Small Town Secrets: A Forbidden Romance Page 5

  Plus, I want Dad to be happy. He deserves it after being married three times. That last woman was terrible. She tried to hit on me, believe it or not. Her own stepson, despite the fact the woman was nearing seventy. I was disgusted and happy as hell when it turned out she was two-timing my dad.

  But Carrie’s another story. Obviously, my innocent brunette could hardly process what was happening. Sitting at my left, she barely touched her food, which I actually think is a shame. Her full figure had given me so much pleasure, and to see her eat and enjoy her meal would have made her even more adorable. But she was clearly too unsettled by these new developments to have much of an appetite.

  And yet, my control’s not perfect because ultimately, the beautiful brunette got to me. I noticed everything about Carrie. The way she didn’t say a word the whole time, barely eating, but softly panting, her huge, soft tits heaving gently inside her respectable dress. I had the urge to reach over and touch her milky skin. To put my hand in her neck and crush her to me, forcing those pure eyes to look into mine while pushing her plump lips open with my thumb. Oh yeah. So I did it.

  I had intended to tease her a little, just some casual fun. To prove to myself that I could feel her pussy and come away a sane man. But I hadn’t expected to find her so wet for me, warm and pulsing. I already had a raging hard-on when I started running my fingers up her thigh, but by the time I was done tormenting her, it was my cock throbbing painfully against the raw material of my jeans, close to bursting. Sweet Jesus. I can still smell her musky scent on my fingers as I drive my car behind Dad’s, on our way to Elaine’s place for coffee and cake.

  I might be able to fool Carrie with my coolness, making her think I’m Mr. Suave. But I can feel the caveman rising in me again, the same animalistic urges she started inciting in me from the first time I saw her. That aggressive urge to claim her, to pin her soft milky curves under the weight of my own body, with my cock so hard inside that impossibly tight pussy. That tiny creaming cunt with the cherry I popped. No other man has ever been there, and thinking of any other animal going near her makes me near blind with rage. Maybe I need to have her one more time. Just once more. Yeah, that’s it. And then the woman will be out of my system.

  I park my car behind Dad’s outside the modest little suburban house and get out. Dad is grinning, and claps me on the back as we walk up the driveway past Elaine’s sedan.

  “What do you think?” asks Dad. “She’s really something, isn’t she?”

  “She’s great, Dad,” I answer, my thoughts not on Elaine, but her daughter.

  “Thanks for making such an effort, Son,” Henry continues. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now. It means a lot that you came back to Riverbend for the weekend.”

  I grunt vaguely. “Sure no problem.”

  Henry continues.

  “Elaine loves you. Maybe next time you can bring Clarissa with you and make it a real family event.”

  Oh shit. Clarissa. I’d completely forgotten.

  “Right,” I mumble. Dad squeezes my shoulder.

  “How’s that going, anyway?” he adds with a wink. “Have you decided to pop the question?”

  I don’t answer. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? Especially given what just happened at the restaurant?

  “You know what a good match it’ll make. The three businesses combined. Yours, her father’s, and mine? We’ll have an empire, Conor. Think of that. We’ll be totally unstoppable.”

  “Let’s not spoil dessert with business talk, Dad” I say lightly. “The ladies might not appreciate it.”

  “Ever the gentleman,” Dad laughs as he knocks on the door. I smile back reassuringly, but inside, my heart’s doing flip-flops. Because oh shit. I’m supposed to be squiring some other woman about town … and yet there’s only room for Carrie in my thoughts.

  Chapter Nine

  Carrie

  “Sweetheart, they’re here!” Elaine calls from downstairs.

  “Coming!” I call back, as I slip into a new pair of panties. I feel resentment boiling up towards her which is unfair, of course. It’s not Mom’s fault that the first man who’s ever wanted me like this happens to be Mom’s fourth husband’s son. It’s just bad luck. And yet Elaine’s had so many chances to get it right. Isn’t it my turn?

