My Stepbrother, My Ruin

I had no idea who I was kissing.

I mean, who would care on a high school graduation night?

And best of all, on my nineteenth birthday.

It was the perfect night to have such great, forbidden sex.

My lips crushed against his, hungry and reckless, tasting the tang of whiskey lingering on his tongue.

His hands, large and calloused, gripped my waist through thee thin, light fabric of the sundress I had worn, a soft yellow thing with spaghetti straps that clung to me in all the right places.

Beneath it, my nipples were stiff peaks pressing against the flimsy lace of my bra, a fact that hadn't escaped his attention when his hands slid lower, teasing the curve of my hips.

The small house party was just background noise, laughter, music, the clink of glasses, but the only thing I could focus on was him. He smelled like aftershave and sweat, intoxicating in the way danger always is.

When his lips left mine and found the curve of my neck, a shaky moan slipped from me before I could stop it.

My hands tangled in his short-cropped hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.

His teeth scraped against my skin, and it sent jolts of heat straight to my pussy.

"God," I whispered, breath hitching as he moved to my ear, his lips brushing over the sensitive tip.

His breath was warm and heavy his tongue darting out to taste me there.

His hands weren't idle, they trailed down my back fingers slipping lower cupping My breasts firmly through the thin material of my dress.

My body reacted to him without hesitation, heat pooled in my core, spreading outward in waves that made my knees weak. I could already feel the slick dampness spreading in my panties, the fabric sticking to my swollen pussy.

"Upstairs," he murmured against my ear, his voice low and rough.

I bit my lips, I couldn't see his face properly, but his voice, oh fuck.

I didn't hesitate. Grabbing his hand, I led him through the house, walking past drunk classmates and discarded beer bottles until we reached a dimly lit hallway.

The first door I opened led to a small bedroom, its bed unmade, smelling faintly of old cologne. I stepped inside, tugging him in after me, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind us, his hands were back on me, possessive and urgent.

He spun me around, pressing my back against the door as his mouth claimed mine again.

This time, there was no pretense, no caution, just raw need. His tongue pushed past my lips, tangling with mine as he kissed me like he wanted to devour me whole.

His dick was pushing hard against his jeans, pressing on me.

Fuck.

My chest pressed against his, and I could feel the hard planes of his muscles through his shirt.

I gasped when his hands slipped under the hem of my dress, sliding up my thighs. My panties were soaked, clinging to me in a way that made me ache for more.

He found the edge of the lace, tugging it down just enough to slip his fingers between my folds.

"You're so wet," he growled against my mouth.

"Don't stop," I breathed, my hips rolling instinctively against his hand, seeking more of the relentless pressure that was driving me insane.

His fingers plunged into me, slick and unforgiving, pounding in and out with a rhythm that made loud wet slurping noises in the quiet room.

Each thrust made my lower belly flip with pleasure.

"Fuck," I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as he pinned me to the door, his other hand tugging down the straps of my sundress with practiced ease.

In seconds, the flimsy fabric pooled around my waist, and my bra was unclasped with a quick flick of his fingers. Before I could process the cool air against my bare skin, his lips found my nipple, latching onto the sensitive peak and sucking hard.

"Oh, fuck," I cried out, my back arching, pressing myself into his mouth as his teeth grazed the stiff bud. His tongue flicked over the tip, teasing, relentless, as his fingers inside me curled just right, hitting a spot that made my hips shake uncontrollably.

"So fucking good," I gasped, my breaths coming in ragged bursts as I felt the heat in my core building to a breaking point. I was so close, teetering on the edge of orgasm, my pussy clenching against his fingers...

Then he stopped.

The sudden emptiness left me trembling and desperate, a frustrated whimper leaving my lips as he pulled back. "No," I protested, grabbing at his arm. "Please, I was so close."

He smirked, his eyes dark and wicked as he licked his fingers clean. "Not yet," he said firmly.

I groaned, my head falling back against the door. "Fine," I muttered, biting my lip. "I'll suck your dick, and you'll make me cum."

His eyebrows raised in approval, and he stepped back, his hands going to his belt. I watched, mesmerized, as he freed himself from his jeans, his cock springing out thick and heavy, already glistening with precum.

"Holy shit," I breathed, my eyes wide as I took him in.

He was massive, long, veined, and thick enough that my fingers wouldn't be able to fully wrap around him.

"Don't worry," he said, his tone softening slightly as he stroked himself slowly, the motion mesmerizing. "Take your time. I'll show you how."

I dropped to my knees, my heart racing as I wrapped a tentative hand around the base of his cock.

