Her Wicked Stepbrother: A Nolan Bastards Novella Read online

  The words tickled a spot low in her belly. He kissed her with slow, drugging kisses that incited a storm of restless arousal inside her. He trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, and then dropped his hands to her waist.

  While his mouth continued its delicious exploration of hers, he toyed lightly with the hem of her sweatshirt. When his fingers brushed the bare skin on her stomach, her breath snagged in her throat. Then he tugged the thick sweatshirt over her head, and she stood before him in her skimpy bra.

  His hungry gaze devoured her.

  A prickling blush spread over her body, and she shivered.

  Dark eyes gripped hers, and he held out his hand. Without a beat of hesitation, she slipped her fingers inside his.

  At the edge of the bed, he shucked his T-shirt, then helped her lie down on the mattress. He stretched out beside her, and she burrowed close, seeking the warmth from his skin.

  His hot mouth tasted the skin on her collarbone and the side of her neck. When his lips hovered above hers, the wild beating of her heart quickened her breath. With shallow, desperate gulps, she gasped at what little wisp of air existed in the miniscule space between them.

  “How are ye doing?” He sounded breathless. “You doing all right?”

  She couldn’t speak, so she moved her head in a curt nod.

  He traced the side of her cheek with his fingers. “Are ye sure? Ye seem worried.”

  “I guess… I’m a little nervous.”

  His golden eyes shimmered with a warmth so soft and tender she wanted to melt. “About the pain?”

  “No, not that.” Her cheeks warmed. “I… don’t want to disappoint you.”

  The shadow of a smile touched his lips. “That’s not possible.”

  “I’m not like the other girls you’ve been with.”

  A hint of sorrow touched his features. “That’s why I’m so certain there’s nothing you could do that won’t please me.”

  One callused palm smoothed up her side.

  “My boobs aren’t big.” The confession burst from her as his hand reached the top of her rib cage. “N-not like Sam’s, or—or the others.”

  He peered into her eyes. “There are no others. There never will be another. There’s only you.” His lips brushed hers. “Always you.”

  With all of her heart, she wished it were true. She had no idea what the future might hold for them, but most of all, she wished for that.

  When he reached for her, his hands trembled.

  Her heart wrestled in her throat as he freed first one breast, then the other, from their confining cups. His gaze clamped on her bared flesh as he cupped her in one of his large hands.

  Her small breast filled his palm. At the sight and feel of his warm, rough skin on her naked flesh, her lungs constricted. His thumb swept across one pebbled nipple, and a yelp climbed in her throat.

  He massaged her with slow, full circles that shot ripples of pleasure to her toes. Swallowing thickly, she closed her eyes.

  His hands slid down her body, past her rib cage to the dip of her waist, where the tips of his fingers danced along the waistband of her blue jeans. Slowly, he dragged down the zipper.

  The hard thumps of her heartbeat pounded in her ears when his fingers disappeared beneath the fabric of her blue jeans and brushed the crotch of her panties. The yelp escaped her then.

  He rubbed over the heart of her, and soon gentle, rolling swirls of delight cascaded from her core and rippled outward. Her stomach muscles clenched, and she moved her hips, chasing the electric shock he delivered to her starved body.

  When a greedy moan slipped between her lips, he tugged her blue jeans and panties over her hips and down. She was exposed to him fully when he climbed onto his knees and positioned himself between her legs.

  His dark gaze clamped on her face, he reached down, between her legs.

  The feathery touch exploded her senses. Desire rushed through her, awakening places inside she never knew existed. With light, teasing strokes, he caressed her everywhere except the spot where she ached the most. She wanted it so badly that she parted her legs, just a little, in hopes that he might want to touch her there, too.

  He did.

  When the tip of his finger danced along her slit, her head came up off the pillow. The sharp hiss of air she sucked between her teeth morphed into a throaty groan. Her head fell back while his finger probed the entrance of her body with an irresistible gentleness.

  He rubbed the sweetly aching flesh in a soft, clever rhythm until she was on fire, her body burning with arousal and the heat of her embarrassment. Helpless to the pleasure, her knees dropped wide.

  One finger pushed a fraction inside her, and another moan built in the back of her throat at the delicious promise. He nudged deeper, but then his touch retreated. She whimpered, only to receive the full length of his finger.

  A cry tore from her, and she craned her neck to smother the sound in her pillow.

  She grew slick, but she was too eager to reach the place he drove her body to be embarrassed. Her breaths came short and ragged while she pleaded with him.

  “Yes, a chroí. Anything ye want.”

  Sensation spiraled through her, and she gripped fistfuls of the bedsheets at her sides. Her muscles clenched.

  She’d experienced pleasure before, but only by her own hand, and not often since Aiden and his family had moved in. But this, what he was doing to her, was unlike anything she’d felt before.

  He lowered his body to the mattress and shifted so his face hovered just above the dark triangle of her curls.

  Mortification flooded her, and she reached down to cover herself.

  “No, a rún.” His hot breath feathered over her feverish skin. “Don’t hide yourself from me. Please, let me see you.”

  Hesitantly, she withdrew her shaking hand.

