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Then Dom begins to move inside me, stroking my pussy in fast, furious pumps, driving me to the edge of insanity in a matter of moments.
The angle he’s hitting is perfect, and suddenly I’m hurtling over the cliff, my pussy clenching and clamping as it tightens around his thickness. I moan his name over and over, the sheer ecstasy better than anything I ever imagined.
I start to come down from the orgasm, but he doesn’t let me get far before he pulls out, flips me around and tosses me higher up on the bed. Then he’s crawling up and over me, his face going intense. Serious. Passionate.
“Poppy,” he whispers, running a finger along my cheek. And what I see in his eyes is everything I ever hoped for. Everything I know is wrong because he’s my stepbrother.
But I don’t know how it can be wrong when it feels so very right.
Dom lowers himself to his forearms, framing my face, and slowly slides himself back inside me. Both of our breaths rush out, mingling in the intense energy that’s suddenly between us. This moment is everything.
He moves slowly, drawing out our pleasure, his eyes never leaving mine as he fucks me in a way that feels a whole lot like making love.
I watch as all the emotion I’m feeling crosses over his face like a mirror. He feels it too.
Then he wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my neck, and we both shatter into a million pieces as we cum together, but somehow, I feel more whole than I ever have.
After a while, he lifts his head and presses a soft, gentle kiss to my lips.
“Mine,” his whispers, in awe, as if he can’t believe it.
And I know it’s true. I’m his. I always have been. And I always will.
Celine & Wes
Celine
My heart jumps up into my throat as the train comes to a stop. I glance out the window, then sigh in relief when I see I’m not at my stop yet. I’ve been trying to disappear into my own head for the past twenty minutes on the ride in from Brooklyn, trying not to think about what I’m about to do.
There’s still time to back out.
I bite my lip, wondering if I’ve lost my mind. Who the hell auctions off their virginity?
Broke-ass chicks who are one step away from spending their last hundred bucks on a bus ride back to Kansas, apparently.
I close my eyes again and draw a deep breath. Well, I try to, but my chest feels like a thousand pound anvil is resting on it.
“You okay?” a smooth voice says softly from right beside me.
My eyes fly open again, and I turn quickly to see if the man is talking to me. And immediately wish I hadn’t.
As if I’m not already a bundle of nervous energy, seeing this ridiculously hot guy next to me has my erratic heartbeat ratcheting up even higher.
I offer a small smile and nod, not quite meeting his eyes, then I grit my teeth. This right here is exactly why I’m still a virgin. I’m barely able to look at a guy, much less speak. Flirting is entirely out of the question.
“You sure?” He quirks a dark eyebrow at me, a cocky smirk spreading across his face—his gorgeous, make-me-sin face. “You look like you’re ready to jump off this train while it’s still moving.”
“That obvious?” I ask, finding my voice.
He shrugs. “Maybe it’s the way you’ve nearly chewed your finger off since I’ve been sitting here watching you.”
Watching me? How long has he been watching me? I look down at my fingernails and cringe. So much for that manicure. Now I get to be an awkward as fuck virgin up on stage in addition to having mangled nails.
“I’m Wes,” he says, that smirk still in place.
And damn it, if he doesn’t have my heart stuttering again. His eyes are an unusual greenish-grey, and they have me hypnotized.
The smirk grows wider. “And you are?”
