HUGE: A STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (HUGE Series)

I don’t know how I manage to find the brain power to get myself home, but I do, managing it partly on bare feet when I finally conceded that my shoes are agonizing and I’m sore enough already without losing toes making my escape.

I get into my room and close the door and lock it and then stand there like one of those Ancient Greek warriors faced with a gorgon.  I’ve turned to stone. I want to scream FUCK FUCK FUCK in the loudest voice but Dad and Lacey are home and so my terrible expression of utter mortification is instead uttered quietly against the fist I seem to have half shoved into my mouth.

Oh my God.  He knew.  He knew.

My whole body is a big bundle of adrenaline spiked flesh and boneless panic.

He said princess.  It’s the nickname he always uses for me because he knows how much it pisses me off.  But did he mean it directly at me because he knew, or does he just throw around that patronizing term of endearment to any girl that crosses his path.  I feel sick to my stomach…in fact…

…I dash to my bathroom and only just reach the toilet before I start to heave.  I hate being sick at the best of times, but now I’m shaking and crying because I don’t know what to do. If he knows it was me, if he guessed, then how can we pretend it never happened?  I can’t go back to being his stepsister and sitting next to him at dinner making innocuous family style conversation.  I can’t hear him call me princess again without seeing him lying on that rug, jeans around his thighs and his hand covering up the evidence of what we’d done.

I retch again at the thought of having to go downstairs tomorrow and see him pour out his stupid sugary chocolate cereal like an overgrown five-year-old, and pretend nothing happened.

This is a disaster of epic proportions.

At the sink, I wash out my mouth with a handful of water and then catch sight of myself in the mirror. My black lace bat mask it still in place but my white face make-up is smudged and my lipstick is nonexistent.  I look at myself objectively, trying to work out if he could have guessed.  With my purple eyes and a lot of my face covered by the mask and my wig, I can’t see how he would have suspected. I kept my voice level different the whole time.  I didn’t slip once.  When I left the house before the party I was totally convinced he would never guess.  My heart rate starts to normalize as I begin to doubt my panic-induced freak out.  Harrison can be a real charmer. I know this.  He has a silver tongue.  That must be what the ‘princess’ comment was all about.  Just him rolling out the smooth moves.

Maybe I’m worrying about nothing.  I take some steadying deep breaths, holding onto the edge of the sink.  Then, when I feel more normal, I start the process of removing my costume.  Each layer that I peel away makes me feel better.  I stuff the whole thing into a bag and hide it at the back of my closet in a large white cardboard box that houses my memorabilia.  I take out the contacts and use make-up remover pads to scrape away the remnants of the white face-paint and smoky black eyeliner.  When my skin in clean I peel down my holdups and panties and remove my bra.  It’s late to have a shower and I know the damn pipes will groan loudly when I turn it on, but I feel like I need to wash, if nothing else to soothe my poor lady bits.  I find water really cathartic when I’m stressed and it’s nice to wash my hair that has been squashed under the hot wig.

I towel myself dry and get into some cute pajama’s that are made of silk and so soft against my skin.  I’m thirsty so I pop downstairs to get some water.  The house is so quiet and I look around at my home that has changed so much over the past year.  Lacey has been redecorating which is great.  The place had been getting pretty shabby.  She has a bit of a thing about photographs and always insists we have ‘family’ pictures taken at any special occasion.  There are five framed shots of me, dad, Lacey and Harrison in the hall alone.  We look kind of awkward in all of them, but I guess maybe that’s why Lacey has been trying so hard to unite our family.  I stare at the most recent one and notice for the first time that Harrison seems to be looking at me.  If I remember correctly dad had been goofing around, telling one of his ridiculously unfunny jokes.  I’m laughing and so is Lacey and I always thought that Harrison was looking amused in the picture, but now that I’m studying it more closely, his expression seems warm and kind of affectionate.

I shake my head, feeling ridiculous for overlaying my sentimental feelings onto something that’s probably as innocent as I had previously thought it was.  I’m reading too much into everything and I know it’s my sex brain that’s to blame.  It’s a girl thing, I think.  We sleep with someone and somehow all these feelings are pumped into our bodies and we become weak.  I don’t want to be weak for Harrison.  I need to be strong now so that I have the courage to move on and pretend everything is normal.

