His shoulder digs into my rib cage as he runs, and I’m acutely aware of my dress riding up my legs, threatening to flash anyone that we pass. But most everyone is still back at the party because the campus is dead quiet. The only sounds are from Chase’s feet pounding along the cobblestone.
He puts me down on the stairs, out of breath and his cheeks flush. “Shit. I have a stitch in my side,” he says, bending over trying to inhale.
“You good?”
He waves me off and ambles up the stairs, my hand in his. I don’t make a move to remove it. He probably grabbed it just to keep himself steady, I reason.
Once we’re inside, I kick off my heels grateful to finally be free of them. They were starting to leave blisters. Chase stalks off to the bathroom, but he doesn’t close the door as he strips. It’s almost like he wants me to see. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, watching him as he slides his shirt over his head, revealing that delicious six pack. Then he wiggles out of the shorts, down his toned thighs. He must work out to have such a sculpted physique, but I’ve only ever seen him in class or in our room.
My core heats as I watch him. I have to clench my thighs together.
He comes back into our room wearing nothing but his briefs. I haven’t moved away from the door, too afraid to move.
“You going to stay awhile, or are you planning on running out on me?” He asks walking closer.
“Chase,” I say his name like a plea.
He presses me back until I’m flush with the door, his body heat is palpable through my dress.
He drags his nose up my neck, like he’s memorizing my scent. His hands are splayed on my hips, testing my reaction and God do I want to give in.
“Melody, please put me out of my misery and let me call you mine.” He says, barely audible but I hear every word.
My chest seizes. “We can’t. You’re my stepbrother.” I say weakly. Reminding myself and him why we can never be.
“I don’t care. I can’t stop wanting you. Wanting this.” His hand dips between my legs and finds my clit.
I arch my back, letting him touch me. I’m so wet and needy, I feel like I could come from just his touch. He pushes my panties aside and finds my slit wet and ready for him. He groans and grazes my lips with his.
“But you hate me.” I say, grinding my pelvis down on his hand. He swirls his thumb against my clit. His tongue lightly teases my bottom lip.
“No, baby. I hate that I want you as much as I do. I hate that I feel like I can’t have you. I hate that I wonder if you could ever want someone like me.”
“What will people say about us being step siblings?” I ask, rocking against him, needing to feel more. Just hearing how people acted when we left the party reminds me of why this is a horrible idea.
“We’re not blood. We didn’t even meet until this year. Tell me you don’t want this. You can’t lie to me. I can feel how fucking wet I make you. Screw what everyone else thinks. It’s just me and you that matter.”
I can’t deny it. He can see right through me. My reasons why this shouldn’t happen crumble, and I give in, unable to fight the attraction between us. I need it. I need him.
“I do. I want you.” I murmur.
His lips take mine in a demanding all-encompassing kiss. He pours every bit of passion and longing into it. His mouth opens and our tongues tangle sending bolts of electricity along my entire body. I can’t get enough. I need him closer.
His fingers press into my pussy, and he curls them inside of me. Heat like I’ve never known erupts in my core as he brings me to the edge. I can feel his hard length pressing against my thigh as we kiss. As I’m about to come, he removes his fingers and I let out a disappointed noise.
He chuckles at my reaction. “Open your mouth for me. I want you to taste yourself.”
My mouth pops open, more from surprise than obedience. He presses his fingers into my mouth and a salty sweet taste explodes on my tongue. As he pulls his fingers from my mouth, he leans down and takes my mouth in his, coating his tongue in my taste.
It’s the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen. I’ve never tasted myself before.
“Take this off.” He says, tugging at my zipper.
I help him, stepping out of my dress and let it fall on the floor.
“Fuck. You’re stunning.” He says, running his hand down my side while his eyes roam the expanse of my body. I can feel everywhere he looks as if he’s touching me.
“Turn around,” he demands, moving my hair out of the way from my bra clasp. He undoes it easily, and it drops joining my dress on the floor. “Let me see you.”
