VULTURE (a Stepbrother Romance) (15 page)

T
he sound
of children’s laughter rang out in the background. Their tiny voices echoed as they played outside, enveloping us as I watched my gorgeous wife set a plate of muffins on the table, then move over to the sink in the kitchen. I couldn’t stop looking at her, even after all these years, more amazed by her and by our amazing daughter with each passing day. They were both flawless. I slipped two strong arms around Sara’s swollen belly, caressing the bump of our soon-to-be baby and nuzzled her neck, my groin rubbing up against her ass.

Our baby, I repeated in my head. Still amazed at the wonder of it all. I’d honestly believed I was infertile, with absolutely no chance of ever becoming a father, a fact that had weighed me down for the majority of my adult life. But here I was, husband to the woman of my dreams, father to a beautiful daughter, and with the help of the advances in science, a miracle baby on the way. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting for a bit?” I asked and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“I can’t sit down. I get too bored, but especially ‘cause the kids think it’s the best thing in the world to come bounce on the sofa next to me.”

“Well, you have to have a little lie-down soon. You’re eight months pregnant, honey,” I foolishly reminded her, as if she didn’t already know.

“I know, I know. I’ll be good tomorrow. I promise. You can boss me around all you want tomorrow and command me to stay in bed should you wish.”

“Oh, really? How about I take you to bed right now? Or better yet, right here?” I snaked a hand around her waist and down to the warm spot between her thighs.

She moaned my name, both in protest and in pleasure. “We can’t…” she breathed.

“Sadie has them all in the garden, eating cake; we have plenty of time. I have to hear you moan.”

She had on a flowing dress, and I quickly gathered up the material at the front and dipped a hand inside her knickers.

“Always so wet for me, my love… I do think you protest too much.”

I kissed her neck again and groped at her breast as she braced herself against the kitchen sink. “Okay, be quick,” she agreed and blushed a gorgeous pink just like the Queen of Sweden roses she’d planted outside. “Do that thing I like.”

“With pleasure.” I breathed into her ear and felt her body shudder. She loved it when I whispered close to her ear, breathing sweet nothings as her eyes rolled back into her head.

I worked her little nub till I thought she was going to scream, teasing it as much as I could without bringing her to a climax. With my other hand, from behind, I fingered her swollen hole, wanting so desperately for it to be my cock, but I was happy to send her wild instead. And though Sara liked me to take charge most of the time, to tell her what to do in bedroom, there was always that fine line lurking in the back of my head, conscious and sympathetic to what she’d endured in her former marriage. But we had an understanding; we each knew our limits and respected them. It made the sex even hotter, and it made her more confident than ever. I even had to admit that when the tables were turned and she took control, telling me what she wanted and where she wanted it, it was the best sex I’d ever had. Everything else paled in comparison.

“Oh, baby, I’m coming… don’t stop,” she said. I felt her pussy contract and wrap tightly around my digits. She shuddered again as she came, her legs shaking. I removed my hand, turned her around and kissed her.

“Maybe I should sit down now,” she gasped, then giggled.

But instead of moving to the nearest chair she pulled me into another voracious kiss.

“Okay, lovebirds. Enough of that, thank you. There are children here, and you’re about to have company,” Sadie said from the doorway, walking in on us, hand in hand with Norah, her life-long partner and soon to be wife.

A blush crept up my cheeks, but I was thankful for her impeccable timing. “Spoilsport.”

“How’s the birthday girl?” Sara asked as a train of little monsters, all hopped up on sugar, came screaming into the kitchen.

Sadie opened her mouth to respond just as our three-year-old daughter, Lily Victoria Guyer, came running in after the rest of the other kids. Her blue Mary Jane shoes clapped softly against the wooden floor, and her curly, dark-brown hair bounced about her shoulders.

“Here’s the birthday girl!” Sadie cooed and squatted down on her haunches. Her arms stretched out as our darling daughter threw her tiny body into her auntie’s arms. “How you doing? Enjoying your party?”

“Yes!” Lily chimed, a grin pasted on her lips.

Three years ago, I wouldn’t have believed this was possible. I was deluded, going after every woman I could, trying to find the right one, scared I’d miss her in the crowd, but then Sara had somehow lifted the wool from my eyes. And as soon as our Lily popped out into the world, that was it. I was a goner. Smitten with them both, believing my heart would break the longer I looked at them.

