Stepbrother's Darling

Lockeroom secrets

Vaughn’s POV

“Right on time, darling,” I say, making her pause in her tracks. Somehow, she appears more scared than she was a second ago when she had no clue whose shadow was behind her. “I knew you wouldn’t last without me.” I tease.

She turns, eyes burning as she stares up at me. “Excuse you?” She scoffs. “What are you even doing here, Vaughn?”

“You’re in my territory, Mirabelle. I should be asking you that.”

She rolls her eyes, “Your coach said no one would be here, I was bringing the waters because he begged me to.”

I nod, I’ll have a chat with Winstone. He can’t send girls into the locker room, especially not mine. “What?” She frowns, staring at me with confusion written all over her face. “Shouldn’t you be on the field?”

“I needed to blow off some steam before the second half,” I counter, my gaze lingering on her mouth. “This is the only place on campus where you shouldn’t be, not alone. And yet here you are, you missed me didn’t you? Is that why you just delivered yourself to me?”

“No,” she swallows, taking a step back. “I brought water. I’m leaving. I haven’t even seen you, no one is here.”

I step forward, “But I’m here, darling.” I smirk, resting my hand on the cold steel of the locker right beside her head. It startles her. “You snuck into the official BT Football Locker Room, Mirabelle. You’re not staff so this.... a serious violation.”

Her eyes widen, that familiar spark of defiance which makes me want to break twinkles through. “Why are you this way?”

I shrug, trying to touch her cheek but she slaps my hand away. God, I missed this—her fight. I’ve been bored, inclined to stalk her but I talked myself out of it.

It’s not right. It’s wrong. I consider Amelia a mother to me, I can’t f**k her daughter again. But now that I have my darling little stepsister in front of me, I don’t remember any of the promises I tried to make to myself because it was morally correct. “What happens if I tell coach that I found you here, alone, lurking, they will assume you snuck in here to seduce the players—namely, the star quarterback.” I try not to smile, “Management would get involved, and you could face expulsion.”

Mirabelle shakes her head, eyes wide and lips parted, defiance twinkling in her gaze. It makes my c**k twitch. “No, you wouldn’t.” She says, her voice low, cracking.

She knows I’m bluffing, but she also seems to know me well enough to acknowledge that I’m ruthless enough to follow through on my bluff. “Try me,” I counter, just to lock that fear in. I love the awe in her eyes when she looks at me, like she’s trying to decipher me. She never can, no one could. “Kidding, little sister. You know I’m a fair man, so I wouldn’t ruin your fragile dreams of being a Bradley-Thorne student.”

She closes her eyes and inhales. When her eyes open again, she stares at me, “What do you want?” She asks, arms crossed over her chest.

My gaze drops to her tit’s. I didn’t see much of them that night but I plan on doing more than just seeing them. I want to taste every part of her until I’m addicted.

Mirabelle knows, her breath audibly hitches and her cheeks flush, she knows what I want. I came in here to blow off some steam, my team is losing, we might be tied for points with AU but that’s losing to me.

“What do you want?” she asks again. “Get on with it, make your depraved request. ”

A smile tugs at my lips, victory tastes like her mouth and I need that taste now. “You know me so well,” I say, leaning into her. Her eyes drop but I lift her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I want you, darling. I want you to spread your legs for me and let me inside your tight little cunt. Consider it charity to my team, I’ll perform better after I’ve been inside you. And if we win? I will reward you, would you like that?”

“I’d like you to f**k off but that doesn’t seem to be in your vocabulary or intellectual understanding.”

I smile, “Hmm. See, you know me so well already. Take off your panties, Mirabelle.”

Her eyes flutter, I expect defiance, a taunt but she gives me nothing. She holds my gaze and pulls her panties down. I don’t look away, not until she slaps the soft fabric on my chest.

They’re wet, Mirabelle likes to play coy. She likes to pretend she doesn’t feel this heat between us, or the suffocating pull that could end us both if we fight against it but it’s sure to drown us both if we give in. I quickly undo my towel and spin her, her body pressed to the lockers. “Vaughn, someone could walk in.”

“Hmm, and you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

My hands slide between her thighs, teasing her slit, soaking my fingers in her arousal and then rubbing it on her c**t. “No,” she whimpers, her legs parting further.

I have to get back on the field soon, and Mirabelle is dripping onto my fingers. Her back arches without me having to tell her to. I brace one hand on my wide receiver's locker and fist my c**k with the other. Precum beads at the top from the mere thought of being inside her. I thrust my c**k inside her and she whimpers, arching again. “Mmm,” she whispers, her head falling against my hand.

I let her adjust to my c**k and once she’s comfortable, her hips start moving. Where she lacks experience, her body teaches her and my job is to teach her how to feel, to feed her fantasy. She thrives on the thought of getting caught.

Fuck, I can’t wait to teach her how to ride my c**k.

I pull my c**k out and fill her once again, thrusting hard and fast. “Slow—” she chokes out, bracing herself, her back straightens but u bend her over once again. There’s no time to be slow, I continue to move my hips fast, Mirabelle thrusts her ass back, trying to meet my every thrust. Her p***y squeezes my d**k every time, making us both moan.

Her legs start to give out and I know she's closer, I hold her steady, thrusting harder to move past the clenching warm walls of her cunt. “That’s it, darling.” I groan, “Come on this d**k and make me come inside you.”

“Please,” she whimpers, her breath hitched. “Vau—nighmi—my..” Her words are incoherent.

Her p***y clenches harder around my c**k and with a choked cry, Mirabelle comes. I don't wait for her to recover from that orgasm, I begin to thrust again, harder. Her p***y feels like a tight glove, squeezing, demanding my orgasm and after a few more thrusts, I spill into her.

Mirabelle shifts, staring at me over her shoulder. “This is sick, Vaughn.”

I don’t answer her, nothing has felt this right in a long time. “I hate this,” she says, but her p***y is still fluttering around my c**k. “Yeah?” I ask, slowly moving my c**k in and out of her while I watch her face.

She bites on her lip to keep from moaning but when I stop moving, her back arches repeatedly, wanting more, chasing more.

I wish I had more time than I do right now. It almost hurts to pull out but I have a game to win, even though it's merely a friendly practice match, losing against AU makes my bones chill.

Mirabelle turns to face me, her cheeks flushed. “Can I have my panties back?”

“Later,” I lie.

“Vaughn, I have come leaking out of my p***y, I can’t—”

She makes a good argument. I unwrap her panties from my wrist and dangle them in front of her. She snatches them, glaring at me like she hates me. “I’ll see you out there, darling. Scream loud cheers for me.”

“I’d rather choke on the ball.” She barks, sliding her panties on.

“Hmm, doable. I can make that happen, my balls are yours whenever you’d like to try.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t exactly like you either,” I lie. “But I love your p***y, Mirabelle and I know you love my d**k too. You might not want to scream for me out on the field but you do scream for my c**k and that’s good enough.”