  I splash water on my face and aggressively wash the thought of being with Conor out of my head. Yes, he did want me. Yes, he did take me to his country mansion and quite literally fuck me senseless. But I remind myself of his coolness today. His passion for me, his animalistic need to have me that I experienced on our first two meetings, seems gone. It’s been replaced by a kind of detached neutrality, even if he did feel my cunt under the table right under our parents’ noses. What was that about?

  I dry my face and resolve to put it all behind me. Conor took my virginity. It was hot. Unbelievably hot. Maybe I can find it in myself to chalk it down to a sexy memory? But how will we ever manage to be step-siblings after all this, especially with all the stuff he’s done to me? I gush with shame at the thought of our parents finding out. I’ll just have to try and pretend it didn’t happen. Hearing voices downstairs, I take a deep breath and head down with a smile plastered on my face.

  Mom is laughing again, a bottle of wine and four of our fanciest wine glasses on a tray in her hands.

  “Henry brought a bottle of dessert wine to have with the cake instead!” she beams.

  “Why not? We have something to celebrate,” Henry chuckles. “The start of a new family!”

  Beaming even more, Mom lifts her face up at him and they kiss. I look away, but find myself now looking at Conor, leaning casually on the counter, his hands in his pockets with an eyebrow raised at me.

  “To you, Sis,” he rumbles, lifting a glass in a toast. I go scarlet, but then my mom interrupts.

  “Carrie, will you cut the cake and bring it out?” Elaine calls over her shoulder, and she and Henry disappear into the living room.

  I’m suddenly left alone in the kitchen with Conor, who’s still grinning at me from over by the counter. He’s so relaxed and casual, that I wonder whether I might have imaged our two previous meetings. Did I conjure them up in a sick fantasy of my own? And yet he’s no less smoldering; his lips are perfectly molded, that jaw strong and square, a lock of black hair falling across his piercingly blue eyes as he keeps me pinned under his gaze. His massive body is slack against the counter as he leans backwards indolently. I have to do something, anything, to break this painful silence. I clear my throat, pushing a curl behind my ear, and turn to the cake on my right, my back now to him.

  “I - I made a carrot cake,” I stammer. “Yesterday. I hope it will go nicely, with the um, the desert wine.” God, why do I sound like a fool? I pick up the knife and lower it into the icing, bisecting the soft baked dough. The scent of the cinnamon goodness wafts up at me - normally this would make my mouth water, but now, with my nerves, it only makes me feel sick. Suddenly I feel Conor’s hands on my waist, his hot breath in my neck. Shocked, I swirl around, sending the knife clattering to the floor.

  “Carrie? Is everything ok?” calls Mom from the other room. I’m staring up at Conor’s perfect face, the blueness of his irises making my heart beat like a drum.

  “Carrie?” Mom calls again.

  “All good, Mom, we’ll be right in!” I hurriedly blurt out, desperate for her not to come into the kitchen. Conor’s hard body is pressing against mine, my back arching painfully against the counter. His hands feel their way up from my waist over my tits and onto my neck, where they rest, cupping gently. I can’t breathe. He smiles at my shock.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this all afternoon,” he rasps, those lips inches away from mine. And he kisses me with that same deep hunger I felt the first time we met. He still wants me, I think with a desperate relief. It’s not gone, he was just hiding it. I let his tongue explore my mouth, turning my knees to jelly again. But my relief at the return of his passion is short-lived. I remembe
r he’s about to become my stepbrother. I remember our parents in the next room. Summoning all my effort, I push him away.

  “We can’t” I gasp. Conor grins again, not even slightly perturbed.

  “Why not?” he whispers back.

  “Are you kidding?!” I hiss at him. “Our parents are in the next room! We’re about to become step siblings!”

  “It’s not like we’re really related,” Conor shrugs. “Who cares?” And he comes closer again, licking his lips. His hands are on my tits, groping while grazing my nipples with his thumbs. He groans into my neck. To my horror I can feel my body responding to him with desperate need.

  But this can’t happen.

