With His SEAL Team, Part 4 (Stepbrothers Stepping Out Book 12)
Table of Contents
Stepbrothers Stepping Out:With His SEAL Team, Part 4
Title Page
About the Book
From the Author
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team, Part 4
About Delilah Devlin
Excerpt From Unbridled…
Stepbrothers Stepping Out
With His SEAL Team, Part 4
Delilah Devlin
Copyright © 2017 Delilah Devlin
Kindle Edition
I’m Hunter. It’s the name I was born with, and the name my SEAL buddies let me keep, due to my uncanny instinct for finding enemy combatants. I’m not an easy guy to know. Most women might give me a look, but there’s something in my eyes I’ve been told, that makes them wary about coming closer. A hint of violence that only freaks find sexy. Freaks—and Sara, my little sister. Stepsister, that is.
Note: This original 7,400-word short story may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
Check out more sexy stepbrother romances:
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Partner
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Boss
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Professor
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Friends
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Team
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Doctor
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Pack
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Rock Band
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team, Part 2
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team, Part 3
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 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 SEAL Team, Part 4
About Delilah Devlin
Excerpt From Unbridled…
Stepbrothers Stepping Out:
With His SEAL Team, Part 4
‡
I’m Hunter. It’s the name I was born with, and the name my SEAL buddies let me keep, due to my uncanny instinct for finding enemy combatants. I’m not an easy guy to know. Most women might give me a look, but there’s something in my eyes I’ve been told, that makes them wary about coming closer. A hint of violence that only freaks find sexy. Freaks—and Sara, my little sister. Stepsister, that is. Sara never seems to notice I’m a badass.
From day one, when our parents introduced us, she treated me as though I didn’t have a single hard edge and like my silences were invitations for her to speak. She was so chatty and flirty that first day, my dad had laughed his ass off, because he knew I had a certain reputation already, and she was oblivious to the danger. Blissfully so, because she couldn’t help hugging my arm and leaning into me, so happy to have a brother, she’d said, and “I can’t wait to do things with you, Hunt.”
“Hunter,” I’d ground out, not knowing how to shake off the pretty, blonde princess who wore pink from head to toe and had sparkles on her eyelids.
My dad had cleared his throat and given me a warning glare to play nice, but Sara hadn’t noticed how uncomfortable I was. Or, so I’d thought. I just hadn’t figured out how smart she really was, and how much my frowning resistance challenged her.
No, even during that first meet I’d felt a sense of doom weighing on my shoulders as she’d blinked her pink-sparkled lids and given me her wide-eyed stare. Her blue eyes had captured me, and I’d felt like I was falling. Right then, I’d felt my first stirring of arousal for the one girl who should have been completely off-limits.
However, Sara didn’t “do” boundaries. More than once, she’d flounced into my room in her undies to ask to borrow something—a pencil or a hairbrush—then root around my room, turning and bending, making sure I noticed her cute ass or how nicely her tits filled her bra.
Once, she’d even picked the bathroom lock to walk in on me while I’d jacked off. She’d paused in the doorway, then hurried inside, closing the door behind her, while I’d reached for a towel to hide my erection. She’d plopped onto the closed toilet seat and proceeded to tell me I had to let her watch or she’d tell my dad I’d “borrowed” his porn.
Sure she’d lose her nerve, I’d given her a steady glare and continued, all the way until I’d pumped come into the towel. I’d been angry, but also entranced, because while her cheeks had reddened, her nipples had poked against her T-shirt and her breaths had come faster. After that day, I stopped being shocked when she barged in to catch me nude in the shower or in my bed.
Fucking her had been inevitable. And sweeter than anything I’d ever experienced. And although I’d paraded other women in front of her, trying to do the right thing by ending her attraction—even after I’d joined the Navy and become a SEAL, with my own apartment, my separate life—I’d continued to allow her to invade my space. She’d show up at my place, smile at my girlfriends, then wait around for them to leave before doing her best to show me that she was the only girl for me.
When she couldn’t afford her apartment, I’d told her she could stay with me—until she got back on her feet. But she’s never left, and I’ve never asked her to.
Fact is, I need her. She’s my sunshine. When I come back from a mission feeling ready to shred something with my fists, she banishes the darkness. Only she can provide me sweet release from the ghosts that haunt me. She taunts me with lust and bad behavior. Teases me by flirting and fucking my friends.
She knows I like to watch her fuck. What she doesn’t know is that I don’t see them at all. Her face, her ever-changing expressions, fascinate me. Her body, to me, is perfection—supple, light gold skin stretched over tits that make me salivate and an ass that makes me hard when it twitches. Every undulating motion, every quiver and bounce, draws me deeper and deeper into lust for her. That my friends love her, too, is something I’m getting used to.
