Richard - Page 107

My heart skipped a beat as he leaned in close, his lips so close to mine as he whispered sweetly to me.

“So long as I have you then nothing else matters, Gwendolyn. You’re the one that I’ve always dreamed of having ever since we were younger. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. You come first, in all things. Gwendolyn… I love you.”

“Tristan,” I gasped, his arms sliding around me tightly as he pulled me in close for a deep, passionate kiss. I saw fireworks flash across my vision as my body melted against his own, my body tingling as I began to feel the warm rush of my juices begin to flow between my thighs.

Every logical part of my mind knew that this was wrong, that we were doing something that we could never undo, but my heart cared nothing for the reasoning of my brain. I knew what I craved just as much as Tristan did, and his admission of his love for me only spurred me to throw caution to the wind and give in to the thing that I desired most.

Our lips met in a passionate dance against one another, his mouth so hot against mine I swore I would ignite like kindling. I could already feel the stirrings of his member pressing against my body, encouraging my own lustful body to shudder in excitement. I’d craved him like a drug from the first moment he was inside of me, his dick sliding between the slick lips of my pussy. I missed the cool touch of the metal piercing against my sensitive little spot as he slammed himself into me over and over again. I needed him more than I had ever needed anything else in my entire life.

“I love you,” he whispered breathily against my lips, his fingers sliding into my hair, grabbing a bunch of it and gently tilting my head back so that he could better lay his soft kisses on the skin of my neck.

“I love you too, Tristan,” I gasped, my body arching into his as I felt his teeth graze over the soft flesh of my neck. I felt like I was about to explode, my entire body practically vibrating with the anticipation of feeling my stepbrother buried deep inside of me, prompting me closer and closer to an earth-shattering climax like I’d felt the first night we were together.

Without warning, Tristan swept me up in his arms, carrying me from my living room and out into the hallway before depositing me roughly on top of my bed, sprawled out helter-skelter as I watched him begin to undress himself. I bit my lip in anticipation, my heart fluttering as I watched him free his cock from the confines of his slacks. I was soaked already, but by the time he pulled that monster out, I was utterly drenched.

“God, I still can’t believe how big you are,” I marveled, my face flushed with color.

Once he was undressed, my stepbrother crawled across the bed toward me, savagely pulling at my clothes until I was finally free of them before he began to kiss along the soft, gentle curves of my most sacred of places. I let out a gasp, my eyes closed as he buried his tongue into the velvet folds of my womanhood, my back arching. But just as I was about to come against the expert ministrations of his tongue, I felt something slide inside of me, and before I could process it, the enormity of his cock was invading me, filling me up from the inside out.

This time, it was different. This time, it wasn’t raw, hot, and heavy. We smoldered against one another, a low, slow burn that consumed us from head to toe. We moved as one, not fucking, but making love. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I’d never gotten close enough to anyone for it to happen like this.

But with Tristan, it felt good. It felt right. Tears brimmed in my eyes as I realized this was exactly where we were both supposed to be: healing ourselves, the wounds that had been inflicted upon us by our parents, and seeking solace in the only other person in all the world who could truly understand the damage we’d sustained.

I wreathed my arms around his neck, holding onto him for dear life as our walls finally came crumbling down. Tristan covered me in kisses, some so hard they left me reeling, others so gentle and light I could only beg for more. And when he came inside me this time, it was like a flood—like he’d been holding back before, but now he could give me all of himself, freely and without regret or hesitation.

I gave myself to him, too, coming around his cock in a steady rhythm, finally obtaining that sweet release no other man had ever given me. This was more than an orgasm. This was coming home. Finally finding the place that I belonged.

In Tristan’s arms.

Chapter 16

I awoke to the sounds of my phone ringing from the inside of my slacks as they lay strewn across the floor by my stepsister’s bed. My eyes fluttered open, and I could hardly help but smile as I felt the silken skin of my lover beside me, stretched out across her bed with the blankets just barely covering up those gorgeous breasts.

I leaned down and dug my phone from the pocket of my pants, frowning as I noticed my father’s number writ big across my screen.

“What do you want?” I asked, hiding none of the scorn in my voice.

“Do you have any idea what it is you’ve done, you utter fool?” he screamed, so loud that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “My reputation is ruined!”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” I asked, utterly perplexed.

“Turn on the damn news, you repugnant idiot!” he snarled.

I didn’t like the sound of this, drowning as I reached over to the bedside table to turn on the flat screen that hung opposite from Gwen’s bed. The screen immediately showed an image of Gwendolyn and I emblazoned across it, our arms wrapped around each other as we kissed passionately. From what I could tell, the picture had been taken from the street looking in on Gwen’s apartment.

I was furious. I couldn’t believe some damn scumbag of a reporter had stooped to getting pictures of me through my sister’s windows. If there was one thing that I utterly hated about being a member of the upper class it was the disgusting amount of attention everyone paid to the comings and goings of your life.

“You realize that my name has been sullied, don’t you?” my father growled menacingly over the phone. “You’ve made me a laughing stock with your disgusting lust for your own sister!”

“We’re not even related!” I shot back, my face reddening as Gwen began to stir beside me. I could only imagine what she must be thinking as she realized what was on the television.

“It doesn’t matter you fool! They know her mother is my wife, and that is scandal enough!” He screeched.

“Scandals fade out,” I said. “And what in the hell do I care? I’ve been in the middle of more than a few. This will blow over like the others, and once it has, Gwen and I will continue on as we like.”

“You truly think the press will leave you alone just because you stop being interesting? Or that you’d ever see yourself appointed duke after what you’ve done? You’ve ruined any chance you ever had of taking my place in Parliament. You stupid child, you’ve ruined everything you touch, like you always have.”

“I don’t need your damn title,” I snarled back at him. “I don’t need anything from you, least of all your place in that outdated shithole.”

My father let out that cruel, heartless laugh of his that I hated more than anything else.

“You think I’ll stop with just the title?” he asked, unable to contain his cold mirth. “I’m going to ruin you, boy. Everything you’ve enjoyed of your privilege as my son will be taken from you by the end of business today. The trust fund, the respect. All of it.”

“You can’t do that,” I said. “It’s not yours to take from me I—”

“Oh, on the contrary,” he interrupt

ed. “Your trust fund specifically stipulates that it go to my son. And, by the end of business today, I’ll have had the paper work to disown you filed with the courts. You’ll have no claim to a single pound of that fund… a fund that my new baby boy will gladly inherit when he comes of age.”

“You disgusting old bastard,” I hissed. “You piece of shit.”

My father laughed again, this time more uproariously than I’d ever heard it. It was the sound of his victory. Without the trust fund I was destitute and homeless. He’d won.

“Goodbye Tristan, and good riddance.”

He hung the phone up with a click and I threw mine across the room with a clattering crash. My heart was hammering from my anger, the back of my neck hot with it as I stared at the muted news caster saying something about the entire affair. I didn’t have to turn the sound on to know she was making some kind of horrible joke.

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