My knees are knocking together in the back of the limousine.
One second I’m nervous, the next I’m excited.
Underneath both of those emotions is a bedrock of self-disgust.
Two weeks. Not counting our illicit FaceTime call, he didn’t come to see me for two weeks. Yet how eagerly I opened my thighs underneath the dining room table last night, letting him massage my sex until I was wet and clenching. I’m still not sure if I managed to hide my arousal from our parents. Surely they noticed my red cheeks and one-word, breathy replies throughout the rest of the dinner.
The look of dark promise Tristan gave me before Rebecca and I left, so she could drop me back off at the apartment I now call home, is burned on my memory. It burned me all night, in fact, leaving me physically frustrated. Cursing me with puffy eyes and totally unprepared to have my picture taken. Thankfully, the lady from the spa left me a goodie bag that included under-eye patches for swelling that helped some.
Nothing is going to prepare me for Tristan, though.
I should have refused the idea of him supervising this photo shoot. I should have ignored him last night the way he ignored me. If it wasn’t for the regret, the desire, the longing I witnessed in his green eyes when I walked through the door last night, I might have. It would serve him right, making me depend on him and then disappearing.
Truthfully, though…I don’t want to be mad at him.
I want to be in his arms. It’s the only time I’m not nervous about this major transition I’m making from the backwoods of North Carolina to the rich Connecticut spotlight.
I miss him.
I ache for him.
So I couldn’t form the right words to reject his help today. I simply wasn’t capable of missing a chance to be in his reassuring presence. To have his hands on me again.
There’s a chance…I might be in love with Tristan.
Doesn’t two weeks of pining for him, to the point of nearly breaking in half, prove it?
The limousine stops in front of a glamorous hotel and I search the manicured sidewalk for him, my heart swimming up into my throat. Beating, beating faster. My hands twist in the hem of my dress, the one Rebecca picked for the photo shoot. It’s black, form-fitting, elegant but fun. There’s a low, sweetheart neckline and a skirt made from a dozen layers of tulle.
When I looked at myself in the mirror this morning, I likened my appearance to a mischievous ballerina, but Mama knows what kind of image the Garners want to present to society, doesn’t she? I have to trust her.
The driver opens the door for me, offering me his hand.
I can’t help but notice the interest in his eyes, the way they skate down over my breasts, his breath turning short. Worried I’m not wearing the dress correctly, I tug my hand out of his grip and cross my arms, hurrying toward the building. There is a long row of glass doors leading to the lobby and I pull one open, throwing myself inside—
And I run headfirst into a suited, put together Tristan.
“Sweetheart.” He steadies me, concern drawing his brows together. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper, giving in to the urge to lay my cheek against his tie, inhaling his signature cologne, before remembering we’re stepsiblings. In public. Lord, can I do anything right? With a sound of frustration, I pull out of his hold.
Tristan’s jaw clenches, hands flexing at his sides. Like he wants to haul me back. He starts to speak, but whatever he’s going to say freezes on his lips. His gaze voyages over my face, down my neck and breasts, a soft exhalation puffing from his mouth. “Goddamn it, Cate. You are too beautiful for this world.”
Pleasure and awareness and relief wash over me. Instantly.
“I’m wearing the dress the right way?” I ask, hopefully.
My question seems to baffle him. “Yes, of course you are.”
“Oh good. I thought maybe I put it on wrong. The driver…he looked at it funny.”
His right eye twitches. “Did he now?” He turns, guiding me through the humming lobby with his hand on the small of my back. “I’ll just have to address that with him, won’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Shit,” he mutters, dropping his hand away. “Smile, Cate.”
I do as he says just in time for several flashes to go off.
Two reporters with cameras step into our path, calling questions to Tristan, snapping picture after picture of us. Remembering what my etiquette instructor taught me about life in the spotlight, I fold my hands at my waist and attempt to appear serene.
“You know where I’m going to be before I do,” Tristan jokes with the reporters, signaling for me to precede him toward the bank of chrome elevators.
“Who is the mystery woman, Governor?” One of the reporters asks in a suggestive tone, waggling his brows. “Interesting afternoon plans?”
My stepbrother gives them a look of censure. “We’re here for a corporate photo shoot with Andre Bisset. You’re welcome to confirm.”
“Is she the new policy advisor?”
“Look over this way, miss!”
“Excuse us, please,” Tristan practically growls.