Back in my room I close my door, turn off the light and slip under my comforter.  With my whirring brain, it’s hard for me to sleep but I must fall into dream world at some point because it’s light in the room when I come around.  I feel hotter than usual and push my arms out of the covers and stretch.  I always go to sleep on my side facing the wall and have woken up in the same position.  It’s a few seconds before my mind catches up with my body and I realize what I did last night.  I moan softly, remembering in flashes the amazing sex and that terrible moment when Harrison called me princess.

“That’s the noise I like to hear,” Harrison’s voice whispers from behind me.

I turn, scrabbling with the covers to find him lying on the other side of my king bed, hands behind his head as though he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“What the fuck, Harrison,” I stutter, pulling the comforter around my neck to protect my modesty.  It’s a stupid reaction bearing in mind what we did less than twelve hours ago, but what can I say?  I’m running on gut reactions here.

“You’re a strange girl,” he says, still looking up at the ceiling with a stupid grin on his face. It’s his panty melting one.  I can tell from the little dimple he has on the cheek closest to me and the crinkles around his eyes that I love so much.  Strange girl is what he called me last night when I was dressed as vampire-goth.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

I bury my head under the covers and groan.  The terrible sinking feeling I have in my gut is the same one I get when I have the college dream where I’m wearing only my granny pants and an old sports bra and everyone is pointing and laughing.  Except this time the only person laughing is Harrison and suddenly I’m angry.

Who the fuck does he think he is coming into my room dressed in his sexiest tight black boxers and laying himself down on my comfortable sheets looking like a total sex god?  Stupid question.  He thinks he’s Harrison Stone and he knows…he really, absolutely knows it was me he fucked at the party.

Before I have a chance to whip out from under the covers and confront him with my angry self in full red-rage flow, I feel the bed shift as if he’s rolled towards me. Then I feel his heavy hand take hold of the covers and peel them slowly back.  I peek through my fingers and find him looking down at me with his gorgeous eyes all soft and gooey, as though he’s looking at something or someone he really, really likes.

He’s looking at me and it’s not with anger or disgust.  Harrison has come into my room wearing nothing but his underwear and is looking at me as though I’m the sweetest, pinkest cupcake he’s ever seen and he wants to lick off all my frosting!

“You know,” I whisper, hiding behind my fingers again while I wait for the ground to swallow me up and take me straight to hell.

“Of course I know, princess,” he says gently easing my hands away from my face.  I look up at him and feel ridiculous for feeling like I’m suddenly in the sunlight.

“How?”  I was sure my costume was the perfect cover.

“You think you’re such a master of disguise,” he laughs.  “The costume was good and your voice, that was pretty different, but your laugh…” he shakes his head.  “I’d know that laugh anywhere.”

“God,” I say, hiding again at how pathetic I am.

“Stop burrowing like some kind of deranged mole,” he says tugging back the covers.  “Why are you acting all coy now?  You weren’t shy last night.”

“I was in character,” I say weakly.

“I noticed,” he chuckles.  “That was a pretty amazing costume.  You about blew my mind.”

I look up, ready to shout at him for teasing, but he looks pretty earnest.  And then it hits me.  He knew it was me when I laughed and the only chuckling I did was before we played hide the sausage.  That means he wanted to have sex, even when he knew it was me under the disguise.

“You knew,” I say with a gasp.  “You knew before and you still did it.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jenna.”  I must look confused because he reaches out to stroke my face, just like he did last night.  “How could anyone turn you down?  Have you seen you?  Have you met you?  You’re pretty damn amazing.”

“Amazing for a one night stand?”

“Yeah,” he says, and my heart sinks.  “But amazing for more too.”

I rub and my eyes, suddenly feeling like I must still be dreaming. Maybe it was the alcohol I drank last night that has made my dreams more vivid that usual.  When I open my rubbed eyes, Harrison is still there.

“You’re still here?” I say and he looks at me like I’m the idiot.

