Free Stepbrother Studs Quinn by Selena Kitt Page B

isn’t about us.”
    I swallowed. The slow elevator dinged as it passed the fourth floor. “Quinn, we’ve talked about this before. I don’t want to fuck up what we have.”
    “What we have is each other, Viv. You and me.” His hand went to my hair, fingers sifting through the long brown strands. He gripped it tight and pulled me toward him.
    I didn’t resist even though the bell dinged again. I stood on tiptoe and placed my free hand on his shoulder. Our mouths glided together, and then he thrust his tongue inside mine. I tasted toothpaste and rum—and him—and all my want exploded. I rubbed my belly against his cock, still upright and thick inside his jeans.
    He groaned and ground himself against me while his hands roamed my ass for another ding and then another. We drew back as the doors slid open, then hand-in-hand hurried to valet parking where we asked for a taxi to take us to our tour bus, stowed in an RV park.
    Once there, we climbed into the RV, our home on wheels, our sanctuary. When the other band members traveled with us, we stuck to the back room and wrote our songs atop Quinn’s bed. This night, we headed to the back without turning on lights, glad our friends were enjoying the hotel, because we’d be alone. Completely.
    In the darkness, we undressed. I crawled across his king-sized bed and lay on the covers. I spread my legs as the mattress dipped, and guided him over me. I didn’t need light to know what he looked like, how fierce his expression would be, how thick and beautiful his cock was as it nudged my pussy, centering, then plunging inside.
    His cock crowded my walls, stretching me more than the cock I’d taken not an hour before. He stroked straight inside, not stopping until his groin met mine.
    I couldn’t believe we were here. Our bodies locked together. My pussy pulsed, clasping around him, greedily squeezing as moisture drenched my channel.
    He ground against me, his pubic hair abrading my clit. I undulated right back, needing him to be as deep and connected as two people could ever be.
    “Baby, you feel so fucking good,” he said, rubbing his cheek against mine.
    I liked the way his stubble felt against my cheek. Turning my head, I ran my lips along his jaw until he lifted his head and our mouths met.
    His kiss was gentler than I expected. Reverent, even. Surprising in its purity. Our mouths melded. The tips of our tongues tasted then lapped.
    He rose over me, bracing on his hands, and then he slowly pulled out of me.
    I moaned and tried to follow him.
    His chuckle was low and dirty.
    I smiled at the sound of it—then gasped as he stroked back inside, filling me again. I’d never been this full—stuffed with his cock. I circled my hips as he slid inside, helping him screw deep.
    He pounded into me again and again, until my head thrashed on the mattress and I grew delirious with the pleasure, melting around him.
    The inky black cloaking our indiscretion freed me to give myself to Quinn. My hands floated over his back, nails tracing the deep indention of his spine. I caressed his ass, palming both sides, urging him to move faster as he powered into me.
    I’d been fucked plenty of times—had taken what I needed—but more as a release from tension, something strenuous to blow off steam. This was different. This was magical and so much hotter than anything I’d ever experienced.
    More than knowing whose cock was drilling me, knowing it was Quinn—my brother, my best friend—made it special and deeply meaningful, at least to me.
    “Baby, I’ve never felt this way,” he whispered.
    He surprised a sob from me. I wasn’t alone, then, in thinking this was special, that this moment was somehow destined.
    Our movements grew more desperate, rougher. Arousal was a quick, steep incline, quickly conquered, and I flew free, crying out his name.
    When he’d climaxed, he tucked me against his body and held me until our breathing quieted.
    The silence stretched. I held my breath. Now that