The elevator doors open and he shepherds me inside without actually touching me, his breath releasing in a hiss when we’re enclosed inside. “Are you all right, sweetheart? You did very well.”
Pleasure floods me. I can’t help it. “Thank you.”
Tristan pulls out his cell phone, speaking into it almost immediately. “You’re going to be called for comment about my presence at the hotel. The official line is a corporate photo shoot with Andre Bisset. Say no more than that. If they push for details, explain that there will be a press release on Friday evening, given to a select few, and if they want to be privy to the information, they might want to refrain from posting pictures.”
He hangs up, irritation in the hard line of his shoulders.
“I didn’t really understand before. Not completely,” I murmur. “About why you need to stay away from me.”
“The press has wild imaginations. They also have an uncanny sense for knowing when something is real.” His hungry gaze pins me to the wall of the elevator. “The best among them can interpret body language, read lips. Judge intention.” He touches his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “I’ve never needed to fuck anyone as badly as I need to fuck you. Not even close. So I have no experience trying to hide it. But sneaking in and out of your apartment wouldn’t even require them to use any guesswork. They’d know exactly what I was doing.”
There’s a delicious tug between my thighs, brought on by the bold, blunt way he speaks to me. “Sleeping in my bed,” I whisper, swaying toward him involuntarily.
Tristan shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, indicating a mounted camera with his eyes. “We’ll be alone soon, Cate. But not yet.”
I swallow. Nod. “What happens when we’re alone?”
His chest expands along with his pupils. “We’re going to finish what we started on the couch in your apartment. I can’t live another day without getting my cock inside you. I can’t live another day without holding you. Kissing you. Calling you my sweet little girl.” My breasts are fairly swelling over the neckline of my dress, I’m becoming so aroused, emotional, my breath coming fast, fast, fast. “If you can keep our secret, I’ll find ways to get you alone. I’m a bastard for asking. You deserve better than some clandestine affair with your older brother. A governor. Someone who should have control over themselves. But I don’t. I’ve become obsessed with you, Cate. I can’t fucking sleep. Can’t think straight. I need between your thighs.”
Oh my lord.
His intensity shakes me to my toes—and I can’t deny him.
I can’t pass up a chance to have Tristan all to myself. To have him tune the instrument of my body so it plays correctly. This is the man I love. The man who makes me feel safe and wanted. “I can keep a secret,” I vow fervently.
“Good girl.” His eyes are aflame. “Soon.”
Tristan
I can’t tear my eyes off Cate as she walks into the hotel’s penthouse.
She’s a glowing drop of sunshine with a direct line to my heart, making it rap relentlessly against my ribcage. She takes in the view from the top floor, the lavish furnishings, her expression one of awe. In the corner of the massive living space, in front of an antique fireplace, there is a chair arranged. Lighting.
Andre, the photographer, fusses with his camera, but turns at the sound of us approaching, doing a double take when he sees my stepsister.
Teeth grinding, I check the urge to yank her back against me. Maybe lick my tongue up the side of her sweet neck so he gets the picture. Mine.
But I can’t do that. I can never do that. And the lack of privileges with her kills me.
Makes me insane.
“Bonjour,” Andre sings, bowing over Cate’s extended hand. “I did not realize I would have the honor of shooting such a lovely subject this afternoon.”
Really, it’s ridiculous to be jealous of this happily married man in his fifties, but there is nothing rational about how possessive I am over my stepsister. It defies logic. “Perhaps you should begin,” I suggest, an edge to my tone.
“Oui. Very good.” Wisely, the Frenchman steps away from Cate, an amused smile playing around his mouth. “Mademoiselle, if you please. Have a seat and we will begin.”
Cate perches on the plush, royal blue chair. “Thank you.”
Jesus, her feet don’t even reach the floor.
I take a seat a short distance away and watch Andre like a hawk, making sure he uses his hands appropriately when tipping her chin toward the light, adjusting her shoulders, arranging the skirt of her dress. And dear God, she’s beautiful. Her smile is innocent, sparkling, demure. Approachable. Society is going to eat her up with a spoon and it’s exactly what I asked for. It shouldn’t make me so fucking miserable.
It shouldn’t make me so fucking anxious to get her beneath me.
To impress upon her who she belongs to. Who she will belong to, even when she becomes Connecticut’s society darling. An object of lust and admiration, alike.
She’ll be mine. Always. Every day of her life.
It doesn’t take long for Andre to get several amazing shots.
