Page 4 of Stalker Stepbrother

“Here,” I point to my lap.

Her eyebrows draw together, and she’s poking her tongue in one cheek. “Uhh. What?”

“On my lap. Now.”

Her mouth opens but no words come out. She’s staring blankly at me.

“Lie across my lap. You need to be punished.”

She steps back, blinking rapidly, a flush appearing on her face, cheeks, and chest. “W-what? You’re going to spank me?”

“That’s what happens to bad girls.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You went to that party in that outfit and knowing full well what might happen. You knew there would be drunk frat boys, but you still went there. All for a damn book.”

This time, she stands to her full height, all five feet of her, which almost makes me laugh. Something flares in her eyes, which, in turn, makes my cock twitch. Jesus. I want her. I want her so bad.

“It’s for school! I need to study for the exam!”

“You could’ve asked to meet up a few blocks from that party. You didn’t have to go inside.”

“B-but… B-but,” she stammers, shaking her head slowly.

“Lap. Now.”

I lean back and watch her, battling the increasing bulge in my pants. How the hell can someone look this beautiful in pajamas?

I raise my brow, a silent challenge to see how far she’d let me push her buttons. Instead of staying indignant and pissed off, she huffs out an exasperated breath. She carefully lays down the book on the coffee table and steps forward.

Her throat bobs up and down as she swallows hard. With awkward and unsure movements, she lies on my lap, hand clutching the armrest. Her stomach is just an inch away from my rigid manhood, and right now, I feel like I’m the one being punished. To be this close to her pussy and not be inside is hell. Absolute hell.

My open hand hits her right butt cheek with a sharp crack, the sound magnified by the silence. She lets out a whimper, and I grit my teeth in response, my cock already straining against my zipper, begging and demanding to be let out and sink itself into her.

I massage her ass over her pajamas and spank the other cheek. Instead of pushing herself away from me, she begins rubbing her crotch on my knee. When she realizes this, she quickly stops and hides her face from me.

“Stand up, Callie,” I rasp.

She does as she’s told, but her face is beet red. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, as if she’s embarrassed and in disbelief of what she’s just done.

“Tell me to stop,” I say as I stand up, towering above her.

She tilts her head to gaze up at me. “What?”

Without another word, I grab her face gently and crush my lips to hers. Fuckin’ finally. And she tastes sweeter than I imagined. She welcomes me by opening her mouth and kissing me back.

I swallow her moans, and when I pull back, she stands on her toes and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me to her. This time, I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring the warmth of her mouth, tangling with her own tongue.

I can take her right here and right now. Make her feel so good she’ll feel me for weeks.

But no. This angel deserves more. She deserves better than a quickie in the living room. Because this isn’t gonna be a one-time thing. I’m gonna make her my wife.

My wife.

Something about that gives me sick pleasure and satisfaction. Because that’s the only place where this is headed. Her by my side forever. I don’t know yet how we’ll get there, but we will. We fucking will.

So with herculean effort and all the self-control I can muster, I hold her shoulders and push her a little away from me. With a light kiss on her forehead, I say, “Go back to your room before I lose total control. Goodnight, baby girl.”

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