Dirty Ella: A Fairy Tale Inspired Stepbrother Romance Page 4

  “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “Goodnight, Julian.”

  “Goodnight, Ella,” I said to her, and she gave me one last warm look before disappearing into her room. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed, going into my bedroom and closing the door behind me. I seemed to lose my mind every time I was around Ella. In the moment, I didn’t think about her as my stepsister, but as a woman I wanted to touch so badly it almost hurt. I thought about Eric and how I could tell by looking at his face that he felt the same way. I hadn’t expected this when we came home for our trip, but now it seemed like I was hopelessly attracted to Ella in a way that I couldn’t help.

  I tried to shut her out of my mind when I went to sleep but I ended up dreaming about her. In my dream she was naked, spread out on my bed, her hair fanning around her face in a halo. I kissed between her breasts, down her belly and to the soft patch of curls between her legs. Her moans were vivid in my mind as I licked her pussy, which I imagined to be pretty and responsive to my every touch. I regretted it when I woke up before I made her come, wishing that at least it was something that I could experience in my dreams. It would never happen in real life, but I could relish it in my fantasies.

  6

  Eric

  Julian and I were ready for the party early, waiting downstairs for Ella to get into her dress. I felt nervous about seeing her and I didn’t know why; I had seen her in the dress before, how lovely she was, how impossible it was to stop staring at her. I had tried my best to keep my thoughts in line but when I saw her in some of those dresses, the way her body looked, that shy smile as she showed them off to us, I felt a desire so potent that it filled every part of me. I could tell that Julian felt the same way, could sense it even though he hadn’t brought it up. There had been a few times that my brother and I had been interested in the same woman, but this time it was different. This time it was our stepsister, one we barely knew from when we were children.

  Ella appeared at the top of the stairs and descended, elegant as a princess in that perfect black dress. Her hair was pinned up but a few curls fell across her forehead, framing her beautiful face in soft tendrils that made her look like an angel. She was wearing her mask, the top half of her face obscured; the black fabric brought out the color of her eyes and accentuated her lips, which were painted scarlet.

  “Ella,” Julian said.

  “Beautiful,” I breathed at the same time. She gave us a shy look as she came down the stairs, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered between us, taking in both of our bodies and our faces. I couldn’t help but grin at her.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked her. She looked slightly nervous and tense.

  “I guess,” she said. Julian led us out of the house and outside to his car. I sat in the back while Ella climbed into the front.

  “So what am I supposed to expect at this thing?” she asked.

  “Lots of booze,” I said.

  “Lots and lots of booze,” Julian agreed. “And rich people.”

  “Great,” she said sarcastically, and I could almost picture her rolling her eyes. “Rich people are my favorite.”

  I laughed. “There will be dancing.”

  “Dancing?” she asked. “I don’t—”

  “It’s easy,” I told her. “I’ll show you. All you have to do is move your body with mine.”

  “Oh,” she said. I wished then that I could see the look on her face. I wondered if she was blushing.

  We pulled up the long driveway and curved around, stopping at the valet booth and passing over the keys. Ella gazed around the room as we went inside, her eyes full of wonder as she drank everything in. I knew how overwhelmed she must feel—Julian and I had grown up wealthy, but this place was lavish even for us. The entire place was decorated in gold and royal purples, the woodwork intricately carved, each piece an individual work of art.

  “Do you like it?” I asked her.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, then turned her eyes to me, waiting for me to guide her.

  “Let’s get a drink,” I said, only then noticing that Julian had been pulled away by an old friend of ours, a woman who had been interested in him for years. I grinned over my shoulder at Julian, who had always avoided the woman at all costs, and he glared at me over her shoulder as I walked away with Ella.

  I led her to the bar and she ordered a glass of wine, which the bartender poured to the very top of the glass so that she had to sip it before she could carry it away. I ordered the same, and we went to find a table to sit at while we drank. I figured that Ella would loosen up after a couple of glasses of wine, that she might be more comfortable at the party even though she was surrounded by a bunch of wealthy strangers. More than that, I wanted her to be comfortable with me. Despite the fact that she was slowly thawing toward us, I still saw wariness in Ella’s eyes when she looked at either me or Julian. She was still thinking about the way we had treated her, about the way our mother treated her, and she didn’t trust that we meant her no harm.

  “So what’s your first impression?” I asked her, scooting closer to her at the table so that I could hear her voice. The band was playing loud, bouncy jazz music in the background that, combined with the alcohol, made me feel light and bubbly.

  “Of this party?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think it’s absurd that people spend their time doing this on a regular basis.”

  I nodded. “You’re right, it is.”

  She scoffed, giving me a dry look. “Isn’t this how you lived your life growing up? Extravagant parties, complete luxury at all times?”

  “I guess it is,” I said. “You get used to it. But that doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.”