  She felt his smile against the tender skin on the inside of her thigh when he quested into her softness with the long glide of his finger once more. He tickled an excruciatingly sensitive spot, and she quivered.

  When he pushed a second finger inside her, stretching her body, she experienced a flash of pain that quickly melted into pleasure when his tongue soothed her burning flesh.

  Over the quivering swell of her stomach, he peered at her, a gold light in his dark eyes and a slight flush on the crest of his cheeks. A stab of self-consciousness pierced her.

  Then, as she watched, he lowered his head and his tongue lashed her throbbing flesh.

  Coherent thoughts shattered.

  He licked and tasted her, and with every tease of his tongue, swirls of sensation wove through her. She threaded her hands through his thick, soft hair while waves of sensation rushed over her, faster and faster. She worked her hips against the warm strokes of his tongue.

  Moans spilled out of her, along with her heart.

  He murmured soft demands against her hot flesh, commanding her to open for him and to let it come to her.

  Unable to control her shameless reaction to his touches, she pressed her heels into the mattress and arched up into him. Pleasure swelled, then crested.

  The shards of sensation splintered through her, breaking apart her soul. Head thrown back, she gripped his shoulders and hung on while the agonizing bliss crashed over her.

  She collapsed on the bed, panting.

  His fingers still inside her, Aiden kissed and nibbled his way up her body. His hot mouth grazed the sensitive skin near her navel, then the underside of one breast. She had no idea when he’d removed his pants, but his rigid sex brushed against her thigh. His tongue lapped at her beaded nipple before he blew a wisp air over it. All the while, his fingers lightly teased.

  “I want to be inside you,” he said against the side of her neck. “I want to please you again. I promise I’ll be gentle.” His whispers became ragged.

  This was it. He was going to make love to her.

  A slice of worry slashed at her.

  She heard the soft rip of the condom packet, then watched h
im roll it down his long, hard length.

  She swallowed audibly.

  Suddenly, she found herself pinned beneath his warm, golden brown gaze. “Are ye sure about this? If ye want to stop, I’ll understand.”

  Her fear dissolved like sugar in a rainstorm.

  She didn’t understand much about what was happening between them, but she knew that, as long as she lived, she’d never feel afraid when she gazed into his eyes.

  “No, Aiden, I don’t want to stop. I want to feel you inside me.”

  His expression crumbled, as though she’d caused him anguish, and he caught her mouth with his.

  His lips held hers for a long moment. “Tank you,” he murmured against her mouth.

  He settled between her thighs, and the head of his sex pressed against her. Reaching between their bodies, he gripped his thick shaft and guided himself to her opening. As he pushed inside, a pained groan escaped him, and his dark lashes fluttered down to lie against his cheeks.

  Her slickness eased his passage, and she gasped against the pleasure-pain. Immediately he stilled, his lips parted with his sharp pants.

  Beneath him, she wriggled, the impulse to escape his invasion overwhelming. But her movement only drew him deeper.

  Fully inside her, a shudder passed through him. “My God, Brynn. You feel so good.”

  It was the first time she’d ever heard him say her name, and her heart stirred at the sound. The r rolled on his tongue like a purr that licked the growing fire where he’d invaded her.

  Stretched and filled, tears prickled behind her eyes.

  He dropped a kiss on her temple. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Shaking her head, she gripped his wide shoulders, digging her fingers into the solid muscles. “It’s not that. I like it, Aiden. I like you.”

  His golden brown eyes were heavy-lidded when he peered down into her face and, with small increments, began to move his hips.

  Soreness dissolved into a fresh wave of need and want. The muscles of his back rippled beneath her fingers as he made a series of short, rhythmic thrusts. Then a groan vibrated in his chest and his rigid length jerked inside her.

  Afterward, he remained buried deep, though she felt him soften inside her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unwilling to let him go so soon after waiting so long to touch him.

  He laid his forehead on her shoulder. While his breathing slowed, he lightly stroked the hollow beneath her ear with the tips of his fingers.

  It was the most beautiful moment of her life up to that point. Being with Aiden had been nothing like she expected, and so much more than she ever could’ve dreamed. Sweet, if a little awkward. Sexy, though a bit embarrassing, too.

  Nonetheless, he’d made her feel special. Cherished and loved.

  Everything about it, about him—about them—had been perfect.

  Except for the fact that they could never be together.

  Chapter 12

  That night, she didn’t dream. No fantasy could compete with the reality of Aiden lying naked at her side.

  In his sleep, the tightness around his mouth softened and the resentment around his eyes faded to a gentle innocence. Her heart light, the sound of his even breathing lulled her into a dreamless slumber.

  Heavy darkness cloaked the room when, sometime later, the mattress jiggled. She cracked open her eyes as he climbed from her bed. When he passed by the window, his body momentarily blocked the faint haze of daylight silhouetting the drawn curtains.

  She felt his warm presence beside her a moment before he leaned over her and his soft lips brushed her forehead.

  The next day, their parents returned home with the baby.

  After a hectic day, that night, Brynn retreated to her bedroom and Aiden to his. She lay in bed in the dark, listening to the soft bumps and thuds coming from throughout the house.