  “Conor, stop,” I hiss again, and wrench myself free. “Please. It’s too weird.”

  I’m sliding away, but suddenly, his hand is on mine.

  “Carrie, don't you want this?” he whispers as his other hand cups the giant bulge in his jeans. My eyes bug, insides going instantly hot. I do, I really, really do. He can see it in my eyes.

  “Conor, don’t make me ask again,” I say in a low voice.

  “Then don’t,” he grins. I avert my eyes from his jeans, where the long ridge is now visibly outlined along his pelvis. Somehow it’s even hotter to see it hidden like that. Forbidden. Like the rest of my lust for him.

  “I popped your cherry, Carrie,” he whispers teasingly, coming closer, his hand running up and down his cock, stroking it through the material of his pants. “You told me over and over yesterday as I fucked you from behind,” he whispers, lips by my hear. “And do you remember what I said?”

  I moan slightly, eyes closing as that massive form cups me from behind.

  “I do,” is my breathless whisper. “I remember.”

  Suddenly, his hands are tense on my shoulders, that breath hot on my cheek.

  “Then say it,” he rasps in my ear. “Say what I taught you.”

  Oh god, I shouldn’t, and yet I can’t disobey.

  “I’m yours,” is my helpless mewl. “My pussy belongs to you.” A moan escapes my lips, and I immediately press them shut, hoping desperately that it wasn't loud. Conor’s kissing my neck now, and then he’s down on his knees, his head burying under my dress. Suddenly Mom comes in. Oh shit! What do we do now?

  Chapter Ten

  Conor

  I’ve just thrust my head under her dress when I hear Elaine’s voice from the other side of the kitchen. I momentarily freeze, then realize that from where she’s standing, the counter is blocking her view of Carrie from the waist down. A savage enjoyment burns inside me.

  “Where’s Conor?” I hear Elaine’s muffled question.

  “H-he’s in the bathroom,” I hear Carrie stammer above me. My face level with her pussy, I lower her panties with one finger. I feel the beautiful brunette tense up even as the smell of female cunt grows stronger.

  “Oh ok,” burbles Elaine. “What’s taking you so long with that cake, sweetheart?”

  “I, um,” Carrie mumbles. “I was just finding a better, um, knife.” I press my face against her pussy, letting my tongue run along her clit, tasting her. Carrie tenses even more.

  “I’ll be - be - be right in, Mom.”

  There’s silence for a second before Elaine’s voice comes again.

  “What is with you today, sweetheart?” she asks before lowering her voice. “Are you nervous about having a new family?”

  I bring my mouth to Carrie’s clit and suck on it gently. I hear her suppress a whimper above me and smile to myself as I continue my labor of love. My hard cock is painful in my jeans and I wish I could feel Carrie’s mouth around it.

  “N-no, not at all,” stammer Carrie.

  “Are you sure? First you don't eat a bite, now you take forever to cut some cake,” says Elaine, her voice concerned. If only Mrs. Johnson knew. Licking at her daughter’s clit, I slip a finger into her folds. Like a good girl, she’s drenched. Carrie jumps, and then coughs to camouflage the movement.

  “M-maybe I’m coming down with something. Maybe I should go to bed,” she manages.

  “Alright sweetie, but not until after they’ve left,” says Elaine. “Can you hold on until then?”

  “Sure Mom,” Carrie wheezes.

  “Good girl,” replies Elaine, and I hear her heels clacking out of the kitchen as her conversation with Dad resumes in the living room. My mouth still on Carrie’s creaming pussy, when the material of her dress around my head is suddenly yanked away. I’m looking up into Carrie’s furious face.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hisses, and I allow her to pull me up by my shirt.

  “Baby, you’re so hot when you’re mad,” I growl quietly, and I mean it. The milkiness of her skin is flushed with rage, her normally soft eyes flashing with a mixture of lust and anger.

  “Stop it, Conor! Are you trying to make me come while I’m having a conversation with my mom?!”