He guided me gently, his fingers threading through my hair as I leaned forward, letting my tongue flick over the tip. He groaned low in his throat, the sound spurring me on.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice rough with restraint. "Nice and slow. Just like that."

Encouraged, I opened my mouth, taking him in as far as I could, though he was too thick for me to take all at once.

My lips stretched around him, my tongue pressing against the underside as I began to move, bobbing my head in a rhythm that grew more confident with each stroke.

His hips jerked slightly, and I could feel the heat of him, the way he pulsed against my tongue.

"Good girl," he rasped, his hand tightening in my hair as I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper.

I licked his tip, down to his balls, that made him moan deeply, his body shivered and I knew I was doing it right.

He didn't waste time to pull me up, his lips captured mine in a bruising kiss, his hands making quick work of the rest of my clothes. My sundress and panties joined the pile on the floor, and he stepped back, stripping off his shirt to reveal a body that looked like it was carved from stone.

His chest and abs were defined, his skin taut over hard muscle, and in the dim light, every line and shadow was accentuated.

He lifted me effortlessly, placing me naked on the bed, his gaze raking over me like I was the most delicious thing he'd ever seen.

My skin prickled under his eyes, my thighs trembling with anticipation as he leaned down, his mouth brushing against my ear.

"Now," he said, his voice dark and raspy with desirr "I'm going to make you beg for it again."

The room was dimly lit, shadows flickering across the walls as he knelt between my legs, his broad shoulders framed by the faint glow of the bedside lamp.

My thighs were spread wide, pussy wet, his fing rs moved slowly down my inner thighs.

Fingers slowly touching my swollen clit.

Damn.

His eyes locked on mine, dark and filled with desire, as he positioned himself at my entrance.

I could feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, teasing, stretching the slick folds of my pussy.

The anticipation was maddening, and I whimpered, lifting my hips to meet him, desperate for more.

"Patience," he growled, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

But I didn't want patience. I wanted him, deep, hard, all of him.

I was a girl who depended on masturbation for pleasure. My interactions with penetration was a dildo.

"Please," I begged, my voice cracking as my hands clutched at the sheets beneath me.

He didn't make me wait long. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he sank into me, stretching me open inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt.

The sheer size of him had my breath hitching, my walls clenching tightly around his cock.

"Fuck," I gasped, my back arching off the bed as he filled me completely.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he pulled back almost all the way, only to drive into me again, harder this time.

The sound of our bodies meeting was obscene, wet and messy, every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.

"God, you're so fucking tight," he groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as he set a relentless pace.

Each thrust was deep and precise, hitting spots inside me that made my vision blur. My moans filled the room, mingling with the rhythmic slap of his hips against my ass. The wet sounds of his cock moving in and out of me were loud and shameless, evidence of just how soaked I was.

"Harder," I pleaded, my nails digging into his arms as he leaned over me, his face close to mine.

"You want it harder?" he asked, a wicked smirk curling his lips as he thrust into me with bruising force.

"Yes," I cried out, my voice breaking as he gave me exactly what I asked for.

He didn't hold back, his cock driving into me with a punishing rhythm that had me gripping the sheets for dear life.

My left hand went to My breasts, playing with the nipples as he went faster.

My body rocked with each thrust, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he pulled out abruptly, leaving me gasping and aching for him.

"Turn over," he commanded, his voice rough with need.

I obeyed without hesitation, rolling onto my hands and knees, presenting myself to him. He didn't waste a second, his hands gripping my hips as he slid back into me, filling me completely in one smooth motion.

"Fuck, yes," I moaned, my head falling forward as he began to move again, deeper this time.

He reached forward, tangling his hand in my hair and pulling my head back, forcing me to arch as he pounded into me from behind. Each thrust sent shockwaves through my body, his cock hitting places that made me scream his name.

"You feel so fucking good," he growled, his other hand reaching around to grab my breast, his fingers pinching my nipple.

The combination of pain and pleasure had me teetering on the edge, my thighs trembling as he fucked me harder, deeper. My wetness coated him, the lewd squelching sounds of his cock moving in and out of me filling the room.

"Touch me," I begged, my voice shaking as I felt the heat building in my core.

His hand slid down between my legs, his fingers finding my clit with unerring precision. He rubbed it in tight, fast circles, the pressure perfect, and I shattered.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-" My words dissolved into a scream as my orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, my pussy clenching around him as I came hard.

A gush of wetness soaked the sheets beneath me as my body convulsed, pleasure ripping through me in waves.