“Where am I supposed to be going, you strange girl.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“You prefer princess now?”

I punch him on his very bare, very solid bicep and hurt my pathetic fist.

“It’s too early in the morning for me to deal with all of this,” I say, sounding whinier than I would usually deem acceptable.

“You don’t have to deal with anything, princess,” he replies soothingly.  “Just let me take the lead and you follow, okay?”

Before I have a chance to ask Harrison what the hell he’s talking about, he presses his amazing full lips against mine, so gently it makes me shiver.  He pulls back and looks me in the eyes as though he wants to check that what he’s doing is okay.  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

“What I should have done a long time ago,” he says kissing me again.  “Taking what’s mine.”

Harrison slips his hand into my hair and grips tightly so he can angle my head to align our mouths perfectly, then he rolls until he’s on top of me, thigh pressing between my legs with the comforter in between us.  His kiss is so good; soft lips but persistent tongue, stroking into my mouth in a way that blows my mind.  I’ve always loved kissing but never found a man that can set my body alight with just his lips on mine, but Harrison is perfect.

I stroke over his arm and back, remembering how good he felt when I touched him the first time.  Even in the cold room he is deliciously warm and smooth.  I love that he isn’t rushing this time.  This is about more than just getting to that end goal and for some crazy reason I feel totally relaxed, despite the fact that he’s my stepbrother and our parents are just down the hall.

Harrison starts to press his thigh up in the rhythm of his kiss and I moan and squirm, feeling too hot under the covers and wanting the delicious pressure to be more direct, even though I’m feeling so sore.

“The covers,” I whisper to Harrison when I’ve managed to separate from his kiss for a moment.  He grins down at me like a wolf about to get a whole farms-worth of pigs to gobble up, and then tugs at the comforter until it’s pushed to the side.  Harrison’s strokes the silk of my PJ’s.  “Nice,” he says.  “Do you always wear this sexy shit to bed by yourself?”

I stare at him in mock horror.  “Of course not. Just when I know my stepbrother is going to sneak into my bedroom to deflower me under my father’s roof.”

Harrison looks a bit ashamed and I grin.  “Don’t underestimate the importance of good underwear and nightwear Harrison Stone.”

“Never again,” he says, putting his hand on his heart like he’s swearing an oath.

“Now get over here and show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rather than kissing me again, he sits up on his knees and looks down at me, rubbing his big, strong hands over my thighs.  “All the things I want to do to you, Jenna,” he says.  “You have no fucking idea how much I think about you.  How many times I fantasized about us being together.  I saw you watching me the other day,” he grins.

“What?”  I don’t understand what he’s talking about immediately and when I do I’m indignant.  “I wasn’t watching you.  Stop trying to make me out to be some kind of pervert.”

“I left the door open on purpose.  It turned me on so much to know that you were looking.  It took all my restraint not to look up at you and tell you what I want to do to you.”

I shake my head, realizing how stupid we have both been, playing games with each other when, if we’d given clearer signs, we might have come together sooner.

“Can I look at you, Jenna?” he murmurs.  “I felt you last night, but I didn’t get to see all of you.”

I nod and lift my top off over my head, bearing my breasts to him.  Harrison reaches forward and takes them into his palms and squeezes gently, then strokes his thumbs over the tips of my nipples until they are hard, pointed and dark rose pink.

He runs his hands down my sides, mapping my curves and then circling my belly button with his finger.  He traces the edge of my PJ shorts and I watch as he inches them down, his eyes following the fabric down to my feet.

“Look at you,” he says, so reverently I suddenly feel a bit tearful.  I don’t know how we got to this point, but I’ve wanted to be with him so much, that now we are finally here it almost feels too much.  “You’re beautiful, Jenna, baby.  So beautiful.”

He eases my knees apart until I’m spread open before him.  When he looks between my legs his expression changes.  “You look so sore,” he says.  “Is that from last night?”

I go to close my legs, but he holds them open, looking mortified.  “Don’t,” I say.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says.  “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Fuck, Harrison.  You didn’t okay.  It felt good, but you’re really big down there. I’m not used to it.”

“Everyone thinks that having a big dick is the best thing in the world.  They don’t realize how fucking impractical it can be.”

