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Page 29

  “I don’t want to come on --” she starts to say, but I silence her, plunging my fingers inside her, quickly and without warning. Her eyes close lightly, and she brings her hands down to grip my shoulders. I stroke her slowly, on her most sensitive place, and I can feel her body give way like she’s slowly melting. Pressing my palm firmly against her clit, I continue to stroke her, and she grinds against my hand.

  “No?” I whisper. “Tell me you don’t want to come on me. ”

  “Caulter,” she says softly.

  “Yes, Princess. ”

  “Fucking. . . stop calling. . . me that. ”

  The way she gets her words mixed up, her voice breathy, makes me even more heated. I lean close to her ear. “Then stop acting like a princess,” I say.

  Downstairs, a door opens and Senator Douchebag's voice rings out as he talks to a woman with a thick Boston accent. Katherine’s eyes fly open, and she looks at me, her expression anxious. But she still presses against my palm, and even though I pause momentarily, I resume again.

  "Caulter," she warns.

  I lean close to her, my mouth against hers, and take her bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you want to come?” I speak the words into her mouth.

  “Someone…. don’t…. ” Her pussy feels tight on my fingers as it grips them. I can't help but imagine my cock in its place.

  “Say you want me to make you come, Kate,” I tell her. “Hurry. You have a minute before someone finds you. ” As if on cue, the voices downstairs get louder, the woman giving directions like she's ordering around a couple of children.

  “I don't. . . want. . . oh, Caulter,” her words come out in gasps. She’s so close, and her face is so filled with lust for me that what I do next is almost as much torture for me as it will be for her. But I'm going to enjoy torturing her, bringing her to the edge and then denying her. I slide my fingers from between her legs, watching as her expression changes from lusty to puzzled to furious.

  “What are you doing?” she whispers. I touch my finger, slick with her juices, to her lips, and she wrinkles her face up in disgust. “Gross. ”

  "Button up your pants, Princess," I say. "You don't want mommy and daddy dearest to see you with your pants around your ass. " I open my mouth and make a show of putting my fingers that were inside her, into my mouth, licking off every last bit of her juices. She watches me, wide-eyed.

  “Shit. ” Katherine rushes to button her pants, still staring at me. Downstairs, her father calls our names. “Coming!”

  “Not anymore, you’re not, Princess,” I say, winking. “Unfortunately. ”

  “Shut up,” she barks, glaring at me. “Shit. Do I look like - you know?”

  “Like your step-brother just had his fingers inside your pussy and you're about to go sit in front of a bunch of reporters and pretend to be a perfect little family?” I grin. “Yeah. ”

  Katherine’s eyes go as big as saucers. “Don’t be crude. ”

  “Because I used the word pussy, or step-brother?" I ask.

  “Both. ” She squirms. Her face is flushed, and the rosy red color on her cheeks matches the flush that peeks out from the fabric covering her chest. I'm pleased with my work, even if all the blood in my body is still in my cock.

  "Didn't seem to bother you before," I say.

  “Katherine!” her father calls.

  “Just a minute!” She looks at me. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Are you going to wash your hands before we go?” she asks through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t think so,” I say, turning to start down the hall. I have to pull the polo shirt down, untucked, over the waistband of my khakis to even make a pretense at hiding the raging hard-on I have. At least there's no wet spot on the front of my pants. “I’d rather eat pussy for breakfast anyway. ”

  Katherine rushes forward and grabs my arm, jerking me toward her. “You’re going to smell like me,” she whispers. She’s so panicked-looking that it makes me laugh. “Go wash your fucking hands. ”

  “I would have washed my hands, before you started insisting on it,” I say. “But now I’d rather just bask in your scent during breakfast. ” I make a dramatic show of bringing my fingers up to my nostrils, inhaling deeply. “It's better than the smell of coffee in the morning. If you want, tomorrow morning you could wake me up with the real thing in bed, you know. You could straddle my face, bring your bare pussy down to my --”

  Page 30

  “I can’t believe you --” she interrupts, but I turn and walk down the stairs calmly, listening to her as she trails after me.

  “Can’t believe I what, Katherine?” I ask, pausing at the top of the stairs for a moment, but she doesn't answer.

  My mother and Senator Douchebag are downstairs waiting for us.

  “Caulter Sterling. " My mother greets me with a kiss on the cheek. She speaks softly, so that the Senator's entourage in the foyer can’t hear her. “I can’t believe you made such an effort. Thank you for not --”

  “For what, mother?” I ask innocently, as she draws away from me. “For not embarrassing you? I can’t believe you think so poorly of me. I only want you to be happy, and if that means donning a polo shirt and khakis, well I guess that’s what I have to do. ”

  Ella narrows her eyes, but smiles immediately as the Senator walks up behind her and takes her arm. He looks at me, with an expression that’s as close to approval as I’ve seen from him. “Caulter. I’m pleased to see you looking so…”

  “Normal?” I ask.

  “Appropriate,” he says.

  Katherine materializes at my side, and I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, only to have to try not to do an obvious double-take.

  Shit, I have to force myself to keep from grabbing her perfect little ass; throwing her over my shoulder; and walking right the hell out the front door with her, in front of her father and his political cronies.

  Somehow she found time in the last two minutes to ditch me and dash back to her room to change.

  Into a dress.

  Not just any dress. A white cotton sundress.

  A white cotton sundress that skims over her curves, flows over her hips and comes to a seemingly appropriate knee length that sways with her every movement and is in no way fucking appropriate at all.

  She's wearing a damn headband, for shit's sake.

  “Oh, you look lovely, Katherine,” my mother says.

  “Perfect,” the Senator agrees. Do they not see what I see? Katherine doesn't look the least bit lovely. She looks sexy. Sultry. Shit-hot.

  “The car is waiting," the Senator says.

  Katherine steps in front of me and tosses me a knowing look over her shoulder. Then she winks, innocent and seductive all at once.

  She walks in front of me, the swaying of her hips causing the dress to swish back and forth, as she totters on conservative nude heels. The entire thing is so exceedingly appropriate that it has the exact opposite effect.

  I want to bend her over in that dress and fuck her on the hood of the sedan.

  A man in a suit holds open the car door as she climbs inside. He glances at her ass and it takes everything I have not to punch him in the face. I want to carry her inside and force her to put on the pants she was wearing before, the ones that covered every inch of those gorgeous legs.

  When we're all settled in the car, Katherine and I on one side facing Ella and the Senator, Katherine pats my leg like I'm some kind of puppy. “See, dad?” she asks. “Caulter is even coming around, in his slacks and polo. ”

  I know her choice of phrase is no coincidence. I clear my throat and sit uncomfortably in the seat, trying not to think of cum while I'm sitting here in the car. I close my eyes and picture anything but Katherine naked, ignoring the compliment Senator Douchebag gives me about my conformity to his expectations.

  I make my decision in the car.

  I’m havi