Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother

19

I might be a virgin, but I’m not clueless. I know what’s going to happen next, even before it does. What I don’t know is how it’s going to feel. When Cash’s cock swells in my hand, I know he’s on the brink. Cary isn’t far behind, and I clutch them harder, listening for their groans, my heart accelerating with every passing second.

“Fuck,” Cash shouts, grabbing my wrist and holding it tightly as his warm cum spills over my knuckles.

“Shit,” Cary does the same as his brother, pumping into my tightly closed fist until he’s coming and coming too.

Colt takes a little longer, letting me breathe between deeper and deeper thrusts into my mouth. He feels so hot in my mouth that I can hardly take it. I moan around him, and the vibrations cause him to grab my hair.

When he releases in my mouth, it’s like seeing a huge, strong man totally undone. I swallow, and he cries out, maybe not expecting the feeling of my throat tightening around him.

“Fuck,” Sawyer says as Colt slumps backward, clutching his now too-sensitive cock. His cheeks are flushed, and his hand has now slowed as though he doesn’t want to work himself too close. I seek out Scott, finding those dark eyes like pools of obsidian oil, watching everything. His face is expressionless, but the tick in his jaw can’t be missed.

Not knowing what he will do sends a frisson of electricity between my legs. I’m so wet there that the air licks a cool stripe through my arousal. “Can you take more?” Sawyer asks, and I nod.

“Come here.” He waits for Colt to move, then he kneels in front of me, bending to kiss me. When our tongues meet, I reach out for his cock. It’s slick across the top already and swollen beyond the point of comfort.

“Like that,” he growls against my lips, his fingers searching out my tightly drawn nipples and pinching them.

“Shit,” I mutter, the sudden sharpness of pain cutting through. My pussy aches to be filled, but how can I tell them that I need more than this and who would get to go first? I get the feeling it would be a bigger thing for them than it would be for me. That claim to my innocence would be a badge that one of them would wear for life. There’s no sharing that experience. It’s a one-time thing.

Before I get a chance to think on it anymore, Sawyer grunts and sprays his cum over my stomach.

Four down.

As I kiss Sawyer gently, his hand trembles against my face.

But there is one more man to please.

It’s Scott’s turn. No more barriers or distractions. The desperate taste of his kiss is still on my lips despite everything I’ve done with his brothers. Will it be the same if we do more? Will I like it?

I look at him again, and I’m about to tell him to come closer like I did with his twin, but before I get a chance, he leaves the room.

“Shit,” Cash mutters.

“I had a feeling that was going to happen,” Sawyer says, still panting from his release.

“What is it?” I ask.

“He’s just difficult,” Colt says. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. He’ll come around.” Stroking my hair, I blink, trying to get my head straight.

Scott just walked away. He walked away when I’m naked in front of him, waiting to make him feel good. Who the hell does he think he is?

Grabbing a discarded shirt, I wipe my skin clean and then pick up another shirt, pulling it over my arms. “I’m going after him,” I say.

“Probably best to leave him,” Cash warns. “He needs space.”

I’m on my feet, with Sawyer’s huge shirt hanging from my wrists like I’m dressed in a giant’s clothes. I don’t bother with buttons because everyone’s seen everything anyway. “I don’t think he needs space. I think he needs the opposite of space.”

“Be careful,” Cary says. “He can say hurtful things when he’s backed into a corner. He won’t spare your feelings. He’ll come out fighting and regret it tomorrow.”

“I have a thick hide,” I say, then I’m off through the door, padding down the corridor to Scott’s room. The thick, hardwood door is closed, its bronze rounded handle glinting in the low light. If he’s locked it, I doubt he’ll let me in. He’ll keep it closed as a barrier between us. But if it’s open…

Drawing in a shaky breath, I reach out. The metal is cool, and I turn it as quietly as I can, adding gentle pressure to test if it will open.

It does.

Inside, the room is pitch black. Maybe Scott didn’t come this way. Maybe he went downstairs for a glass of water or a shot of brandy, whatever he needed to cleanse his palate.

I take a hesitant step forward, eyes adjusting to the dark, searching for any sign of the man who seems intent on holding himself separate from his brothers and me. There’s a chair in the corner and, as I blink, getting more accustomed to the darkness, his form becomes apparent.

“Scott.” My voice is so breathy that I cringe, even as my heart pounds a drumbeat of nerves in the pulse at my throat.

“What do you want?”

