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.