Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Doctor Read online

  Stepbrothers Stepping Out

  With His Doctor

  Delilah Devlin

  Copyright © 2016 Delilah Devlin

  Kindle Edition

  She’s in luck! The doctor’s in…

  With the ink barely dry on their D/s contract, big brother’s ready to introduce Sasha to a very special friend…

  Note: This original 5800-word short story may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!

  Check out more sexy stepbrother erotic romance:

  Stepbrothers Stepping out: With His Friends

  Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Partner

  Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Boss

  Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Professor

  Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Team

  For more short stories by Delilah Devlin, check out:

  Big Brass Buckle

  Catnip

  Dr. Mullaley’s Cure

  Dreaming by the Sea

  Drive Me Crazy

  Johnny Blaze

  How to Train Your Skjaldmaer

  Lily’s Last Stand

  Love in Bloom

  Night at the Wax Museum

  Nip-n-Tuck

  One Track Cowboy

  Pitch Black

  Red Dawn

  Tailgating at the Cedar Inn

  The Hired Hand

  The Morning Ride

  The Obedient Wife

  The Only Game in Town

  The Out-of-Towner

  The Long Ride Home

  The Pleasure in Surrender

  The Runaway Bride

  The Weekend

  Two Hot

  If you love vampires, werewolves, and things that go bump in the night, check out her NIGHT FALL series:

  Silent Is the Knight

  Sm{B}itten

  Truly, Madly…Deadly

  Knight in Transition

  Wolf in Plain Sight

  Knight Edition

  Night Fall on Dark Mountain

  And if you love Navy SEALs, be sure to read the excerpt at the end of this story!

  From the Author

  To those of you who’ve read me before—hello, friends! To new readers, welcome to my world!

  As you’ll discover, I tend to bounce around in different genres, from contemporary to historical to paranormal to sci-fi—all are very sexy, so be warned. I also write in many lengths from short story to full-length novel. If you can’t tell, I love to write. And when a story is fast, it’s short. If my characters need more pages, well, you get the picture. I’m a slave to my muses (I have three—or so three different psychics have told me!).

  I love hearing from readers and have a very active blog and Facebook friend page. I run contests, talk about my favorite TV shows, what I collect, what drives me crazy. I ramble a bit. I’m doing it right now. But if you’d like to learn more about me and what I’m doing or writing about, be sure to check out the “About Delilah Devlin” page after the story.

  And if you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a review on your favorite retail site or simply tell a friend. Readers do influence other readers. We have to trust someone to tell us whether we’ll have fun when we open a new story!

  Sincerely,

  Delilah Devlin

  Visit www.DelilahDevlin.com for more titles and release dates, and subscribe to Delilah’s newsletter at newsletter.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About the Book

  From the Author

  Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Doctor

  About Delilah Devlin

  Excerpt from Dream of Me

  Stepbrothers Stepping Out:

  With His Doctor

  ‡

  My cell phone erupted with the strains of Jason Derulo’s Want to Want Me.

  I swatted at the phone and raised it to squint at the screen. It read 8:30 AM. I swiped across it and placed it to my ear. “Jacob, do you realize how fucking early it is?”

  “Never too early for fucking.”

  By the husky timber of his voice, I knew he was close. He wouldn’t waste that tone on phone sex. “You at the door?”

  “I’m still waiting for you to buzz me up.”

  I groaned. “Waiting? I gave you a damn key.”

  “And I left it on my dresser back at my place. Come on, Sis. Buzz me up!”

  I grumbled a bit, but only for show. Fact was, I was thrilled he’d come. I rolled out of bed, ran for the foyer, and depressed the button to pop the door to the lobby of my apartment building. Then I opened my front door a crack and raced to the bathroom to brush my teeth, my hair. To slick my lips with gloss. When I finished, I jumped back into bed and pretended to be sleeping again when I heard my front door close.

  Footsteps drew near. A sigh, overloud and dramatic, sounded above me a second before a pop landed on my ass.

  I pushed up and gave him a glare. “What was that for?”

  “You didn’t strip,” he said, eyeing my fuzzy pajama set.

  “Do you think I lie around naked all the time, just on the off-chance you’ll drop by?”

  His gaze narrowed. “I buzzed you. You had time. And you know the rules.”

  “And I told you—you’re not the boss of me.”

  Before I could even pout, he was on me, his hands banding my wrists, his knees pushing between my thighs. And I instantly regretted the fact there was a fluffy cushion and his clothing between us. All that tense muscle flattened my breasts and kept my breaths shallow. The hard bulge at the front of his jeans jutted against my mound.

  “Who’s the boss, now, huh?” he whispered, his mouth an inch from mine.

  My lower lip still couldn’t manage to protrude, but I tilted my chin. “Prove it.”

  His mouth twitched. His brows lowered. “The last time you disobeyed, I told you what your punishment would be…”

  My heart double-timed, thudding faster and faster. Moisture gathered between my legs. “Still not the boss,” I whispered, because his weight and my excitement made it impossible to breathe deeply enough to whine.