“You are very photogenic, mademoiselle,” he croons, scrolling through the camera. “Flawless. I will have very little editing to do!”
Cate beams, looking to me for approval and I smile back, though it’s more a feral baring of teeth at this point. I’m so close to having her all to myself. On her back. I’ve arranged for the photographer to stay in the hotel and immediately begin editing, so we can have an official publicity shot by day’s end. That means he won’t be leaving the premises, thus tipping off reporters that the photo shoot has ended. That buys us time in this room. Alone.
It occurs to me that this is going to be my life.
Finding loopholes and creating opportunities to fuck my stepsister.
So be it. She’s more than worth every second of plotting and scheming.
I need her.
Andre packs up his equipment and leaves the room. There is a funny expression on the man’s face on the way out, as though he senses the tension between me and Cate, but he doesn’t comment. As I’m paying him a considerable amount of money, I’m secure knowing he won’t make any unwise speculations about my relationship with my stepsister.
The door closes behind him.
“Is it safe now?” Cate asks.
“Yes,” I say thickly, rubbing at the bulge in my pants. “Get the dress off.”
Her cheeks turn pink, but she stands, reaching back to lower the zipper of the dress.
It drops into a heavy heap around her ankles.
“Fuuuck,” I growl, my hips giving an involuntary thrust off the seat.
She’s a masterpiece. Perky, supple, sun-kissed little tits, courtesy of spending countless hours in the sun wearing precious little clothing back in North Carolina. Her all-over tan is a reminder that underneath her new polished exterior, she’s still wild, untamed. And if that wasn’t enough proof, her wet pussy would be. She’s soaked clear through the pink silk of her panties, the material glued to her tiny cleft. Such a horny little thing—and I’m finally going to satisfy her.
But I want to hold this image with me forever.
The day she became mine. Irrevocably.
I want it documented. I want this feeling with me when I can’t have her there.
“We’re going to have our own photo shoot now, sweetheart.”
She shifts in her high heels. Nods.
“Go sit on the bed.”
Watching her walk across the room is pornography in itself. Her tits sway, drawing my eye to her puckered nipples. And as she passes me, her ass cheeks work deliciously, up and down on either side of the pink thong. She sits down on the bed and pulls the clip from her long, blonde hair, shaking it out around her shoulders. “Like this?”
“Yes, baby. Just like that.” I stand and strip off my jacket and shirt, noticing the way her eyes brighten, her breath accelerating when I’m bare chested. In nothing but my pants. “Do you like the way I look, Cate?”
“Yes,” she breathes, reaching up, almost unconsciously, to finger her nipples. “You’re so beautiful. So much bigger than me.”
I unfasten my belt buckle. “I’m your big brother. It’s right there in the name.”
My belt hits the floor and she whimpers, squeezing her thighs together.
“No, we’re going to keep those spread at all times, sweetheart. Do you understand?”
After a moment, she bites her lip, easing her legs back open.
Showing me all that wet, pink silk, almost shyly.
“Remember our FaceTime call, Cate?”
Her nod is vigorous. “Yes.”
“I want to look at pictures of you naked…while I’m touching myself like that.” I lower my zipper, groaning when my cock is given room to stretch inside my briefs. “Pictures of you will make me hard. Make me come.” Before I step out of my pants, I extricate my phone from the pocket and kick them aside. I open the camera app and hold up the device. “Show me where I touched you under the table last night.”
Only a beat passes before her nimble fingers trail up her inner thigh, hesitating, then pressing to the damp spot on the front of her panties. “H-here.”
Groaning, I snap a picture. “That’s right, baby. Right there. You were so sweet and juicy for me, weren’t you?” I walk closer to the bed. “Now stand up and pull your panties down.”
Cate makes a halting sound, her lips parted on shallow breaths. And she stands on unsteady feet, wobbling on her heels briefly before tugging down the pink silk, revealing her freshly waxed pussy. I have to grip my cock to keep from ejaculating at the sight of it, so innocent and fuckable at the same time. Smooth and moist and luscious.
I drop down to my haunches and take a picture of her, knees pressed together shyly, panties round her ankles. And I already know I’m going to beat off endlessly to the image. Reaching out, I gently separate her knees by a couple of inches. “What did I say about keeping your thighs spread?”
“Sorry,” she breathes, her legs beginning to tremble.
Not in fear, though. In heat. She is in heat.