“Why did you leave?” I take a step closer, leaving the door to swing almost closed behind me. As it does, the atmosphere in the room feels even closer.

“You don’t want me.” He says softly. “You don’t want any of this. Not really. It’s the forced proximity. It’s what happened with your home. It’s the fact that you don’t have anyone else. All of it has made you do this, but I know that you don’t really want it, and I’m not going to be a part of it.”

“You think that I’m using you?”

He shakes his head. “Not using. I think you’re just in a situation, and things might feel right, but if you still had your farm and you still had your family, you wouldn’t be walking this path.”

I grip onto the edge of the dresser as his words tighten my throat. Is he right? Am I feeling what I’m feeling because of some kind of situational fog in my brain, or is it real?

“I wouldn’t have met you if I still had my farm and my family. I wouldn’t have gotten to know you all. I wouldn’t have been in a position to overhear what Cash wants. But that doesn’t mean that this isn’t right. It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel what I feel. It just means that fate would have had me walking a different path.”

“Well, maybe I’m fate,” Scott says. “Maybe what I’m telling you will set you on a different path now. Maybe you’ll thank me in a year when you’ve found somewhere new to go.”

“You don’t want me here?”

“Not like this.”

I can see him more clearly now. His eyes seem hollowed out with tiredness and with troubles. His hands are gripping the arms of the chair too tightly, making the tendons rise under his skin. We face each other, both breathing a little too fast, stuck in a stalemate. He might think that I’m not meant to be here, but I think it’s because he’s fearful of being on this journey with me. He’s pushing because it’s safer for him if I leave. He can keep his heart locked away from the perils of disappointment and broken trust.

“I want to be here,” I say softly. “There isn’t anywhere else that I want to be.”

“Maybe that’s true, but there are other places that you’d be better off. You’ve just got to try.”

“Or maybe you need to try,” I say, taking a step closer. “Maybe you need to find your way forward.”

“I’m moving forward,” he says gruffly. “This place takes everything I have to give.”

“Really?” I’m standing directly in front of him now, between his spread legs. I square my shoulders, allowing the fabric of the shirt to part. A thin line of my naked body is revealed to him. The space between my breasts, my navel, and my pussy, and he can’t help himself. Those inky eyes drop downward, taking everything in with enough intensity to scald.

“Don’t,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Don’t what?” I say innocently, widening my stance just a little. His chest heaves with a sharp inhale of breath.

“You don’t want to mess with me, Melanie. You deserve much better than this. Take yourself back to your room, and tomorrow, I’ll help you pack, and I’ll give you enough money to set you on your way. I’ll give you a get-out, and you’ll take it because none of this is real.”

A get-out. Money. He’s serious, and it hurts my heart.

I don’t want his money. I don’t want to be free to leave. I want these five hard ranchers to hold me tight and never let me go. How do I make this stubborn, wounded man see that?

“I don’t want your money, Scott. I don’t want you to help me pack. I don’t want to leave. This is where I want to be. I want to be with your brothers, and I want you.”

I bend, resting my hand on his thigh and his whips out, grasping my wrist tightly. “You’re too sweet, Melanie. Too innocent. You can’t know what this means, and when you finally wake up to it, you’ll be filled with regret.”

“I’m twenty-four years old, Scott. My momma was married and had me at my age. I’m old enough and clever enough to know my own mind, but you…you’re hiding behind your words. You’re scared to let anyone close to you, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to be here, and you can push me away. You can tell me to leave. You can ignore me and snub me and fight me all the way, but I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips crash into mine like a tsunami wave smashing into a rocky cliff face. Our teeth clink, and my eyes sting as his hand grasps my hair. His eyes are open as he breathes hard and out of control, trying to hold himself back. “This is wrong,” he hisses, but my hands don’t agree. They find his face and hold him tenderly. They stroke into the velvet of his close-cropped hair, and his eyelids droop.

“It’s not wrong, Scott,” I whisper against his lips. “It’s fate.”

The groan that fills the air doesn’t sound human. It’s wrenching and heartbreaking. It’s about pain and release and surrender, and then he’s pulling me onto his lap until I’m straddling him and pushing his face into my chest. His breath is so hot against my skin, his fingers bruising the flesh of my hips. “Why won’t you listen?” he says.

“I did listen,” I say. “But I don’t agree.”

And neither, it seems, does Scott’s body. My pussy is mashed against his jeans, and there is a very hard, very obvious erection beneath the work-worn fabric. His mind and mouth are saying one thing, but his body is saying something very different.