  “I thought you two loved this life,” she said, looking into my eyes as she spoke. Our thighs were pressed together under the table and I had been trying to ignore it, but the sweet look of interest on her face was enough to make it impossible to deny that I was being affected by that small touch alone. I wanted to touch her further and hoped that she would dance with me once she finished her wine. She was halfway through her wine, her lips even redder than before, and I couldn’t help but imagine how sweet her mouth would taste if I kissed her.

  I pushed the thought back and took another drink.

  “Neither one of us liked it,” I told her. “That’s why we left.”

  “You’re lucky,” she said in a soft voice.

  “We are.”

  “Are you glad to be back?” she asked.

  “I’m glad to see you.”

  She blushed, chewing on her lip. “You don’t have to say that.”

  “I know,” I said, then stood up. “Come here and dance with me. Finish your wine first.”

  A small smile spread over her face and she seemed to consider it a moment before she downed the rest of her wine, giving her head a little shake after she swallowed. Her eyes were lively and vivid as I led her over to the dance floor, putting my hand on her waist and taking her other one in my own. We were less than an inch apart; I could feel her heat, could feel even the subtlest movements of her body. I could tell that she was squirming slightly, and all I had to do was look into her eyes to confirm what I suspected—she was affected, too, her lips parted as she looked up at my face.

  “What do I do?” she asked as I lead her in a slow dance.

  “Just follow my movements,” I said to her, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist to close the gap between our bodies. It wasn’t something I had planned to do but it had happened beyond my control. Her eyes were full of surprise as she stared at my face but she didn’t move away, instead leaning into me as I guided her body in rhythm with mine. I could feel the way her breathing had quickened when her chest pressed against mine, could feel the softness of her breasts against my body.

  “Ella,” I said in a soft voice, looking down into those gorgeous eyes. “You really are so beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed. It sounded as though she had trouble getti
ng the words out. I allowed the hand that was on her waist to travel over the curve of her hip, not thinking about what I was doing. My body seemed to be in control, and what my body wanted more than anything in that moment was to be as close to her as possible. I pulled her hips against mine so that we were completely molded together, staring at one another as we moved on the dance floor. Nobody else in the room existed in the long moments I spent dancing with Ella, and I felt distinctly like a spell had been broken when somebody put their hand on my shoulder.

  “Eric!” said a voice behind me, and my body broke apart from Ella’s as I turned to see my friend Jared. He looked over my shoulder at Ella then as if he had just noticed her.

  “Who is this?” he asked with his eyebrows raised, a lecherous grin on his face. “A new friend?”

  “This is my stepsister, Ella,” I said to him.

  “Stepsister?” he asked, looking from one of us to the other, and I knew that he had noticed how we were dancing so intimately with each other. “Wow.”

  “How are you, Jared?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “I’m good, man. Do you want to get a drink?”

  I looked over at Ella, who waved me away with an embarrassed look on her face. I was reluctant to part with her but I followed Jared over to the bar and ordered another drink, trying to stay focused on my friend and keep my stepsister out of my mind.

  7

  Ella

  I watched as Eric walked away from me with his friend, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt flustered and hot, my body heavy and swollen with arousal. I had been in a trance with Eric, trapped in his eyes, molded to his body in a way that felt natural and right. But I knew that it was neither of those things—Eric was my stepbrother, completely off-limits. I kept myself from glancing over at him and instead tried to look for a place I could get a moment alone in the quiet. I went down a hallway just off of the ballroom and tried one of the doors on the right. It was locked, so I tried the next one, which opened into a dim room that looked like a library, with bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. There was a man in there sitting at a desk, handsome in a dark way, with raven hair and eyes that were almost dark enough to match.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was just—”

  “Looking for some peace and quiet?” he asked. I nodded.

  “Come in,” he said, gesturing for me to enter. He stood up from his desk and buttoned up his suit jacket, moving to the corner of the room to pour us each a glass of wine. He handed it to me, and I held his eye, momentarily captivated by his charming smile. He sat on his desk instead of going back around, gazing down at me with a look on his face that was almost wolfish. For some reason, that look made my body flush all over again, made me shift in my seat to relieve some of the pressure between my legs.

  “Party not going well?” he asked.

  “I just needed a break,” I told him. “Thank you for letting me come in here.”

  “I’m here for the same reason. I hate these parties.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “I’m the guest of honor,” he said, picking up a glass of brown liquid from his desk and drinking it down. I tried to remember who Eric had said the party was actually for but my mind came up blank. I knew that he was rich, though—a billionaire, and a high-profile one at that.

  “You should be down there,” I said to him. I tried not to be intimidated by his status but I had been treated poorly by people like him all my life, people who thought they were better than me. “People are probably looking for you.”

  “To tell you the truth, I’d rather be up here.”

  He was staring at me, chewing on his bottom lip with a grin on his face.

  “You look a little flustered. Something on your mind?”

  I shook my head. “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Why are you asking?” I shot at him.

  “Because you look like you’re in need of assistance.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes away from his. There was an invitation on his face that was plain and simple, so unbelievably forward that it almost caught me off guard.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I said, but I felt my lips curving into a smile. The wine was making me feel loose and increasingly eager to accept his invitation. It was something that I had never done before—I’d only been with one man, a boy I used to sneak out and see in high school. Other than that, I had stayed away from them.