The evidence wets her inner thighs, makes her nipples tight and pointed, her skin flush.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. Ever,” I say gruffly, standing so I can kiss her pouting mouth. Our tongues meet and I almost drop my phone entirely, my body urging me to throw my stepsister down on the bed and ease the rampant lust inside of me. She’s naked. Pliant. Eager. I’m on the precipice of heaven. But I have to go slow, even though our time is limited. Have to make her first time perfect. So I reluctantly break the kiss and guide her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
At which point she becomes fascinated with my erection, her eyes running over it greedily, her fingers curling into the bed clothes. And I’m even more depraved than I thought, because I step closer, putting my trapped shaft an inch from her mouth. “You’re going to spend a lot of time trapped under that dick, Cate. It’s going to be responsible for a lot of screaming and whining.” I cup the back of her head, tugging my stepsister’s open, panting mouth up against my bulge. “Better make nice while you can. Give it a kiss.”
Her plump lips come together, kissing my cock through my briefs. Sweetly.
Her hands rise, as if unbidden, tucking into my waistband and towing it down eagerly. Like she can’t wait to discover the prize inside. I groan up at the ceiling as my cock bobs out, coming to rest against her pretty lips. “Fuck yes,” I hiss. “Suck that cock for me, sweetheart.”
Excitement travels through the delicate lines of her body, those angelic lips wrapping around my shaft and sliding down, down, her guileless blue eyes watchful for my reaction. My approval. And I’ll never know how I find the brainpower to raise my phone and take a picture of her lips wrapped around my cock, but I do…and then I drop it to the floor, shuddering through an exhale, my newly freed hand joining the other at the back of her head, guiding her forward, bobbing her virgin mouth up and down my aching dick.
“God yes, baby. That’s what I need. Right there.”
My encouragement causes her lips to grow more enthusiastic, her hands to circle my arousal and pump, pump, pump in time with my hips. Her hair looks so good threaded through my fingers, getting tangled, her eyelids growing heavy, her mouth gaining another quarter inch every time she takes me into that sublime heat. I could stay locked inside her mouth forever, but my balls are starting to quake and I need that pussy.
Knowing I can’t get her pregnant or it would be yet another cause for scandal, I pull a condom from my pants pocket, but she shakes her head. “When Mama took me to the doctor, they put me on the pill.”
“Oh thank God.” I drop the condom. “I don’t want a damn thing between us.”
I need to be inside of Cate so bad that I’m hauling the girl to her feet and pushing her back down on the bed before I know it, coming down on top of her. Our mouths are a mess of tongues, panting, teeth scraping. She’s wild, like I knew she’d be. Begging and clawing for a fuck, even though she’s never had one. Doesn’t know what it feels like. Only that she’s built to get it from me.
“Easy, baby,” I rasp against her lips. “Calm down. Let me get it in.”
“Please,” she whimpers, arching her back, offering me those sweet berry nipples, and I suck them greedily, cock in hand. Jerking myself off against her cunt. Getting my tip as wet as possible before I wedge it into her hole, barking a curse at the impossible tightness.
“It’s going to hurt a little, okay?” I force myself to remain in control, even though I want to slam deep and buck my hips until I no longer have the heavy burden of seed in my sack. She did this to me. She should have to take it. She should get fucked for it. That’s what the devil on my shoulder is whispering in my ear, but no. No, she’s my innocent fairy from the glen. My stepsister. And she deserves the best care. Her care is my job—a job I need. “Shhh, baby. Unclench that little pussy. Relax and let me fill you up.”
She nods at me, blue eyes riveted on mine.
Biting her lip, she loosens just enough that my cock passes another inch, before slamming up against another barrier. “Daddy needs to get it all the way in,” I say hoarsely, my hips set to thrust at the first sign of encouragement. Not yet. Not yet.
“What…what did you say?” Cate whispers.
What did I say?
Did I call myself her Daddy?
I’ve never said anything like that in my life, never even fantasized about it. Definitely not role-playing. And yet, I feel a pulse beat faster between her legs at that word. Her innocent eyes take on an almost drugged quality, her nails turning to claws in my back, making me grunt.
“S-say it again,” she whimpers, shifting under me.
“I’ll say it when you’ve got me deep, little girl.” I snap at her lips, her earlobe. “Where no man has gone and no man, except me, is ever going to go.”
Her thighs flex around me, then drop open, her breath coming faster.
She’s scared, excited, turned on.