The way I see it—Sara will never be alone. If, someday, I catch a bullet or stomp on a mine, I know she’ll be devastated, but there will be three men ready to console her, look after her, and love her.
In the meantime, she’s ours to share. An arrangement that naturally progressed from me giving Sara a thrill by allowing my friends to catch glimpses of her naked, to letting them watch her being fucked by me. When I’d invited them to
her bed, I’d had reservations, worried that my bond with Sara would be strained, until I’d noted the way she looked at me when she was with them, like this was our foreplay. I love my brothers, but I made it clear from the start that whatever happened was strictly for her pleasure. They were free to play, to enjoy her company, but she’d never be theirs.
Marco, Payton, and now Harley, are all respectful of my claim. They engineer “alone time” for the two of us. Like this morning. At dawn, the three tapped on my door to tell me they were headed to the gym, and then told me which bed Sara occupied.
Marco gave a waggle of eyebrows. “She’s sleeping.”
Which meant she wasn’t, and the game was on.
As I entered Harley’s bedroom, Sara was playing ‘possum, pretending she still slept, although she knew that I knew she was faking it.
Now, I wore the smile I knew made her shiver—if she were able to turn and see it. But “little sis” wasn’t in any position to turn, or move in any direction for that matter. I’d found her nude on Harley’s mattress. Not even a sheet covering her body. She lay on her belly, her legs spread, her arms at her sides, and her face turned from the door.
Harley had left the door open, likely at her request. A tease for me. She liked setting up little seductive scenarios. Loved being caught doing something nasty. When Marco, Payton, and I were around, she went to great lengths to give us peeks of her body sure to incite us into acting.
This morning, she and I were alone in the house. So this little scene was meant for me. And I’d taken full advantage, hustling back to my bedroom to dig through my closet for the small duffel filled with items I’d collected for her pleasure.
While she “slept”, I fastened Velcro bonds around her ankles and attached them to rugged canvas bands I hooked to the bedrails, and then slowly tightened them to ease her legs farther apart. I did the same with her wrists, trying not to laugh as she’d muttered and snored, keeping up the act, although I could tell by her shortening breaths and the glaze on her pussy that she was getting very excited.
I’d had a week to hunt for just the right hardware to play out this fantasy while she’d been on a trip I’d paid for her—accompanying Harley on a special cruise for disabled vets. Although I’d urged her to go, every day she’d been gone had been an agony.
I doubted Sara knew how much I’d missed her. How I’d ached for her. No matter how many times I “cleaned my rifle”, I was left wanting. When they’d both returned, looking tanned and wearing lazy smiles, I’d ground my teeth, knowing Marco and Payton wanted a turn with her, too. I’d let them have her—even though it about killed me—because I’d seen the catlike curve of her mouth as she’d mounted Payton while he sat on the couch. I’d tensed the moment Marco came behind her, pushing away her hair to nibble on her shoulder while he’d slowly fed his cock into her ass.
When both men had begun to stroke her, Sara’s gaze had locked with mine, challenge gleaming in her baby-blue gaze. She’d driven me out of my mind—breasts bouncing, her bottom lip swelling as she bit it over and over, her back bowing as she’d come.
Yeah, I liked to watch her having sex with my best friends, but there always came a time where I had to have her to myself, to remind her who she belonged to—heart and sweet, hot pussy.
This was my turn. She was laid out. Unable to move an inch. Her stretched limbs likely beginning to feel the strain. I picked up the round bolster cushion I’d snagged from my bed and crawled onto the end of Harley’s mattress, right between her legs. I leaned over her, slid an arm beneath her hips and lifted her, then shoved the bolster beneath her. Now, the pretty curve of her ass was more pronounced and raised to just the right height for me to have a little fun. This first time was going to be all about me. She’d be disappointed, and probably pout, but I’d earned this by letting her play with her other lovers. And she expected a little punishment.
I gripped her ass cheeks and parted them, then used my thumbs to trace her crease, pausing to push both against her puckered hole.
She gasped and reburied her face against the crisp sheet, but otherwise didn’t respond. I didn’t mind her little game. I leaned over the edge of the bed and reached into the duffel again, pulling out a tube of lubricant and a middle-sized vibrating plug. I hit the switch to start the hum.
Her pussy made a wet sound as it tightened.
With no particular haste, I lubed her hole and slowly inserted the device, easing it inward, listening for the hitches in her breath as the vibe widened, then the sigh when it narrowed. Once it was lodged inside her, I set the speed on the base to the lowest setting and sat back on my haunches to admire my handiwork.
