F#ck Forbidden by Ava Jackson ♥ Release Blitz

If you can't handle two dominant brothers who want to introduce you to their filthy mouths and huge cocks, this isn't the book for you. Carry on. STEPBROTHER MASTER Three months. Three months trapped on a ranch in remote Montana with my mom’s latest husband … and his dark, brooding son. I shouldn’t care that my new stepbrother’s talent with ropes goes beyond lassoing stray cattle. I shouldn’t care that his every look says he wants me … but he’s going to fight it to the bitter end. I shouldn’t care that as the summer rolls on, my fascination overwhelms my better judgment and now I’m dying to call my stepbrother … Master. HIS PLAYTHING An ass you could bounce a quarter off of. That’s the sight that greets me of my new roommate as he f*cks a blonde on the kitchen table. That’s right before I get an eyeful of his giant cock. Cue wet panties. Oh, and did I mention he’s a Navy SEAL? One semester. That’s as long as I have to last—and then I’m gone, graduated, off into the real world. But can I survive that long without becoming … his plaything?


Loud female moans immediately struck my ears. My face flushed slightly. Had he left a porno playing or something? I'd probably have to get used to that kind of thing, if I was going to live with a dude. The moans grew louder—and sounded more real. Was there a real live woman here? Oh, shit, what if I had the wrong address? I crept further into the apartment … and finally saw my new stepbrother.
Naked as a jaybird. Fucking the daylights out of a blonde on the dining-room table.
I almost screamed and instead made a choked gasp. Nixon's head turned at the noise. Our eyes locked. I expected him to yell or freak out, maybe even laugh. But he just looked mildly surprised. Like I'd interrupted him while he was deep in a good book instead of a human being.
He pulled out and turned to face me. His partner sat up to see what the hell was going on. She looked like a Barbie doll, with large, fake breasts and a long bleach-blonde mane. Her heavily made-up eyes widened at the sight of me. But my eyes had zeroed in on Nixon's crotch—on his long, thick, throbbing erection, barely contained by the slick latex stretched tight around it.
“Hi, sis,” he said casually.
Just those two words. What the hell? My brain was exploding and my stomach was imploding and all he could say was hi, sis?A strangled squeak escaped me, and I fled down the hall like a terrified rabbit. Somehow I managed to hold onto my suitcases instead of flinging them at his face.
By sheer dumb luck, I found the empty guest room and slammed the door behind me. My face was on fire. I had acted disgusted with him, and for the most part, I was. But on another level—something more primal, clawing up from the pit of my belly—everything I'd witnessed was burned into my mind.