“Yes, Tristan.”
I’m hungry. Determined. Overwhelmed by her beauty, her trust. And I have no choice but to look her in the eye and drive forward, groaning at the gentle rip of her hymen, the hot vise-like flesh surrounding me, rippling, squeezing. “Ahhh Christ,” I growl through clenched teeth. “There’s Daddy’s wet, warm girl.”
Cate sobs, but not from pain.
She was hot to fuck before. She’s hotter now.
Her thighs wrap around my hips like vines, her mouth making an O shape. “Oh. Oh lord.” Goddamn right her accent is thick as molasses now. “Hard. Please, Daddy. Fast.”
Christ.
I knew she’d be uninhibited, but this is almost an embarrassment of riches. I’ve got a hot little virgin underneath me and she wants a pounding. She’s begging for it.
Begging for her Daddy to deliver it.
That’s who I’ve wanted to be to her all along, I realize. The man who takes care of her needs, guides her, protects her. And in an almost too realistic twist, our relationship is also a forbidden secret. There’s something twisted about this, but my need for her outweighs everything. Things like morals and judgments aren’t welcome here.
Any control I had vanishes in the blink of an eye. I drop my weight down on top of Cate’s slight body and I fuck her in a beastly way. That’s what this attraction to my stepsister is. A goddamn beast. It’s powerful and raw and ruled by instinct. She screams at the full impact of my cock, hollers for me to give it harder.
Her teeth rip at my shoulder, her nails scraping down my back.
Her heels urge my ass to pump faster.
She’s a horny, little wildcat.
Jesus. Christ. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive.
“Go ahead. Bite and kick and screech, little girl. I’m having this pussy. I’m having it all to myself. It’s mine!” I reach back and grab her heels, yanking them up to her ears. Pinning them there. Listening to that tight, sopping slap of cock hitting cunt. “Are you Daddy’s dirty little secret, baby? Are you going to open these obedient thighs for me behind everyone’s backs?”
“Yes. Yes!”
“Goddamn. How am I going to keep my cock out of you for five minutes?” I rock into her roughly. Too rough for a virgin, surely, but she’s mewling, moaning, urging me on with lifts of her hips. “It’s so tight. Such a sweet, slutty little girl. All for me. Only for me.”
I’ve never said words, foul words, to anyone in my life.
Cate needs them, though. Wants them.
She claws me hungrily, enticing me to kiss her—and I do, our tongues battling for entry into each other’s mouths. “Call me that again,” she sobs against my lips, eyes dazed, drunk on pleasure. “S-slutty little girl.”
Oh my God. Magnificent creature.
Already she has no boundaries.
Her trust in me is breathtaking, too. She tells me her needs, her wants, with no hesitation, and I want to reward that impulse. Water it and watch it blossom.
She deserves everything and I’m going to provide.
“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” I breathe into her neck. “Spreading your thighs open for your stepbrother. Tempting me out of my mind.” She’s as pure as the driven snow, but it doesn’t matter. Her needs—now our needs—do. I grasp her jaw hard and bite down on the flesh beneath her ear, fucking into her crudely. “Shameful, slutty little girl.”
Her orgasm is an explosion.
A jagged intake of air is my own warning before she bucks beneath me, her cunt bearing down and milking, milking, milking my shaft, forcing a bellow out of my throat. The pressure around my cock is so exquisite, so torturous, I see nothing. Hear nothing but her cries, thrusting blindly at the source of my pleasure. My obsession. Come burns up the stalk of my sex, filling her like a flood and she’s greedy for it, turning her head and sinking her teeth into my forearm, screaming in her throat, her body clenching violently, muscles spasming.
She wrings me out with her tight body, finally going limp, all flushed, dewy skin and dazed eyes. And just like that, she’s back to being the innocent fairy from the glen, peeking up at me to measure my reaction.
“Cate, my Cate,” I pant, teasing her tongue into a kiss. Rolling us slowly so she’s up against my chest, her naked body twined with mine, sweat drying on our skin and the molested sheets around us. “You’re incredible. And you’re mine. Always.” I tip her chin up, getting lost in the blue of her eyes. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathes, resting her cheek on my chest. “Always.”
For the moment, I allow myself to relax.
Because I know I’ll need all of my mental strength for the battle ahead.
Starting tomorrow when everyone else discovers my angel.
When my angel discovers the world beyond…
And all I can ever offer her is secrecy.
Will it be enough?