The pink folds of her nude pussy were opened. Her asshole was plugged securely, stretched around the crude black plug. The sides of her generous tits rounded outward beneath her chest. The indent of her spine down her slender back gave me pause. She looked so vulnerable. Was completely at my mercy.
I climbed over her right leg and lay down beside her. Her head was turned my way, but her eyes were still squeezed shut. I tapped her nose. “Sara, open your eyes.”
She wrinkled her nose but kept her eyes firmly shut. “Sleepy,” she lisped in the little girl voice she used for some of her phone-sex clients.
I narrowed my gaze and reached out to smooth my hand over her ass. When I lifted it, her mouth opened around a quick, short breath. She expected a slap. So instead, I thumbed the switch on the vibrator, turning it off.
One eye opened, and she glared at me.
I arched a brow then rolled away, left the bed, and went again to the bag on the floor. I felt inside for the crop I’d purchased—double-ended, one made of marabou feathers, the other a leather triangle, and with a twelve-inch handle.
I grunted as I fingered the feathers. Then turned it. Grasping the handle, I raised it and swatted her with the leather end, liking the swishing sound it made as it passed through the air, and better yet, the crisp clap it made as it raised a welt on her bottom.
“Ouch! Motherfucker, that hurt!”
I didn’t pay her complaint any attention at all as I continued to swat her ass, leaving reddened splotches of color on her creamy skin. Every pop earned me a gasp and deeper breath. Or a nasty curse. Still, moisture leaked onto the bolster beneath her hips.
After I’d popped her ten times, I returned to lie beside her, resting my head on my hand as I smoothed the feathers over her ass. “Open your eyes.”
She opened at once, giving me a hard stare. “You’re a shit.”
I considered my response. We needed to talk. Now that I had her attention, I thought maybe she’d be ready to listen rather than playing any more games. “Harley and you…” I paused, needing an answer but a little afraid to ask the question. “Things are good between you?”
Her gaze softened, and she gave a little nod.
I swatted her with the feathers. “I’ll need words.”
Her lower lip pouted. “Yes. Things are good between me and Harley.”
“He told me about the incident on the cruise ship.”
A little smile curved her plump lips. “He’s a hero, you know. Was right there when they rescued that woman from the Soldier’s Sanctuary.”
Harley’s description of the incident aboard the ship had been low key the evening before. But he was a SEAL, and even though he’d lost a leg and a hand, his three “brothers” expected he’d be right there in the mix when shit went sideways, which it had.
“It was good for him,” she whispered. “That he could help.”
I nodded. Harley had returned from the cruise a “whole” man. I’d recognized the change the moment the pair had entered the house. The set of Harley’s chin, the way he held his shoulders—they’d borne witness to the fact that his faith and pride in himself had been restored.
“You and me…” I began. “We’re still…good?”
She blinked, and small frown dented the space between her blonde brows.
“What I’m asking is whether
you need more time with him,” I muttered, not knowing how to express my doubt.
Her smile was slow. “Were you afraid I’d fall in love with him, Hunter?”
I swallowed hard and gave a curt nod.
Moisture pooled in her eyes. “The only man I’m in love with is you. It will always be you, baby.” She sniffed. “I know this is crazy. Complicated. And I know that one day, this arrangement will have to end. With them, anyway. This time, sharing with the guys, it’s been a gift. But, Hunter, you know I’ve always been yours, right?”
Relief lightened the tension in my body. We rarely spoke so honestly. I knew I didn’t invite it. Rarely said I loved her. I knew her games had begun as a way for her to force me to admit how I felt. Anger had a way of helping me express myself. Jealousy made it impossible for me to ignore her or how I felt. I brushed away the tear that escaped and tracked down the curve of her cheek. “Just so you know,” I whispered. “I missed you.”
Her smile was happy…and a little too satisfied. “I know.”
I turned the crop and smacked her again.
She bit her lip and closed her eyes, her pleasure evident in the pink flooding her cheeks. “Are we going to fuck?” she asked, again in her little girl voice.
“You still haven’t quit that damn job,” I growled, pretending anger over the fact she still refused to quit the job that had her getting strange men off to the sound of her voice.
Her eyelids fluttered open. “And spoil your fun? Everyone knows how much you like punishing me.”
Yeah, everyone did. When Sara and Harley had been away on their cruise, Payton and Marco teased me about which client Sara enjoyed most. Which she masturbated with. To my knowledge, “Daddy” hadn’t called in a while, but that didn’t mean some other creep wasn’t doing it for her. “Quit the damn job,” I gritted out.
“No,” she said, and kept her lips poised in a round O.