“Look how well you take my cock.” I suck hard. His soft words and firm grip on my hair has me squirming against his boot, I’m so close to release I can feel the base of my spine tingling as it builds.
“I’m close,” I pant around his cock. “So fucking close.”
“Not without me.” He growls as he pulls his leg away, and I whimper at the loss of friction.
Digging his fingers tighter into my hair, he takes control of my head, using me, owning me. Fucking my face at a pace I struggle to keep up with.
“I’m going to come,” he says as he looks down at me, eyes burning with lust, “and you’re going to swallow every last drop, like a good fucking boy and then I might let you come too, okay?”
I can’t do anything but nod frantically around his cock. The cusp of my pleasure is so close, I could feel it. One more stroke and I would explode in my jeans like a boy with his first orgasm.
“Fuck!” He roars with such force it was surprising the windowpanes didn’t rattle.
Warm streams of cum hit the back of my throat and my first instinct is to spit it out, but with those jade eyes watching me I could only force myself to swallow. His dick still pulsing, leaking salty cum into my mouth.
After the first swallow, it isn’t too bad, and I focus on enjoying a moment we many never repeat. The fear spurs me on as I desperately lick up and down his length, using my fist to squeeze as much as I can get from his tip.
Looking down at me, his eyes darken as he smirks, admiring my handy work before shuffling his boot back between my legs, leaving his cock flexing in my face.
“Good fucking boy.” Shivering at his words, I whimper at the friction his foot provides. My cock weeping, pulsing against his boot, desperate for release, but he watches me intently. “Now, come on my foot.”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. His permission to come has me scrambling to push against his leg, grinding against the laces of his greasy work boots.
My release quickly builds deep within me and the base of my spine begins to tingle, my whole body on fire under his instruction.
Fuck, had this been what Pepper was feeling before I interrupted them? I would have to send her a gift basket for ruining the best orgasm of her life.
With a single sweep of his hand across my hair, my spiraling thoughts cease, and I tip into oblivion. My eyes squeeze shut as I convulse against his boot. My forehead drops to his thigh, my hot sticky release fills my trousers, and I groan out his name.
His fingers pull harshly on the strands of my hair, yanking my head back so he can watch me crumble. His eyes narrow and his head tilts, that rogue curl falls across his sweat covered brow as he drinks me in. Watching me grind and whimper against his leg, trying to drag out the last of my release.
When the waves of pleasure finally calm, I sit panting on my knees. My hands fall to the floor, and a wave of guilt crashes into me. What the hell have we just done?
We haven’t just crossed a line as stepbrothers; we jumped right the fuck over it.
Neither of us say anything as I get to my feet. I leave his jacket on the floor next to him. I avoid the knowing glare of the glowing snowman, who now looks at me with his fake smile and Christmas cheer, accusingly.
I don’t even have the nerve to look back at him to try to gauge his reaction to this, because if I look back and see regret or God forbid pity, I would have to drag myself up the mountain and find the nearest cliff to throw myself off of.
So instead of facing the consequences of my actions, I choose to be a coward, and walk away from him.
Not even the blizzard coming from the mountains could cool the shame that burns hot through my chest as I start the long sticky walk home.
Chapter fourKris
December 21st
I still sit in the same spot Nick left me last night after dropping to his knees and giving me the head job of my dreams before walking out and leaving me in his dust.
I had spent the night questioning every look and conversation we had ever had, wondering where I had missed the fact that Nick was into guys. Well, maybe not guys, but more specifically, me.
Though I had never been naïve to his wandering eyes, I never thought there had been genuine interest behind them, or could have anticipated the way he melted in my hands as I praised him.
Fuck, the memory of him whimpering as I took my foot away had my cock begging for round two. The feeling of exploding in his mouth and him eagerly licking it all down, even when he struggled to take it, had short-circuited something in me and now all of my thoughts centered on him.
I hadn’t even bothered cleaning up last night after he walked out without so much as a glance back in my direction. I just slumped to the floor, my legs finally giving out after the adrenaline had worn off, and stayed here.
Eventually I crashed out, my head leaning against the cool metal of the sleigh, dreaming of crystal blue eyes and soft little whimpers.
Dragging my knees up and rubbing my hands over my eyes, I push my hair off my face, sighing as I looked up at the ceiling. What the fuck had we done?
The familiar weight of my cigarettes in my top pocket grounded me. The familiar routine calming me, bang, flick, breathe, relax.
I sat with my forearms resting on my bent knees and took in my workshop, smoke invading my lungs, numbing my nerves, and contemplated my next move.
Did I want to do that again with Nick? Fuck yes.
Was I sure that Nick wanted the same? No, but I would not go down without a fight.
If he thought he could walk out of here like nothing happened and I wouldn’t make him see the error of his ways, he had another thing coming.
Stepbrother or not, I didn’t give a fuck.
If I had it my way, Nick would be riding my dick and screaming my name by Christmas Eve.
Now I had him. There was no way I was letting him go.
The garage door swinging open suddenly interrupts my thoughts. Arthur strolls in with two coffees in his hands, the scent of peppermint wafting toward me.