  He reached his hand out then, leaning forward. I was surprised when he put his hand to my cheek, tracing my lips with his thumb. I felt a powerful desire surge through me, fueled by the wine and my frustration after I’d broken apart from Eric. I parted my lips as he stroked them, taking his thumb between them and sucking on the tip.

  “Oh, you are a good girl,” he chuckled, gazing at me with eyes half-lidded with lust. “I’m getting the distinct feeling that you need to be fucked.”

  I felt my breath leave me as his fingers traced my neck, down to my shoulders, down the v between my breasts, which stopped just above my belly button. He was kneeling in front of me in the chair, his hands on my calves, stroking the backs of them up and down. Each time his hands touched the back of my knees I found myself squirming again, wishing they would slide higher up my thighs.

  “What makes you think that?” I asked him as he leaned in, his lips inches from mine.

  “You’re squirming,” he said, sucking on my bottom lip. “And that look on your face—you’re going crazy.”

  I tilted my face forward and kissed him, tasting his mouth. His tongue tasted of whiskey and spice, sweet cinnamon that made me want to devour him. He pulled back with a grin on his face.

  “Do you want me to help you?” he asked, parting my legs before I had the chance to answer. I nodded, kissing him again, too turned on and needy to resist. It was just a one-night thing, a secret, and nobody had to know.

  He stroked my thighs then, reaching up to pull my panties down and off. He pushed my dress up around my hips and pulled me roughly to the edge of the chair, lowering his face to plant a hot kiss on my pussy. I hadn’t been expecting it and was almost reluctant to let him. It felt so strange having a stranger do it, and yet the moment he started licking me any thoughts of asking him to stop went out of the window. His tongue lapped at my pussy in long strokes from the bottom to the top of my slit. When he got to my clit, he paid particular attention to it, flicking it with his tongue as I squirmed.

  “Why are you so goddamn wet already?” he asked, dipping his tongue into my pussy, spreading the moisture over my folds and lower lips so that I was slick and sensitive all over. “What happened?”

  I didn’t answer, instead moaning when he sucked on my clit. Then he pulled his face away.

  “Why were you so wound up when you came in here?” he asked, his voice soft but firm. “Tell me.”

  “I—I was dancing,” I said.

  “With who?”

  “My stepbrother,” I told him and immediately regretted it. I felt mortified immediately, but he only smiled again.

  “Dirty girl,” he growled, then buried his face in my pussy and started to lick it in quick strokes, circling around my clit but never quite touching it. “That is so filthy.”

  I blushed, but didn’t feel embarrassed once he started licking my clit in earnest. I grinded against his face, unable to stop my hips from moving upward for more pressure. His words had made me feel even hotter for some reason that I knew I would feel guilty over later, but now it only increased the pleasure I was getting from his mouth on my pussy. I started to moan loudly, and he lifted his head briefly to look at my face.

  “Quiet, princess,” he said. “We wouldn’t want anybody walking in on us.”

  I nodded, keeping my mouth shut as he started tasting me again. He slipped two fingers inside me then while he lapped at my clit, and I shuddered as I started to come. At the last second, he pulled back, and I felt my pussy throbbing with need as
I groaned. He stood up in front of me and took my hand, then led me to his desk and lifted me to sit on it. I watched as he unfastened his belt and pulled his cock out. It was long and thick and rigid, so big I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to take it. But all I could think about was feeling him inside me, so I leaned back and pressed my hips forward against the edge of the desk.

  He didn’t hesitate to fill me up with his cock then, pressing against the back of my pussy. I felt so stretched out, full and satisfied, especially as he started to grind against me. His hands were on my hips and he was holding me still as he fucked me, his strokes growing longer and harder. There was no gentleness in him, just the need to take me hard and rough.

  “How’s this?” he asked, his lips near my ear. “Is this what you wanted?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, humping him, taking his cock over and over. He pushed me down onto my back and wrapped my legs around his waist, pounding into me with his hips so that I was shaking with pleasure. Nothing had ever felt so good before. I was moaning continuously, unable to stop myself until he put his hand over my mouth to stifle my cries. His other hand found my clit and he started rubbing it with his thumb as he fucked me roughly. I came right away, squirming and writhing on his cock with a loud whimper as pleasure crashed through me.

  He pulled out then and gestured for me to get on my knees. I raised my eyebrows at him but there was a command in his face that had to be obeyed. I was still so filled with desire that it was almost hard to take, and I got down on my knees on the floor and took his cock into my mouth. I sucked on the head, circling it with my tongue before I began moving my face back and forth, sucking as much of him as I could into my mouth. I used my hand around the base, pumping it up and down until he came on the back of my tongue.

  He looked down at me then, pulling me up to my feet to kiss him. He pulled my skirt down over my hips and pushed a few strands of hair from my face.