  “It’s not my fault she came in,” I joke, my cock still throbbing inside my jeans.

  “We’re in the kitchen! What's wrong with you?” she hisses desperately at me. “Can’t we do this somewhere more private?”

  “But baby, where would be the fun in that?” I press my pelvis against hers, my bulge against her wet pussy. I cup her huge tits through her dress, nipping with my teeth at her nipples through the material. Her eyes roll back in pleasure despite her exasperation with me.

  “It’s indecent,” she whispers, her head falling back.

  “That’s why you love it,” I whisper back, and kiss her neck, then lick her behind one ear. “That’s why you loved what I did to you last night. You know, when I fingered your ass.”

  “It was wrong, Conor,” Carrie hisses again, but the conviction has gone out of her voice. Her hands are on my buckle now, and I know she’s in my power.

  “It was disgusting and wrong,” she mewls, but her fingers are pulling desperately at my zipper, and she pulls it down, letting my rock hard boner spring free from its confines. I groan as she folds her soft hand around its hardness, jerking it towards her. My hands rush at her dress, bunching it up just high enough to expose her pussy. I wrench her panties to the side, tearing them and not caring that our parents are in the other room. Because this woman means the world to me … and I’m not going to stop until I get her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carrie

  I don’t know what came first; the huge hardness of his cock pushing into the wet tightness of my cunt, or his hands reaching around to cup my ass and lift me onto the counter. It all happens so fast and smooth. He gropes my ass tighter and yanks me towards him with a groan, impaling his cock to the hilt into me in one swift thrust.

  “I want you balls-deep, Carrie,” he growls into my hair, thrusting hard into my creaming twat. I suppress a moan of delight as he fills me up.

  “We have to be quiet,” I whisper hoarsely. “They could come in any minute.”

  “Don’t worry,” he growls. “This will be over soon.” And I know he’s right, as he releases one of my ass cheeks to press his thumb down on my clit as he fucks me up against the counter, rubbing at it gently. I suppress another moan, feeling my own wetness running down my thighs.

  “I’m going to make you cum, Carrie,” he groans into my ear, fucking me faster. “I’m going to make you cum so hard, and you won’t make a sound.” I lift my legs up around his waist to let him in even deeper, and moan quietly as the head of his cock rubs against a delicious spot.

  “Oh yeah, just like that,” I whisper hoarsely, allowing him to rock me back and forth along the length of his cock, making my tits sway. “Oh Conor.” I watch his eyes, full of lust, as they watch my swaying tits, and he fucks me harder, making them jiggle.

  “Shit Carrie,” he groans, a note of desperation now in his deep voice. “Just watching your tits do that can make me explode inside you.” He rubs my clit faster with his thumb, his fist grasping my soft ass like a handle.

  “Faster. Harder!” I mewl at him as
I near the brink. He fucks me forcefully, sending a plate next to me on the counter smashing to the floor, but in my rapture, I don’t care. I feel his balls lift against my ass as he continues pounding my pussy, and I know this will soon be over for him. He sinks his teeth into my tit and bites, groaning. It makes my pussy contract around his cock and he’s fucking me so hard now that I’m coming, muffling my screams with my fist. He grabs me by the shoulder and then erupts with a low growl, that cock spasming as hot juices flow into my sweetest spot. I love it all, my pussy milking him of that virile sperm as Conor utters another low moan.

  But the satisfaction is short-lived.

  Mom’s scream tears through the kitchen from the living room door and Conor and I freeze.

  “Carrie?” comes Mom’s sudden shocked outburst.

  “Conor!” is Henry’s rage-filled roar.

  I instantly sit up in the painful silence that ensues, pushing Conor away from me as I pull my dress down, trying to cover my boobs in a desperate attempt to keep my dignity. But it’s too late. Shame washes over me in waves, each one more devastating than the last. I feel my face flush from my hairline to my neck. Mom is standing in the door opening, her hands clasped to her mouth, her face pale and eyes wide in shock as she stares at my semi-naked body. I avert my eyes.