“I can’t believe she’s three already,” I murmured in Sara’s ear. Her beautiful green eyes glinted with amusement, happiness and absolute joy.

“I know, right? It feels like yesterday when she came into our lives and changed us, and in more ways than one,” she answered.

I embraced her, not caring who saw, because I was so damn proud of my wife and how strong she was. Yes, she’d had her ups and downs, but with a little support, she fought through the pain and turmoil. “Don’t ever change, OK?”

She pulled back, a little confused, but she indulged me and nodded.

I gave Sara a quick kiss and smiled before walking toward Lily and picking her up, swinging her into my arms.

“Are you ready to open your presents?” I asked.

“Of course, Daddy!” Lily laughed, as if the answer to the question was obvious.

Lily reached her chubby little arm out, fingers clasping toward Sara. “Mommy, you have to come watch me open my presents, too.”

Sara took the little hand. “Well, my ladies, shall we?” I said and while we were all linked hand in hand, one happy family, we walked to the pile of presents together, never ever wanting to let go.

T
hank you for reading
. And while it was tough going at the start (plenty of tissues were needed while writing!) I sincerely hope you enjoyed Harvey & Sara’s story and the struggles and emotional turmoil they both overcame to be together.

E
milia Beaumont is
a full-time writer, originally hailing from England, living in the South of Ireland with her husband and a house full of cats. Surrounded by peaceful emerald fields she always has a pen and notebook to hand ready for when the next saucy idea strikes. Emilia is also an avid comic-book reader, and a wildlife advocate.

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E
nticed

Billionaire Stepbrother

Expecting my Billionaire Stepbrother’s Baby

SNAKE: a Stepbrother Romance

Kiss Me Again (a Second Chance Stepbrother Romance)

C
heating
, f**king, lying Snake!

I thought he was different than all the rest.

My stepbrother, Devan, was everything I longed for in a man: loyal, protective, and strong.

After being burned so many times by cheating scumbags, you can understand why. Devan’s the perfect guy; the standard I hold other men up to. If only I could have a carbon copy of him… tattoos and all.

But then he kissed me. And no matter how much I want him to be mine, I now see him for what he really is.

Another snake that can’t keep it in his pants.

He’s married, for f*cks sake!

Their marriage is in trouble, but that’s no excuse, and it just happens to be one of the reasons why I’m living with the couple… I’ve made a deal to be their surrogate.

How did my life become so complicated all of a sudden?

Because now, after just one amazing kiss, I can’t stop thinking about my stepbrother and the baby I promised to give him.

T
urn the page for a teaser
…

W
e stumbled
out into the night air
, and I mean really stumbled. I almost fell on my face and would have if Devan hadn’t caught my arm.

“Whoa there, Tiger,” he said and I blushed at the pet name he kept using in place of my own.

Tiger.
I liked the sound of that. His voice was quieter outside, and he picked me up as if I weighed nothing, our faces got close, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath mingled with the warm heady musk of his sweaty body. It was a comforting smell. “Can you walk?” he whispered, and I almost said no, to prevent him from putting me down.

“I’m fine,” I said, hearing the slur in my own voice. “I’m fine.” I tried it again and got the words to come out more clearly.

He offered his arm, and I linked mine through it and leaned against him. He was toasty and strong, and god did he smell good, more intoxicating that the alcohol that was sloshing around inside me. I didn’t think I’d ever been this close to him outside of hugging him hello and goodbye. He felt nice, safe and dangerous all at the same time.
He’s off-limits,
I reminded myself.
He’s your married stepbrother!

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Dev asked quietly as we walked.

“Mark? No… I’m fine. Thank you by the way,” I replied.

I expected him to say that it was no problem, but his whole body seemed to tense up. “The fuck are you doing with a sleaze like him?” he snarled.

“I--”

Dev stopped and took hold of my shoulders.

“You deserve better than the likes of him, Mila.”

What could I say? I knew he was right. I nodded.

“He’s just someone I know,” I said weakly.

Dev shook his head, his jawline pulsing as he said through gritted teeth, “Promise me, Mila, that you won’t see him again. I don’t think I could stand his hands…” Dev stopped himself and looked away.

“Don’t think you could what?” I asked expectantly, wanting so desperately to finish that sentence.

He stood and let his eyes travel from mine to my lips and back up.

“Never mind.”

W
e took a cab home
, and when the driver pulled up to the curb, it was obvious that Monique wasn’t home. The whole house was dark, and her car was still gone from its usual spot in the driveway.

