She leaned against the doorframe of my bedroom, sunlight slicing across her bare thighs, the white lace of her bikini bottom barely hiding what I knew was mine. Britt. My stepsister. Dad’s new wife’s daughter. And right then, in that moment, all I could think was how badly I wanted to ruin her.
Stepbrother Forbidden Lust: When Khloe Kingsley & Britt Blair Cross the Line.
“Do you think Dad will like these?” she asked, holding up a pair of red heels — the kind that made a woman’s ass look sinful. Her voice was sweet, innocent even, but her eyes? They were dripping with challenge.
“I don’t give a fuck what Dad likes,” I growled, pushing off the bed. “But I know what you like, Britt. And I’m standing right in front of it.”
She giggled, but it was weak. Nervous. Excited. I could smell her arousal from across the room — that musky, honeyed scent of a woman who’s been thinking about this for weeks. Maybe longer. I stepped forward, slow, like a predator testing the water, and she didn’t move. Didn’t back down.
“Khloe told me you were… wild,” she whispered, biting her lip.
Khloe Kingsley. My other stepsister. The one who’d “accidentally” walked in on me jacking off last week. The one who’d stood there, towel barely covering her tits, and watched until I came. She’d vanished without a word — but not before leaving her panties on my pillow.
Now here was Britt, younger, tighter, more innocent-looking, but just as hungry.
“Khloe knows exactly what I’m capable of,” I said, closing the gap. I grabbed her hips, yanking her against me. She gasped as she felt my cock — hard, thick, pulsing — press into her belly. “You wanna find out too?”
She didn’t answer. But her hands slid down my chest, trembling, then curled around my belt buckle.
That was all the permission I needed.
In one move, I spun her around, slammed her face-first into the wall, and ripped her bikini top down. Her tits spilled out — perfect, perky, with nipples already hard as diamonds. I palmed one, squeezed until she moaned, then slid my hand down, under the flimsy string of her bottoms.
“Fuck,” I hissed. “You’re soaked, aren’t you? Been thinking about this? About me?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, pushing her ass back into me. “Please…”
“Please what?” I teased, dragging two fingers through her slit, gathering that wetness. “You want me to make you come? Or do you want my cock inside you? Want me to stretch that tight little pussy until you scream?”
“Both,” she gasped. “God, both!”
That’s when the door creaked open.
We both froze.
Khloe stood there, barefoot, wearing nothing but one of my hoodies — and a smirk that could melt steel.
“Well, well,” she purred, crossing her arms. “Looks like the party started without me.”
Britt blushed, but I didn’t let go. If anything, I grabbed her harder.
“Get over here,” I said.
Khloe didn’t hesitate. She strutted forward, kicked the door shut, and dropped to her knees behind Britt.
“Oh my God,” Britt gasped as Khloe’s tongue traced her ass crack.
“You taste so good,” Khloe moaned, then buried her face between Britt’s cheeks, licking up her slit, circling her tight little asshole before diving back to her pussy.
Britt screamed, bucking forward, but I held her in place, grinding my cock against her back.
“Still wanna know if Dad will like those heels?” I whispered in her ear.
She could only nod, sobbing, as Khloe devoured her and I finally, finally, tore off her bikini and buried my cock balls-deep inside her.