He didn't stop, his thrusts relentless as he chased his own release, my body shaking with aftershocks.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slamming into me one last time before he pulled out, his hand stroking himself quickly.

I turned my head just in time to see him finish, his cock pulsing as he spilled his hot release onto my face. The sight of him, his chest heaving, muscles tense, was enough to make my breath catch.

I was lucky to have such a wonderful experience with such a hot guy.

He collapsed beside me, his body warm and solid against mine as the room filled with the sound of our ragged breathing. My skin was slick with sweat, face with cum that I licked, tasting him.

My legs trembling from the intensity of it all.

"Happy birthday," he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face.

I couldn't help but laugh, my chest rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. "Best present ever," I whispered, a satisfied grin spreading across my face.

***

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping,those traitorous bastards, and the faint smell of cologne still lingering in the room.

My eyes blinked open, adjusting to the soft light filtering through the curtains, and then I froze.

He was there.

Damn...he was really handsome. Dark cropped hair, a handsome face, with plump kissable lips.

Same lips that kissed mine last night. A blush crept to my cheeks and I looked away.

Why was I acting as if we didn't just had a night filled with five rounds of sex?

If we weren't drunk and tired, I swore we would have had a marathon.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, casually pulling on his jeans like he had all the time in the world. My sundress was draped over his lap, and the faintest smirk played on his lips as he caught me staring.

"You're awake," he said, his voice deeper in the morning, a lazy drawl that made my stomach flip for no reason at all.

"Yeah," I croaked, my throat dry, my brain racing to catch up.

I propped myself up on my elbows, the sheets clinging to me in a way that screamed, last night happened. My cheeks burned as his eyes, very blue, by the way, trailed over me with zero shame.

"You don't look like you regret it," he said, standing up and tugging his shirt over his head, the muscles in his back flexing annoyingly.

"I don't," I shot back, sitting up straighter. "But that doesn't mean I'm calling you or anything. It was a one-time thing."

He chuckled, pulling his belt through the loops with a snap that was way too deliberate. "Funny, I don't remember giving you my number."

"Good." I folded my arms across my chest, pretending I wasn't acutely aware of how naked I still was under the sheets. "Because I wouldn't take it if you did."

He turned to face me then, his lips curling into a full-on smirk, the kind that said challenge accepted.

"Liar," he said simply.

"Excuse me?"

"You'd take it. You'd probably save it under something ridiculous like 'Hot Stranger' or 'Birthday Gift.'"

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way his grin lit up his entire face. "You're way too confident for someone who wore my dress last night."

His laughter filled the room, rich and unapologetic, as he picked up the sundress from the bed and held it up like he was about to model it again. We were both drunk, and I wanted to give him a blow job with him wearing a dress. It was stupid.

"To be fair, it looked better on me."

"Debatable," I muttered, though the memory of him winking at me while wearing it was both mortifying and hilarious.

He tossed the dress back onto the bed, leaning down just enough to invade my personal space. "You're fun," he said, his voice softer now, almost teasing. "But next time, maybe try to learn my name before you decide it's a one-night thing."

"Next time?" I scoffed, arching an eyebrow. "You're bold."

"You love it," he said, straightening up and slipping on his shoes.

Before I could reply with something witty, or at least mildly insulting, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pen. With a quick flick of his wrist, he grabbed my arm, scribbling something on my skin before I could stop him.

"What the hell?" I yanked my arm back to see a string of numbers written in messy, confident strokes.

"In case you change your mind," he said, capping the pen and tossing it back into his pocket.

I stared at the numbers, then back at him. "I'm not calling you."

"Sure, you're not," he replied with a wink, stepping toward the door.

"Wait," I called out before I could stop myself. "What's your name?"

He turned, his hand on the doorknob, that same infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.

"Ryder," he said simply, opening the door. "Don't forget it."

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with a messy bed, a stolen dress, and a scribbled phone number that I definitely wasn't going to call.

Probably.

Nine months later.

"I want to hold another party, in celebration of you getting into Crestfield!" Elara shrieked through the phone, her voice bright and obnoxiously chipper.

"Elara, no. Absolutely not," I groaned, balancing my phone between my shoulder and ear as I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter.

"Come on, Evie," she whined, dragging my name out like a kid begging for candy. "You're officially a college student now. You're supposed to be wild and crazy. Live a little!"

"First of all," I said, rolling my eyes as I opened the fridge, only to find it depressingly empty. "I got into Crestfield because I had no other choice. It's not Ravencrest, and it's not what I wanted."