Devan tipped the cab driver and then closed the door, turning to me. “I’m gonna walk you to your place,” he said surprising me; he’d been quiet the whole ride home.

“My place is right there,” I said and giggled, pointing up ahead and to the right.

“Still,” he said, “I want to make sure you get up those stairs okay.”

Like a true gentleman, he escorted me up the stairs, keeping a tight hold of me and occasionally palming the small of my back to keep me upright when I wobbled. We stopped on the landing outside the door while I fumbled for my keys. I found them, and he took them from me, finding the right one in no time and slipping it into the lock. I turned to give him a hug.

“Tonight was so fun, well apart from, you know, what happened with Mark. But we should do it more often,” I said, my arms around him. Our chests were pressed together and he squeezed me tight around my waist. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you for everything you’re doing,” Devan whispered. His mouth was right beside my ear, and I felt his lips brush against my lobe as he spoke.

I breathed in sharply as I felt my body respond to his touch. Locked in the hug, I suddenly found that I didn’t want to let go, and he didn’t make a move to release me, either. In fact, I wanted to be closer to him. Insanity overcame me, and I squeezed him and moved my hips closer to his. I felt something hard against my thigh and knew that he was feeling the same thing.

“Dev?” I whispered, pulling back, my cheek brushing against his short stubble.

I glanced up, seeing the fire in his eyes, and then almost at once his lips were on mine. I hardly had the chance to breathe.

He was still holding me up, which was a good thing because when his lips pressed against my mouth, I was overtaken with a sensation of desire I’d never felt before – not with Mark, not with anybody.

I kissed him back, knowing full well I shouldn’t, but I ignored any thoughts to desist. I pressed my mouth to his, wanting more. His tongue slipped into my mouth, roughly brushing over my lips, and filled me till I felt my eyes roll back.

But kissing didn’t seem like enough, and a familiar swirl of pleasure, a pulse between my legs, started to demand more. He dropped his hands to my ass and pulled me sharply toward him, toward the bulge in his pants. I rubbed my body against it through his pants and felt his cock move, his erection gaining strength.

Devan’s hands were all over me, greedy and wanting. He brushed my hair away from my shoulder, and his hand skirted down to my breast. He squeezed it gently through the fabric of my dress, and my chest pounded with excitement. He thumbed at my erect nipple through my bra. He fiddled with it, rolling it between his fingers, and I moaned into his mouth.

I found the top of his jeans, then moved my hand beneath his shirt, needing to touch his skin. I moaned again as my fingertips trailed over abs, solid and unyielding, then pulled him closer. All the while we were kissing, kissing, kissing, and I never wanted to stop.

Each time one of us began to pull away, the other would pull back in. I dropped my hand back to his pants and began to slide my fingers along the shaft of his cock. I wanted to curl my hand around it and take it fully into my palm, but his pants were too tight for that to be an option. Instead, I pressed my palm against his shaft and rubbed. He moaned and reached for my ass again, yanking me in close to him and bringing one of my legs up onto his hip.

“God, I want you,” he whispered.

“Me too,” I admitted, and I pressed my body against his, clearly indicating I wanted more.

“I don’t want him touching you, ever again…”

“Never,” I breathed in agreement.

With all thoughts of Mark completely obliterated from my mind I arched my leg higher on Dev’s hip. He lifted me slightly, my pussy rubbed against his shaft, and we both groaned together. I felt off-balance, but I knew he had me; his grip was so strong and solid.

He’d never let me fall.

We kissed deeper, more deeply than I had ever kissed anyone, his tongue finding its way to the back corners of my mouth, and it still didn’t feel like it was far enough. I wanted him to consume me. I felt like I was on fire with arousal, and I knew that I was wet. I wanted to kiss him all night long.

Devan lifted the hem of my skirt, his hand working its way up my thigh.
Touch me,
I wanted to yell. I wanted his hand, his fingers directly on me, fondling my wet folds. He traced a fingertip along the edge of my panties, driving me crazy.

“You like that? My finger there?”

“Mhm,” I moaned.

He swirled a digit over my thoroughly soaked panties, and using his hand, cupped my drenched pussy. There was only a thin thread of material between us, and I wanted it gone. I wanted him in me.

Headlights flashed and bounced as a car travelled down the street. Sensing it as it turned into the driveway, we pulled apart, out of our nearly hypnotic trance. My heart stopped, and Devan let go of me as we looked at each other, not daring to move…