50 Shades Of Sinful Pressure

Dirty Holiday With Stepbrother II

The walk back from the beach felt electric. Every step we took along the moonlit sand made the air between Damien and me thicker with unspoken need. His hand stayed possessively on the small of my back, fingers occasionally dipping lower to brush the curve of my a*s through the thin cotton shorts. I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. My body was already betraying me — n*****s tight and aching against my tank top, p***y slick and throbbing with every heartbeat.

We climbed the wooden steps to the villa deck in silence. The only sounds were the distant crash of waves and our own breathing, which had grown heavier. Damien stopped at the top, turning me to face him. The moonlight highlighted the sharp lines of his jaw and the dark hunger in his eyes.

“Ria,” he said, voice low and rough, “tell me you don’t feel this.”

I swallowed hard, my hands resting on his chest. His skin was warm, muscles firm under my palms. “This is wrong, Damien. You’re my stepbrother. If Mom and Dad ever found out…”

“They won’t,” he cut in, stepping closer until our bodies were almost touching. “Not unless you want them to. But right now, it’s just us. No one else. No rules. Just you and me… and how f*****g wet you are for me.”

His words sent a fresh rush of arousal between my legs. I could feel my juices coating my inner thighs, the thin fabric of my shorts doing nothing to hide it. Damien noticed. His hand slid down, cupping me boldly over the shorts. His fingers pressed against my soaked core, rubbing slowly.

“f**k, Ria,” he groaned, eyes darkening. “You’re dripping. All this time pretending to be the good little stepsister, and your p***y is soaked just from walking with me.”

A soft whimper escaped my lips as he rubbed firmer circles, the friction against my c**t making my knees weak. “Damien… we shouldn’t…”

“But you want it,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against my ear. His breath was hot, sending shivers down my spine. “You’ve wanted your stepbrother’s hands on you for years. Admit it.”

I bit my lip, fighting the overwhelming urge to grind against his palm. Guilt twisted in my stomach, but it only made the desire burn hotter — the wrongness amplifying everything. “Yes,” I whispered finally, voice trembling. “I’ve thought about it. More than I should.”

That was all the permission he needed.

Damien pulled me into a fierce kiss, his mouth claiming mine with raw hunger. His tongue pushed past my lips, tasting me, dominating the kiss. I moaned into his mouth, hands fisting in his t-shirt as I kissed him back just as desperately. He tasted like beer and salt from the sea air, masculine and addictive.

Without breaking the kiss, he backed me up against the wooden railing of the deck. The ocean breeze cooled my heated skin, but it did nothing to quench the fire inside. His hands roamed greedily — one sliding under my tank top to cup my bare breast, thumb flicking my hard n****e, the other pushing inside my shorts to find my slick folds.

“Jesus, no panties either,” he growled against my lips. “Such a dirty girl. Walking around with your stepbrother, cunt dripping and bare.”

Two thick fingers slid through my wetness, coating themselves before circling my swollen c**t. I gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. The pleasure was sharp and immediate. He rubbed firm, steady circles while his mouth moved to my neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin hard enough to leave marks.

“Damien… oh f**k…” I moaned, head falling back. My hands clutched his shoulders for support as my legs trembled.

He pushed one finger inside me, then two, stretching my tight walls. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into my soaked p***y filled the night air. He curled them perfectly, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside while his thumb continued working my c**t.

“Look at you,” he whispered hotly against my neck. “Getting finger-f****d by your stepbrother on the deck where anyone could see if they walked by. Does that turn you on? Knowing how f*****g wrong this is?”

“Yes,” I admitted breathlessly, rocking my hips to meet his thrusting fingers. “It’s so wrong… but it feels so good.”

He added a third finger, stretching me wider, f*****g me faster. His palm slapped lightly against my c**t with every thrust. Pleasure coiled tight and vicious in my belly. My n*****s ached, my whole body trembling on the edge.

Damien pulled back slightly to watch my face, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. “Come for me, Ria. Come on your stepbrother’s fingers like the naughty little s**t you are.”

The dirty words pushed me over. My o****m crashed through me hard and sudden. My p***y clenched violently around his fingers, juices gushing as waves of intense pleasure ripped through every nerve. I cried out, the sound carried away by the ocean breeze, thighs shaking as I rode his hand through the spasms.

He didn’t stop. He kept pumping slowly, drawing out every last pulse until I was a panting, trembling mess against the railing.

When the aftershocks finally faded, Damien withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, l*****g them clean with a low groan. “You taste even better than I imagined. Sweet and f*****g addictive.”

I watched him, chest heaving, still reeling from the intensity. Guilt tried to creep in again, but the sight of my stepbrother tasting my c*m only made me wetter.

Damien pulled me toward the outdoor lounge chairs, pushing me gently onto one. He knelt between my spread legs, hands sliding my shorts down and off completely. My tank top was pushed up above my breasts, leaving me almost n***d under the stars.

“Spread wider for me,” he ordered.

I obeyed, legs falling open shamelessly. The cool night air kissed my dripping p***y as Damien leaned in. His hot breath teased my sensitive folds first, then his tongue — broad and flat — licked a long, slow stripe from my entrance to my c**t.

I moaned loudly, hands tangling in his hair. He devoured me like a starving man, tongue flicking and circling my c**t before plunging inside me, tasting every drop of my release. He sucked my swollen nub hard, then gentler, alternating until I was writhing beneath him.

“Damien… f**k, your mouth…” I gasped, hips grinding against his face.

He hummed in approval, the vibration sending sparks through me. Two fingers joined his tongue again, pumping deep while he focused on my c**t. The pleasure built even faster this time, my body still sensitive from the first o****m.

I came again within minutes, crying out his name as my thighs clamped around his head, flooding his mouth with fresh juices. He licked me through it, greedy and unrelenting, until I was pushing at his shoulders from overstimulation.

Only then did he pull back, lips and chin glistening with my arousal. He stood, freeing his c**k from his board shorts. It sprang out thick, long, and rock-hard, the head already leaking pre-c*m. It was bigger than I’d imagined — veined and heavy, curving slightly upward.

My mouth watered at the sight.

“Not tonight,” he said huskily, stroking himself slowly as he watched me. “I want to savor this. Want to feel how tight you are when I finally bury every inch inside my stepsister’s f*******n little cunt.”

He leaned down, kissing me deeply so I could taste myself on his tongue. His c**k rested hot and heavy against my thigh, so close to where I needed it.

“But tomorrow,” he promised, voice dark with l**t, “when Mom and Dad are still gone… I’m going to f**k you properly, Ria. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”

I shivered at the words, my p***y clenching emptily.

The night was far from over, but the line had been crossed.

And I already knew I didn’t want to go back.