  He moved so fast all I could do gasp as he rolled away, tore my fluffy top upward and tugged my bottoms downward. As soon as I was naked, he sat on the edge of my bed and hauled me over his knees.

  Maybe I’d been too quick to provoke. The thought of a spanking had added spice to my nightly fantasies, but the actuality was proving scarier. I pushed upward, but he dug an elbow into my upper back and cupped my pussy with a hand.

  Not what I expected, which made me grow still.

  A finger entered me and swirled. “You’re wet.”

  I heard him sigh a moment before he withdrew his thick digit.

  “You think this is just foreplay, fun and games before we fuck, don’t you?”

  Of course, I did. But he was using that voice. The hard, controlled one he used when we “played”. I bit my lip to stop from answering, because now, I knew my answer would determine whether we fucked at all.

  “You said you wanted to be mine, Sasha.”

  “I do.”

  “You signed a contract.”

  Puh-leeze! That stupid contract, again? “I did. But only because you said we wouldn’t fuck again if I didn’t.” I cringed, because I knew that was the wrong thing to say when he was being all Dommy.

  “Remember that list I had you draw up, the one outlining everything you said you were willing to let me do?”

  “Y-yesss?” The list had been filled with my fantasies, and some of his suggestions for things I’d never believed he’d actually want. Still, I’d signed it. Fair was fair, I supposed. In the end, he’d have to
give me pleasure. He’d signed the contract, too, and I’d been very vocal about that stipulation.

  Jacob grunted. “I’m talking about the one I added because I knew you’d have trouble adjusting to my rules.”

  I tried to remember the exact wording I’d scribbled while he’d been fucking me from behind. Hardly fair, that, because I’d been willing to write anything down I’d been so ready to come.

  Spankings, with a hand or a flogger, will be for punishment, not for pleasure. They will be followed by a period of introspection.

  My eyes widened. “I know what I wrote, but I didn’t mean it.”

  “Too late. You signed. If you want out, want to break the contract, all you have to do is say so, Sash.”

  But that would mean forfeiting everything else he’d promised—me being his sub; his being my Dom. And I knew he liked the structure of that kind of relationship. He’d been with Erika for three years, never straying, until she’d decided to break their agreement. That had been my opening. The moment I’d heard they’d broken up, I’d hot-footed it to his law firm to confront him and request that I fill that vacancy. I’d even knelt in the middle of his office with my head bent, something that damn near killed me, because the last thing that came natural to me was submission to a man.

  And he’d known. He’d eyed me from his chair, a dark brow arching. “You’re applying for the position? It’s not a job, baby girl.”

  I hated it when he called me that. He’d used that endearment as a challenge from the minute we’d met at dinner at Bienvenuto’s when our parents had announced they’d be marrying and we’d be siblings. Of course, my reaction had cemented the nickname. I’d stuck out my tongue. Twelve years old and breasts budding, I’d stuck out my tongue like a…baby.

  But that morning, kneeling on the floor, I’d managed not to bristle at the term. To reward me, or perhaps to test me, he’d pushed back his chair, pointed to the space beneath his desk, and waited as I’d crawled between his legs. I’d given him a blow job, careful to be quiet when he’d taken a call, but not stopping until he’d made me swallow every drop of his come.

  That night, he’d drawn up the contract.

  “Are you refusing your punishment?”

  His sexy drawl pulled me back to my present dilemma. “I’m sorry, Jacob.”

  He pinched my outer folds.

  “Sir, I’m sorry.”

  “Too late for apologies. I need you to obey without thought, baby girl.”

  I wanted to complain, to tell him to stuff his rules where the sun didn’t shine, but then, he’d never stuff me again. “Well, I’m sorry. And I signed the damn paper. So…just get it over with.”

  His chuckle didn’t hold an ounce of humor. “Then let’s get started.”

  I held my breath and went rigid.

  I’d always thought of spankings as sexy—yes, foreplay. But this was anything but sexy. It hurt. But I kept my complaints to myself, wincing and biting my lip to keep from crying out as he slapped my ass. One cheek, then the other, until both were so hot and tender I knew I’d have trouble, even sitting on a pillow.

  But then, something happened along the way while I gasped and jerked. My sex grew wetter and wetter, moisture dripping into my pubic hair and into the creases between my swelling lips and thighs.

  When he smacked the center of my buttocks, I couldn’t help it, I raised them, hoping the next would land on my pussy. Which it did. I cried out as a ripple of ecstasy moved up and down my channel. Another slap landed there. Then another. And I came hard. “Yes!”

  His hand stilled, cupping my folds.

  But I didn’t dare beg him to continue. It was enough his palm soothed the ache. Probably giving me more than he’d intended. Pleasure.

  After a moment, he removed his hand and straightened—my cue to move off his lap. I slid to the floor and assumed the position with my head bowed and my hands flat against my thighs.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  Was his question rhetorical? He hadn’t exactly given me permission to speak, so I remained silent.

  He stood, his legs braced apart. For so long, I couldn’t resist and slowly looked upward.