The urge to grind against him is primal, and when I do, he groans again. “Why did you have to be this way?” he asks. “Why couldn’t you have been like your friend Amber? If you were like her, I would have been able to resist you. I would have had conviction.”

His face turns, mouth drifting a warm path to my nipple. His tongue licks out, rough and hot, and I arch my back. Oh God, that feels so good. Then in a flash, he’s standing, gripping me underneath my thighs, stalking us both to the bed.

“You smell like my brother,” he says as my back hits his comforter. Shoving the shirt off my shoulders, he kneels between my legs, gazing down at me spread out before him.

“I smell like all your brothers,” I say, watching his eyelids lower slowly in response. “I can make you feel good too,” I say.

“Can you?” His lips twitch as though I’ve amused him. It feels patronizing, but I ignore it because I know all of his defense mechanisms now, and I’m not taking any of them to heart.

“I can.” Reaching out, I reach into the waistband of his jeans, and he closes his eyes as soon as my hand wraps around his rigid cock. It kicks in my hands as though it’s been waiting for contact for too long. “Do you want me to suck it?” I ask. When he shakes his head, I stroke him up and down gently, then harder, loving how his hips shift, pumping him into my palm. But it’s not enough for me. I want more.

The sensation of him between my legs is still fresh. The press of his cock against my clit was too good to forget. Shifting, I raise my hips so that I direct the head of his cock through my slippery pussy. His eyes flash open, meeting mine. “What are you doing?”

“It feels good,” I say, blushing.

“You don’t want that from me,” he says breathlessly.

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because of the way I am. Because I’ve made your life difficult while all of my brothers have been welcoming and kind.”

“I want it,” I say softly, leaning up to kiss his lips, cupping his face in my palm tenderly.

His eyes close again as my words settle inside him. This whole thing is a risk. I’m pretty certain that I could push too hard too fast, and he’ll be on his feet, denying how he feels all over again. But if I don’t, there’s a risk that this won’t be enough to pull him into the group. He’ll always be on the outside, taking a place behind his brothers.

Shifting, I bring the head of his cock to my entrance, rolling my eyes as it notches there, already pressing against nerves that feel better than anything, ever.

“Shit,” he mutters, grabbing my hand that is wrapped around his cock and holding everything still. Shifting again, I push upward, trying to get him just a little inside me. There must be a point where he’ll be too deep to want to let me go. “You’re a virgin,” he whispers, gazing down at me with wide eyes. “This would be your first time. It shouldn’t be me.”

“I want it to be,” I tell him. “I want this if you want it too.”

“Of course I want it,” he growls. “I want it so bad it’s taking every ounce of strength that I have not to push deep inside you right now.”

“Do it,” I whisper. “Don’t hold back.”

His eyes drift closed again, and he inhales deeply. What happens next is about me surrendering my body, but it’s also about Scott surrendering something profound. His belief that this isn’t right. His belief that women will hurt him, no matter who they are. I want him to surrender both of those things because that will be the only way he can be happy.

All of our happiness is intertwined.

“We can wait,” he says, his hand trembling. “We can wait until you’re sure.”

“I am sure,” I say. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

A long sigh leaves his lips. It’s not a sigh of annoyance, more of resignation. It’s a release of his self-imposed restrictions, a sign that he’s hearing me, and then he’s wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. Oh God, the feeling of his weight on top of me is amazing. His shoulders are so broad and arms so big that I’m completely enveloped. He kisses me softly at first, then deeper, mesmerizing me with the press of his lips and the slide of his tongue. His hands grip onto me like he’s drowning, and maybe we both are, in a way, in each other. His big palm grazes my nipple then squeezes my breast while a groan builds in this throat. His hips grind into my pussy, the heat of his cock sliding through my folds.

I’m lost in the rhythm of it all, swamped by his masculinity and strength, overwhelmed by his tenderness and his passion.

This is right, this odd and fractious thing between us. It’s right that he’s going to be my first. As my first, his position in the group will be more solid, and his place in my heart will be firm.

Maybe I’m stupid, wanting the bad boy. It’s a cliché that I’ve read in more than one of my romance novels. The thing is, beneath every bad boy is a wounded soul. Some are redeemable, and some will break your heart. I just hope that Scott won’t be the latter.

