Step-Hero (Wanting What’s Wrong #1) Read Online Dani Wyatt

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Forbidden, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
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I wipe the thick, white liquid from my lips with the back of my hand, but not before several thick drops spill down onto my breasts and belly.

I have nothing to compare it to, but it just seems like so much. So much cum. I never dreamed that when a man came there would be so much. So maybe it’s just him. He’s huge, I know that for sure. No wonder he comes like a stallion.

He blinks down at me, almost squinting as hee runs his hand over his head, squeezing the top like it’s about to pop off.

“Jesus.” His voice is hoarse and raspy. "Fuck, Kitty Kat. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” I whisper, scooting forward on my knees, placing my chin on his rock-hard abs. “That good?”

He swallows once, his Adam’s apple sliding down his muscular throat, and shakes his head, softly smoothing my hair down over my back as his demeanor turns serious.

“What is it?” I ask, sure after his release, he’s coming to his senses. We shouldn’t have done this…

“Just you. Just this.”

But it’s more than that. I know him as well as I know myself. “Tell me.”

“My baby sister. Naked and covered in my cum. My fucking dream come true.”

He scoops up the dribbles of cum on my chest, then motions for me to turn around. “Ass up, head down. Get used to hearing that baby, it’s going to be my new mantra.”

I do as he asks, spinning around and sucking in a sharp breath as his finger slips deep inside me, pumping, pumping as he presses his other hand flat between my shoulder blades.

“We won’t ever waste a drop. This is letting your little pussy know it’s going to be bred soon. A little taste of my seed before the big show. Daddy’s girl is going to be full very soon.”

I jerk and spasm, tossed into another convulsing orgasm as my step-brother calls himself Daddy and shoves a finger full of his cum inside me.

Put a fork in me. I’m. Done.

An hour later now, maybe more. We fell asleep after Trent finally got his shower, and between us we got him bandaged up. While we soaped and let the water wash away our guilt, he got on his knees and ate me from the front and back until I couldn’t stand.

We were tangled up in each other’s arms under the covers and it felt like coming home. Not like siblings but like lovers. I wake up first, and tip-toe over to the bedroom door, careful not to wake him. I slip his t-shirt on over my head and let myself quietly out the door.

The sun is down, and I’m so thirsty, I make a silent beeline down the wide curved staircase to the immaculate kitchen.

I have been so focused on Trent, on us, that I haven’t really absorbed how magnificent this place is. It has to be 10,000 square feet, overlooking Lake Alpine. It shimmers in the moonlight, and in the distance—a thread of pink from the setting sun on the horizon and outline of the distant peaks of the mountains.

I take a heavy, crystal glass from the cupboard and fill it from the dispenser in the fridge door, gulping it down and then going back for a refill, quenching my thirst on a sigh as the full impact of the day washes over me.

Sinking down on a big plush chair that overlooks the lake, I take stock of my own body. My legs are quivering as I lower myself into the cushion, tired from being spread wide. Muscles not yet recovered from the rolling orgasms of which I lost count. My throat feels raw and I realize my hair is stiff with his semen. He didn’t want me to wash all of him off when we showered, which felt odd at the time, but now, I’m sort of happy he’s still on me.

But sitting here in this huge room, alone, the reality of what we’ve done overtakes me.

Such a clash of emotions. I feel peaceful. And yet…also, ashamed.

I feel sure we were just caught up in the moment. Hungry, missing each other, like wild animals acting on instinct. For a terrible second, I think to myself I could have been anybody. What if I was just the first woman available, the first woman he could get his hands on?

My mind flashes to war documentaries, like we saw in school. Soldiers kissing any woman they can find when they arrive back home, ticker-tape parade papers falling like confetti from the sky into the girl’s shiny curls and the soldier’s broad shoulders.

Surely it isn’t me who he really wants. It’s just me who was in front of him first.

And that thought, it both helps and hurts. It means this taboo thing we’ve done, maybe it was just an accident. At least we didn’t finish it. Go to that final place and make a mistake we cannot undo.


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