  His granite expression eased a bit. “I love the way you look right now, Sash. Your face flushed. Your eyes soft. And your mouth—” His inward breath was sharp. Quickly, he opened his belt, drew down his zipper, and freed his cock. “I have twenty minutes before I have to be in court.”

  And without a spoken request being issued, I gave him the thing his dark gaze demanded. I wrapped my hands around the base of his thick cock and took him into my mouth.

  *

  Work that day was pure torture. My bottom was sore, something that kept my sensual awareness peaked throughout the day. Every time I sat or rose, I was reminded of the way Jacob had taken charge.

  Truthfully, the spanking hadn’t been all that harsh, but the tenderness that remained was seductive in itself. He’d punished me. I’d allowed him to punish me. And, after the initial shock of what he was doing, I’d enjoyed it. Hell, he’d brought me to orgasm with his loving slaps. And loving they were.

  His requirement that I suck him off afterward had been a calculated move as well. How had he known that the act of giving him pleasure—the repetitive movements, the warmth of his cock filling my mouth—would prove soothing to my shattered mind? How had he predicted the effect on me? Did he really know me that well?

  Since arriving at the restaurant for work, I’d been going through the motions, every thought locked on our time together and our shared history, both as step-siblings and as lovers. Looking back, I could see now that our present relationship had deep roots.

  I’d always been prickly around him—resentful of the attention my mother gave him, oversensitive to his every mood and word. When he grew tired of my actions, he made sure there were consequences. I’d spied on him and his girlfriend making out in his bedroom. He’d come that night to tell me I didn’t have to spy, and then opened his pants and forced my hand around him—telling me if I was curious, there were ways to satisfy it without intruding on his privacy.

  That first time I’d held his cock, which was thick and long, and jutting strangely from his groin—but which also felt warm and responded intriguingly to the tightening of my fingers—I’d realized there was power in my touch. And that he had the power to do far more than annoy me. After that, I’d brought him my questions.

  “Why does my vagina get wet when you look at my boobs?”

  “Are my breasts bigger than Caro’s?”

  Of course, I’d had to show him what was wet… had made him feel my boobs to compare sizes.

  At first, he’d given me crooked smiles and chased me from his room, but after a time, he’d indulged my curiosity, and so much more.

  When I’d cried because Denny Mills dumped me when I wouldn’t put out, he’d told me there were ways other than fucking, which I was reluctant to try, to give and receive pleasure.

  While our parents had spent the evening at a party, he’d shown me, using his mouth and fingers, and given me my very first orgasm. Every time I needed him to soothe away my tears or frustrations, he was there. Ready and willing. Never pressing me to reciprocate. Always, afterward, he’d hold me, tell me what a good girl I was, and although I’d never told him, I’d liked his praise almost as much as what he’d taught me.

  When I’d asked how I might pleasure a boy without fucking, he’d taught me that as well.

  The phone rang at my desk in the back office, and I answered.

  “How are you today?”

  He was using “the voice.” Heat flushed my cheeks and quickened the pulse between my legs. “Sore.” I wrinkled my nose, knowing he couldn’t see my expression. A rebellion only I could enjoy.

  “Have you thought about why I had to do it?”

  I knew he could hear my swift inhalation, but he waited for my response. “Because I didn’t follow the rules?”

  “No, I spanked you because you d
eliberately flaunted the rules. You begged me to do it.”

  “I never did that.”

  “Your actions spoke otherwise.”

  Since I was feeling warm and nostalgic, I gave him satisfaction. “I was testing you,” I said in a small voice.

  “Do you know why?”

  I shrugged. “Because I wanted you to spank me?”

  “No, baby girl, you wanted me to take charge. You needed me to show you who was master.”

  That word. Why it made me hot, I wasn’t certain. He’d never asked me to call him that, but I knew instinctively he wanted to hear it. “All right,” I said softly. “I wanted you to…master me.”

  His chuckle, this time, was filled with humor. “Was that so hard?”

  “No, but your hand was.”

  “Too hard?”

  “I came. I guess not.”

  “Good. You’re learning.” Silence descended for a long moment. Then, “Are you ready for your next lesson?”

  I squirmed in my chair because my pussy was getting hot, and I couldn’t relieve the desire blossoming inside me. “What do you want to teach me, Sir?”

  “Damn, Sash.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight. Wear your raincoat, sensible shoes.”

  My heartbeat went staccato. “Nothing else?”

  “Do as I say.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I’ll know you don’t really want to learn.”

  “Jacob?”

  “Yes, baby girl?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  *

  Of course, he hadn’t told me what time he would call, but I figured it was part of the lesson—patience. I knelt in my coat until my knees ached. The moment I heard the snick of the lock, I looked downward. My body quivered as I watched his shoes enter my vision.

  He tucked a finger under my chin and lifted my face.

  His appearance struck me like a lightning bolt, shivering through me. I’d always known he was handsome, that women flocked to him, but tonight, he was downright beautiful. His dark, wavy hair was cut close to his head. His well-defined brows above grass-green eyes would have made my knees weak, if I wasn’t already kneeling. But his smile did me in—one-sided, stretching his sexy, firm lips…