When his cock notches at my entrance again, he pauses, gazing into my eyes. There’s a mysteriousness to him that comes with eyes so dark that it’s impossible to separate his iris from his pupil. His tan skin looks even deeper in the low light, and his beard and hair are inky too. There’s a flicker of a smile at his lips as I blink up at him, wide eyed. “Ready?” he asks.

He must know I am. I’m so slippery that I can feel it trickling between the cheeks of my ass. All he’ll need to do is rest his weight down on me just a little more, and he’ll be inside me.

I snatch a quick breath and nod, holding it and smiling too.

And then it’s happening.

I didn’t know it would feel like this. The physical closeness. The unbelievable intimacy of letting a man inside me. The intensity. The way his eyes are fixed on mine and the furrow between his brows as he controls everything, moving so slowly that I stretch and spread without discomfort—the emotional reality. Nothing will be the same after this. There’s no undoing what we’re doing. It’s a line in the sand, a marker between us that will always exist.

And it feels so good.

So good, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet.

“Fuck,” he mutters when it feels like he can’t push any deeper. “You’re so tight.”

My cheeks heat. We might be doing this, but I’m not sure about dirty talk. I have no idea how to reply. Thanks, seems ridiculously formal. And I think that tight is good, but maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s hurting him. I mean, he’s so big, and I’m so little down there.

I wish I knew what I was doing so I can make this good for him. I want him to remember this night as much as I do. I don’t want to just lie here while he does all of the work.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I tell him. “It feels…”

“What?”

“Good,” I say.

In a flash, his eyes soften from charcoal to melted chocolate. “Good is good.” The next kiss is just a ghost across my lips, and then he begins to move.

Nothing has prepared me for how amazing this feels. Scott rolls his hips, drawing out and moving into me fluidly, grazing my clit with every pass. Hooking an arm beneath one of my knees, he spreads me wider, gazing between us, then at my breasts as they move with his motions. I close my eyes, sliding into my fantasies, remembering what it felt like to have Cash’s tongue between my legs, how Colt tasted. I remember the pulsing of Cary’s cock in my hands and the visual of Sawyer’s cum lashing against my stomach. I open my eyes, finding Scott’s handsome face close to mine. “You’re beautiful, Melanie,” he says. “You feel so good.”

I grip onto his ass, tugging him into me with harder thrusts, letting him know that he doesn’t need to hold back. I can take him. I want him to give me everything, not some halfhearted virgin-rated sex.

“Slowly,” he says, against my ear, his warm breath and gravely tone calming me. “We don’t have to rush. We have all the time in the world. I want to make it good for you.”

Wow. Doesn’t he realize that just being this close to him is enough for me? Feeling the care in his hands and seeing the softness in his eyes and knowing how much he’s surrendering to be here with me too.

Scott kisses me then, deep, and then deeper, and I forget all my thoughts about how this should be and what I need to do, and I just am. And he just is.

And together, we’re amazing.

How many women have an orgasm on their first time?

I would guess not many, but Scott knows what he’s doing. He slides a slick finger between us, rubbing my clit in slow circles as he fucks into me with a matching rhythm, and I’m relaxed enough for my mind to follow. And oh, when I reach the pinnacle, it’s a mental and physical expansion that I’ve never felt before. He moves through it all, closing his eyes as my pussy ripples around his cock and my fingers bite into the flesh of his ass. “That’s it, baby,” he says softly as he swells inside me. I know he’s going to come, and when he does, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt. The total release, a strong man, brought to his weakest by my body. I don’t think about the fact that we’re not using any birth control until after, when he slides out of me, and his seed trickles out in a warm rush.

Cradled in his arms, I feel safe, I feel wanted, I feel whole.

But what’s going to come next, when we wake from the strange, dreamlike fantasy that this night has been to a morning back in the real world?

I don’t know how long I sleep for, but at some point in the night, I’m lifted out of Scott’s bed. “What?” I whisper, finding myself naked in Cash’s arms.

“I need you,” he says, carrying me into his room. The bed is warm, and he covers me first with his comforter and then with his body, nuzzling my neck.

“Is everything okay?” I whisper, stroking his cheek.

“It is now,” he says.

For a while, his hands roam my body, caressing my breasts, my hips, my thighs, and my ass, all the parts of me that are soft and womanly. I’m braced for him to want to the same thing as Scott, but he doesn’t go there. Instead, he falls asleep wrapped around me protectively, and I smile.

He needed me to settle into the world of dreams, and I think that’s just the sweetest thing ever.