“Hey,” I say.  “I love your big dick.  You’ve just got to let me recover in between.”

He smiles down at me then looks thoughtful.  “I know we’re not going to be able to fuck again but can I make you feel good baby.  Can I make you come?”

I nod and he leans down between my legs and licks my clit gently.  “I promise I won’t hurt you,” he says, then licks again.

I moan at the perfect pressure, watching him take such pleasure in giving it to me.  He uses his thumbs to press me open and licks and licks as though I’m the best dessert he’s ever tasted and he just can’t get enough.  I can’t get enough of his mouth and those lips that are plump and soft against my ravaged flesh.  It feels so good to have his soothing touch, so amazingly good to feel the point of his tongue against me until I’m writhing against his mouth and he grabs hold of my thighs to hold me in place.

“Don’t stop,” I hiss, legs trembling against his hands.  “I’m going to…I’m going to….”

He taps my clit once with his finger, hard, and I’m coming and coming, legs straight and toes curled, mind lost somewhere in that foggy sex place that’s a little bit of heaven and hell all rolled into one.  Heaven because of how amazing it feels to reach that peak and slide right off the top.  Hell, because you know it’s not going to last and you wish it would.  Just a few more seconds of perfection and peace and tranquility.  I don’t register how long I’m lost for but when I come around Harrison is watching me, looking very pleased with himself.  He strokes a finger between my pussy lips, gliding in the wetness he made, then brings it to his lips.

“I love the way you taste,” he says.  “So perfect.”

My eyes slide down the slice of man-lusciousness that is kneeling up between my legs; god, his chest is something like a phenomenon and his little brown nipples…looking at them makes my clit pulse again.  Lower, his abs are so tight and mmmm. And between his legs stands the real spectacle of miraculousness.  Harrison’s cock looks so hard it must be painful.

“Show me,” I say, looking at his bulge and raising my eyebrows so he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“You wanna see how hard I am for you?” he mutters, sounding a little bit distracted with lust.

“Yeah, show me.” I sit up and watch as he eases the waistband of his boxers down and his cock springs free.  Looking at it now, I have no idea how I managed to fit that inside me. No wonder I’m sore.  It looks so damn good and my pussy is suddenly all achy and ready for him again.  I crawl to the edge of my bed and pull out the tube of lube I keep in my nightstand drawer.  Harrison watches me like a coiled snake, ready to strike at any second.  I crawl back and kneel in front of him squeezing some of the cold lube into my hands and rubbing them together.  His cock kicks in anticipation, flexing and tapping his belly as I reach for him.  He feels like velvet in my fist, soft smooth skin over a rock hard center.  He shakes as I move my hand firmly up and down, watching the explicit show I’m giving him with eyes that must look so damn hungry.  I lean forward and lick the tip of him, tasting his salt-sweet arousal and loving the soft moan he makes when I wrap my lips around his cock and suck gently.

“Fuck, Jenna,” he hisses, as I circle my tongue around his cock, licking and sucking in a way that seems to drive him wild.

“Look at your pretty mouth,” he says.  “Look at your sweet little lips wrapped around my big cock.  Do you know how good that looks…how good it feels?”

I remember how he liked me to bite him and I try it gently, just a little nip with my teeth and he groans so loudly I panic that he’s going to wake our parents.  “Fuck,” he grunts.  “Do that again.” I bob my head, taking him in deeper, then as I pull back I nip him and he grabs my head and holds it totally still.  “You gotta stop, Jenna.  Or I’m gonna come and I know you didn’t go crawling for that lube for nothing.”

I pull back and lick my lips, then lie back with my legs spread wide.  “Come on then big boy,” I say, beckoning with my finger.  I reach for the lube again and pour some over my fingers, smoothing it around my pussy and pushing my fingers inside.  Harrison watches it all, fisting his cock in pulls that look too harsh to be pleasurable.

“I’m ready,” I say when I’ve done everything I can to ease the journey.  Harrison shuffles forward, pushing his legs under my thighs and using the tip of his cock to probe me between the legs.  He’s so smooth and warm and it feels so good when he rubs over my clit and then pushes in a little bit.  He does that again and again, each time opening me up just a little more until the head of his cock eases in easily and he holds totally still, watching me carefully.

