Stepbrother’s Secret Read online Jessa Kane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
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Her bond with nature has made her perfect for the job on the environmental committees, although it does put us in close proximity in front of an audience. Frequently. And it gets harder by the day not to pull her into my lap while others are around. To kiss her neck or call her “sweetheart.” I hate that we have to pretend to have a platonic relationship, but I appease myself by mentally repeating it’s not forever. It’s not forever.

It would be a lot harder if our secrecy was making Cate unhappy, but she is content. Patient. She’s my treasure and I don’t know what I would do without her.

My press secretary stands, signaling an end to the meeting, and I follow suit, shaking hands, smiling for pictures and promising to take a hard look at the recession’s economic impact on their industry—and I will—as soon as I’ve slaked my appetite for a certain blonde.

On my way out of the Oval Office, I catch the eye of a reporter and he salutes me, his Superman cuff links winking in the light. I nod back.

The White House is a buzz of activity and several people try to get my attention on my walk through the hall. I pride myself on being an accessible, approachable president, but not right now. I need to see her or I’m going to go insane. FaceTiming and texting isn’t enough when her skin against mine is what makes me feel whole.

I take the elevator to the residential floor, my stride hastening on the way to my room. Thankful there is no one around, I reach down and palm my stiffening cock, imagining how slick she’s going to be. How hot and horny she gets after we’ve been apart.

I enter my bedroom and lock the door behind me, crossing to my closet. Walking inside and pushing the coats to one end, so I can access the private door on the back wall. It was designed as a panic room. But I use it for much more interesting purposes.

Cate has a private residence a couple of blocks away, but that’s mainly for appearance’s sake. Her nights are spent underneath her Daddy—and that’s non-negotiable.

Daytime is more complicated, though.

There are tours taking place, interns running in circles, press around every corner. With no other option, we meet here, in the soundproof room beyond my closet where no one can find us, no one can see us and we’re free to be together.

Now, I push open the door and growl over the sight of her.

Swinging from the tire swing I attached to the ceiling. A smile on her face. Her light hair trailing out behind her. The light is low, the room mostly lit by the fairy lights we strung around the space to represent her fireflies.

God, she’s the most beautiful sight in the world. My heart slams against my jugular, a bead of sweat trickling down my spine. She’s wearing a long, flowing skirt and no shirt. No bra No shoes. The thin, leather collar.

At twenty-four, she’s still completely wild and untamed, as she should be. As free as possible while belonging heart, body and soul to her devoted stepbrother.

The President of the United States.

“You’re back,” she breathes when she spots me, leaping off the swing and taking a running jump into my arms. “I missed you so much.”

Her legs find their way around my waist, our mouths seeking each other’s hungrily and locking together. I slide a hand down the back of her skirt and knead her ass, producing a mewling sound from her sweet little mouth.

“I need you so bad, baby.”

Nodding solemnly, she slides her fingers into my hair, lithe thighs flexing around my hips. Pussy restless and hot. I can fucking feel it through my pants. “Want to play on my other swing, Daddy?”

“Yes,” I rasp, turning and carrying her to the other side of the room, where a very different kind of swing hangs from the ceiling. One with straps and harnesses and Velcro.

I’m already panting as I throw her face down onto the padded supports and yank off her skirt, wrapping the Velcro loops around her ankles. She takes hold of the dangling straps on the other end, winding them around her fists and spreading her legs. Offering me that backside. And fuck. Fuck. I have to taste her, get inside of her. I’m fumbling with my zipper and cursing, my eyes riveted on her spread ass cheeks, the shiny pink valley in between.

Cock sprung, I fall on my knees and walk forward, taking a cheek in each hand and licking worshipfully. I rake my teeth gently over her puckered asshole, tonguing it greedily, before traveling lower and finding the moisture saturating her folds. Reveling in it with the whole lower half of my face. My lips, my chin, my nose.



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