  When finally all was quiet, his form appeared in the bathroom doorway, which she’d left open in the hopes that he might visit her.

  He hovered beneath the archway, and she pushed upright in the bed. Leaning over, she flipped on the lamp and soft light flooded the room.

  His expression inscrutable, he remained where he stood on the other side of the room.

  Uncertain, she waited.

  “I should not be here.” The edge of his restraint rode just under his voice.

  “I’m glad you are.”

  Easing back the quilt, she climbed from the bed. As she crossed to him, he gripped the doorframe with one hand and tracked her movements with dark eyes, as though he feared what she might do.

  Standing before him, she searched for the source of his hesitation and found it in his serious eyes, where desire warred with shame.

  The war broke her heart. She’d never accept that what they’d done was wrong, and she hated that he believed it. Wishing to convince him—and maybe herself, too—she rose on her tiptoes and brushed her mouth over his.

  He closed his eyes, but his grip remained latched on the wooden doorjamb.

  She slipped her hands beneath the edge of his T-shirt and over the flat plane of his stomach. The tips of her fingers followed the trail of soft hair that ran down the center of his abdomen and disappeared into the waistband of his sleep pants. When she toyed with the drawstring, his eyes flew open.

  She slipped the knot and pulled down the elastic waistband. With clumsy hands, she gripped his hard length. Fascinated, she watched her small hand slide down and back up his rigid shaft, his flesh hot and silken against her skin.

  After only a few pumps, he was backing her toward the bed and tugging at the hem of her nightshirt as they walked. Yanking the garment over her head, he cast it aside and tumbled with her into the sheets.

  His large, warm hands roamed over her sensitive skin, raising a trail of gooseflesh everywhere he touched and rousing a fount of need in her. She parted her thighs, and he nestled between them.

  When his hot mouth clamped over one of her nipples, she yelped.

  A sound of warning vibrated against her throat. “We must be quiet. They’ll hear us.”

  But another groan slipped from her when his fingers nudged through her springy curls to her hungry core.

  Gently, he turned her over on her stomach. From behind, his hand slipped between her thighs, and in one silky glide, his fingers entered her. While he stroked and teased, the callused palm of his other hand smoothed down her back and over the globe of her bottom. Moans built in her throat, and she swiveled her hips, chasing the ripples of sensation his clever touch stirred.

  Soon, she heard the rip of the condom packet, then he ran his hand up her back and eased inside her.

  Her body opened to him, eager and wanting all he could give her. All of him. Buried deep, he paused a moment before he started to pump his hips. Pleasure built and with every silken slide, her moans grew louder and lustier.

  She buried her face in the pillow to conceal the evidence of her climbing arousal. The need to keep quiet somehow intensified the aching desire building inside her, and she lifted her hips to take more of him.

  A harsh groan ripped from him and he withdrew from her body. Turning her over, he settled between her thighs and burrowed deep inside her honeyed core once more.

  His thrusts grew urgent, needy, and her heart filled with the love he gave. She clawed at his back, wanting to pull him deeper into her body and her heart.

  The orgasm crashed over her. He swallowed her cries of pleasure while the luscious waves pitched and plunged her beneath an ocean of erotic pleasure.

  With a series of short, hard thrusts, he followed her under.

  Every night that week, and the next, he came to her bed. After the house fell quiet and they could be certain everyone slept, he slipped into her bedroom through the adjoining bathroom. They talked some, but mostly he made sweet, carnal love to her, with lots of hushed pleas to be quiet and urgent kisses to silence the lustiest of her moans.

  One night, he turned to her, his eyes bright with
emotion. “I hate this.”

  Her heart kicked in her chest. “What do you mean?”

  “I hate creeping around.” Disgust tainted his tone. “That’s the kind of shite me dad used to do.”

  Tears squeezed the back of her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say.

  “You deserve better.”

  She bit back the words begging him not to end things between them. “If you want to stop….”

  He rolled on top of her and kissed with desperate urgency, so much so that she’d thought he meant it to be their last kiss.

  But the next night, he returned to her bed.

  Paranoia stalked her as she feared she’d be unable to hide her growing feelings for Aiden from their family. At the dinner table, the temptation was often too much to overcome and she’d sneak a stolen glance at him or forget entirely for a moment that what they were doing was wrong and get lost in her study of his beautiful face.

  Then reality would crash into her and she’d shoot a panicked look at her dad, terrified he’d noticed her adoring, lust-filled ogling of her stepbrother.

  In truth, no one suspected them. In front of the family and at school, he continued to show her only extreme indifference, and though he halted his wild flirtations with the other girls, on occasion she caught him talking to Samantha Whitaker between classes, only to keep up appearances. Still, he refused even to sneak a stolen glance at her, so closely he guarded their secret.

  She didn’t mind. Beneath her bedsheets lay their truth.

  There, he withheld nothing from her. He didn’t banish the tenderness from his eyes or the gentleness from his touch. His smile came quick and easy, and more often than not, she found herself transfixed, both in shock and wonderment of him.

  The real Aiden.

  He was kind and gentle, lusty and playful, and he gave the best kisses. Not that she had much to compare them to, but somehow she knew no boy would ever kiss her the way Aiden did.