"Boo-hoo," Elara mocked, her dramatic tone practically dripping through the phone. "So what if Crestfield isn't Ravencrest? At least you're going to college and studying engineering, which is, like, the most Evie thing ever."

I sighed, shutting the fridge door and leaning against the counter. "Elara, do you even know what engineering is?"

"It's like... robots and stuff, right?" she said, and I could practically hear her smirking on the other end.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, rubbing my temples.

"Anyway," she continued, undeterred, "I'm throwing this party, and you're going to come, and you're going to have fun. And maybe-just maybe-you'll get laid again."

"Elara!" I snapped, heat rushing to my cheeks.

"What?" she replied, feigning innocence. "You can't tell me you're still not thinking about him. It's been nine months, Evie. Nine. Months."

"I'm not thinking about him," I said firmly, though the lie was obvious even to myself.

"Oh, please," Elara said with a scoff. "You're probably still dreaming about that hot stranger who gave you the best night of your life, and then you-"

"I know what I did, Elara," I interrupted, groaning. "I took a shower and washed off his number. Can we move on?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully. "I'm never letting you live that down. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who looks like a Greek god and actually knows what to do in bed? And you just let him disappear."

I sighed, leaning against the counter and pinching the bridge of my nose. "I didn't let him disappear. It was a one-night stand. That's literally how they work."

"Not when they're that good," she quipped. "Honestly, I'm just disappointed in you. I expected more from my best friend."

"Well, sorry to disappoint," I said dryly. "Now, can we please talk about something else? Like how you're going to pay for this party you're so determined to throw?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," she said breezily. "I've got it all figured out. You just have to show up and look hot. It's not that hard, Evie."

I rolled my eyes, already regretting this conversation. "Elara, I really don't think-"

"Nope," she interrupted. "You're coming. End of discussion."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the sight of my mom sitting on the living room sofa stopped me in my tracks.

"Elara, I'll call you back," I said quickly, cutting her off mid-rant.

"What? Why-"

"Mom's here," I said, already lowering the phone.

"Fine," she huffed. "But we're not done talking about this party, Evie!"

I hung up before she could say anything else, stuffing my phone into my pocket as I walked into the living room.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, frowning as I took in the sight of my mom sitting stiffly on the edge of the couch, her hands folded tightly in her lap.

"That's not how you talk to your mum."

"Well, that's how I talk to my mum, who left me for over a year and didn't even bother showing up to her daughter's graduation," I snapped, arms crossed tightly over my chest. "I was the best in my class, by the way. Not that you care."

"Oh, come on, Evie," my mother said, waving me off as if I were being dramatic. "You're a big girl now. Besides, I was... busy. Trying to get you a proper life."

"Yeah, by stripping your life away," I shot back, my tone sharp. "Great way to be a mother."

Her face twitched, just for a second, before she composed herself and smoothed her dress, a glittery, way-too-tight number that clung to her figure like desperation. Her hair, a bright platinum blonde with dark roots peeking through, fell in loose curls around her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless, but heavy, the kind that didn't just try to hide age but bury it completely.

"My little pessimist," she said with a sigh, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. "I heard you got into Crestfield."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. A low-class school. Exactly what you're about to call it, right?"

She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning shock. "I wasn't going to say low-class."

"No?" I challenged, glaring at her.

"Fine," she admitted, waving her hand dismissively. "It's not Ravencrest, is it? But it's... something, I suppose."

"Wow, thanks for the glowing review," I said, the sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Now, can you go back to wherever you were before? I don't need your commentary."

She ignored me, standing up from the couch and smoothing her dress again. "What if you got into Ravencrest?"

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "They don't give scholarships, Mom. That's the whole point. It's for rich kids and trust fund babies. Not for people like us."

"People like us," she repeated, her tone almost mocking. "There you go again, being so pessimistic."

"And there you go again, being delusional," I shot back, a grin tugging at my lips. "I know, Mother. I know. Now leave."

She didn't move. Instead, she tilted her head, her gaze distant for a moment before her eyes lit up with an unnerving enthusiasm. "You're going to love it, Evie. Just imagine: a big university, a gorgeous campus, parties on yachts-"

"Yachts?" I interrupted, my brows shooting up. "Really? Dad left you for another woman, Mom. And not just any woman, his wife. You weren't even the first pick. You were the 'other woman' chasing after a rich husband. And now you're back here, being-"

"Unreasonable?" she cut in, her voice unusually calm as she reached into her purse.

I stopped mid-sentence as she pulled out her hand and held it up.

There, sitting on her ring finger, was a massive diamond ring.

My jaw tightened. "Who did you steal that from?" I asked coldly.