“You okay, Jenna?” he asks.

“Yeah, baby,” I answer because I am.  I won’t deny that it stings a bit but the look on his face and the concern in his voice soothes it all away.  He pours some lube over the place where our bodies are now joined and smooths it around, then thrusts to get in deeper.  I watch his abs flex, his fingers grip tighter into the flesh of my hips, his face furrowed with concentration.  I know how it feels to accept a man into my body, but I have no idea what it must be like for him.  Is it different if you’re the one that is pushing in?  Does it feel different to be so in control?  He looks like it’s hurting him for a while but I think that’s just the restraint it must be taking to get his huge cock into me without making me wince.  The thing is, with each little thrust he makes, I feel myself giving way from pain to pleasure.  It’s so amazing to be doing this with Harrison as the real me, not the me that was ashamed to want my stepbrother or the me who was sad afterwards when I knew it wasn’t going to happen again.

I look up into his face and reach out to cup his cheek. When his eyes meet mine they fill with warmth and he drops down closer so he can cup my face too.

“Jenna.” He breathes against my cheek and presses soft kisses along the line of my jaw.  “Why did we wait so long to do this?”

“I don’t know,” I say pulling him down to kiss my lips.  I suck on his full bottom lip, nibbling it gently and he moans, thrusting harder and gripping my hair.  “I wanted you so much.  I couldn’t bear the idea that I might never be with you.  It’s why I came to the party so I could be with you just one time.  But it never would have been enough.”

He grips my chin tightly in his hand and stares at me in a way that makes my heart flutter.  It’s hungry and passionate and filled with ferocious longing.  “I love you, Jenna,” he says.  “You know that don’t you?”

I try to shake my head, stunned that he’s saying he feels the same way I do, but he grips harder as though he’s trying to show me how strongly he feels.  His hips change rhythm, circling and grinding as he stares at me.  “I love you, Jenna.  I have since those first weeks when mom and I moved in and we used to hook up in the den and watch 80’s action movies with microwave popcorn.”

I smile up at him because the memory of those early days, when we were getting to know each other but trying to pretend we didn’t really care, are so fresh in my mind and so filled with innocence.  He’d always let me eat more than my fair share of the popcorn and choose the movie.  When the room would get dark, we’d slump into opposite corners of the couch and sometimes I’d feel like he was looking at me but I’d be too embarrassed to check in case he was.

“That was before you started teasing me and calling me princess.”

“That was all affectionate,” he grins.

“Mmm…” I lose my train of thought because Harrison has gathered me up in his strong arms and kissed me so deeply I feel light headed.  Each roll of his hips is taking me closer but it’s the tender way he’s treating me and the love I can see in his eyes that is what makes this the best sex I’ve ever had.

“I love you too, Harrison,” I whisper and moan contentedly.  “I just never knew how to tell you without risking everything.”

“I know.”  He reaches down and clasps my leg under the knee, drawing it up and round his waist.  The deepness is exquisite.  I feel so stretched open, so owned by him.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he says, “I want you to come on me, Jenna. Show me how good I make you feel.”

I grab hold and dig my fingers into his gloriously firm ass, pulling him towards me in short sharp thrusts that are exactly what I need to take me over the edge.  He speeds up, into quick hard jerks and that’s it, I’m done for.

“Unnnnaah,” I cry, way too loudly and he covers my mouth with the palm of his hand and shushes me as my pussy clenches tight around his cock.  I’m boneless, sweaty and properly fucked so when he pulls out and starts fisting his cock all I can do is watch.  It takes five tight long pulls for him to come and he aims it at my belly, covering me in thick white steaks.

I look down at myself, and the disheveled, dirty and wanton girl that Harrison has turned me into. Then I look up at him; at his rumpled hair, heaving chest and sweat coated skin and I can’t help but laugh.

We are so perfect together it’s ridiculous.

Stepbrother or not, Harrison Stone is mine.  And now I’ve got him, I’m never letting him go.