Fight For Me

(All characters in explicit scenes are above the age of 18)

Corrie pulled into the driveway of her small, two-bedroom house to find her ex boyfriend standing by the door. She sighed and hopped out of the car, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

"You're fucking lucky my stepbrother isn't home, Antonio," she called, slamming her door and going around to the back to get the groceries she'd just bought. "He'd have shot you."

"Is that headcase even allowed to own a gun?" Antonio replied. "Why'd you change the locks on the door?"

The guts of this man. Corrie stomped towards the door with her bags.

"You don't live here anymore," she growled.

"What, so I can't come over to chat?" He said, towering over her and reeking of alcohol and unwashed clothes.

"No. When I said we were done, I meant it." Corrie said. "Leave."

He grabbed her arm, squeezing hard enough that she dropped the bags of groceries.

"Don't talk to me like that."

"Let go," she said through gritted teeth as tears sprang into her eyes.

Antonio was bigger than her, and his hand wrapped easily around her arm, his grip anything but friendly. Corrie was considering whether she should kick him in the balls or not. She knew from experience that he recovered fairly quickly and it would only enrage him.

"What happened to you?" Antonio asked. "You used to be such a nice girl."

"You mean, I never told you no," Corrie said. "Let go-"

Antonio literally flew off his feet when a broad-shouldered man appeared out of nowhere and took him by the collar, slamming him against the door.

"Matthew!" Corrie gasped.

She hadn't noticed him approaching, which meant he hadn't taken his car.

"Don't touch her," the man said, his voice deep and slightly hoarse. "Or I'll rip your arms off."

Antonio took one look at Corrie's stepbrother and knew he wasn't joking. There was a dark evil in his eyes like all he wanted was the slightest excuse to beat him into a pulp.

"We were just talking, chill," Antonio said weakly. "Let me go, man."

"Oh, like you did when she asked you?" Matthew said, tilting his head.

They were about the same height, but Matthew was stronger. He was nearly pulling Antonio off his feet but showed no signs of tiring.

"Matthew," Corrie said softly, touching his arm gently.

She cringed backward when he whipped his head around to her, glaring.

"I can't believe you got with such a piece of shit. When will you ever learn?"

The tears sprang quickly into Corrie's eyes because that wasn't a fair thing to say, but she forced them back.

"Let him go just this once. If he ever comes back again, you can do whatever you want." She wrapped her hand around his forearm.

Her fingers couldn't even go all the way around. He dropped his gaze down to her hand, considering. Finally he all but tossed Antonio to the side.

"Get out of my sight," he said.

Antonio picked himself off the floor and scurried away, tugging on his loose pants as they slipped. Corrie sighed and bent down to pick up the bags of groceries, but Matthew was already scooping them up and taking them inside. Corrie sighed and closed the front door, following him to the kitchen.

"Thanks," she said.

He cracked open a bottle of water and sipped from it wordlessly as he marched out of the kitchen to his room. Corrie bit her lip. She was itching to ask how the session with his therapist went, but she had spent over a month begging him to see one. If she got too nosy he might quit altogether. She made a quick dinner and they ate together on the patio in silence. Corrie kept fidgeting, glancing over at her stepbrother.

Her mother had married Matthew's father when Corrie was sixteen. Matthew had been a year older and they lived in totally different worlds. Carrie was an artist and spent her days alone with music in her ears and paint on her hands, while Matthew hung out with his friends any chance he got and was always into trouble of some sort. It had come as a surprise when Matthew announced he wanted to join the military.

His father thought he didn't have the discipline for it, but to their surprise, he got in and was deployed in a few short months. Now five years later he was back, and more of a stranger than ever. He wasn't cruel, but he was certainly unpleasant to be around most of the time. Corrie had invited him to stay with her and they divided the rent and expenses. It took that burden off her shoulders but replaced it with a new one; Him.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"What?" Corrie blinked.

"You're staring."

"Sorry," she said, blushing.

"Weirdo," he muttered.

"You're still calling me that?" Corrie couldn't help but smile.

"You still don't have friends and you have horrible taste in men," he said plainly.

"Okay, ouch," Corrie said. "I'm not letting you have any of the pie I made."

"No way you made it. You're a shit baker."

"For God's sake!" Corrie tossed her napkin down, annoyed. "I'm going to my room."

"Hey," he said, straightening in his seat.

"Ruin someone else's evening," she grumbled, standing up.

To get back inside she had to go past his chair. He reached for her arm but got a handful of her sweater sleeve instead. She was still going, and the shoulder of the oversized sweater fell as he tugged on it, exposing a good half of her upper torso. She froze as she felt cool air skim over the top of her right breast.

Matthew paused, his eyes taking her in. And then he said,

"You still wear that bra?"

"Jesus Christ!" Corrie nearly shouted, yanking her sweater sleeve out of his hand and pulling the shoulder back up. "What the hell, Matthew?"

"Sorry," he laughed in that choking way of his. "It's just so old."

Corrie hadn't heard him laugh even once since he got back from the military, but this was at her expense.

"It's comfortable and it's only faded," she said defensively. "I'm going to bed."

"You don't want any of that pie?"

"No. And it's your turn to do the dishes," she responded sourly, heading inside.

She changed and did her nightly routine before she hopped into bed. She read for a while before she turned off the light, hoping that she'd be able to get a decent sleep. It took her over an hour to finally drift off, and her sleep was anything but peaceful. She was shaken awake by Matthew, who was leaning over her in a pair of boxers, nothing more.

"You were screaming in your sleep," he said somberly.

Corrie sat up, shaking. Her heart was still racing and her mind was replaying the awful images of the car accident and her mother and stepfather's mangled bodies in the front seats.

"Breathe, Corrie." Matthew sat beside her and rubbed her back until her breathing calmed down.

"It's not fair," she said, her voice cracking. "I should've died too."

"Don't say that," Matthew said. "Then I wouldn't have had anyone to return to."

"I'm sorry you couldn't be there for the funeral," Corrie whimpered.

Matthew sighed and pressed her against his chest. Hearing the steady thump of his heartbeat and feeling the unusual softness in the way he held her was soothing.

"Can you sleep here with me?" She dared to ask. "I haven't been able to sleep well since the accident. I'm so tired."

"I thought you hated my guts," Matthew replied.

"I don't hate you," Corrie admitted. "You're all I have left too."

"Fine. Move over."

"Really?" Corrie looked up at him.

With only the moonlight to illuminate his face, his cheekbones were even more pronounced, lips pursed together.

"I sleep like shit too, if it's any consolation," he said. "I'm used to sleeping near others in the military. Maybe this will be better."

Corrie settled on her side, facing the wall. Matthew sighed as he got comfortable.

"I think I like your bed better. It's softer," he said.

Corrie smiled. They were quiet after that. Corrie listened to her stepbrother's breathing until it deepened. Then she too was falling asleep. When her eyes fluttered open next, it was eight in the morning, much to her astonishment. Something had woken her up.

A sleepy groan in her ear had alarm bells ringing in her head. Because for a second she had no idea who was in her bed. She tried to move but found herself trapped underneath an arm that curved possessively over her ribcage, with a hand just shy of cupping her breast. Last night came back to her and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"M-Matthew?" She whispered.

Good god, she could feel his morning wood like a hot brand against her ass. His boxers and her baggy sleeping shirt and underwear were doing a piss-poor job of providing a decent buffer between them. She squirmed, unable to check if he was still asleep thanks to the fact that she was facing the wall.

"You're so fucking tiny." His husky voice had her jerking again.

So he was awake.

"Matthew!" She hissed, her face going warm. "This is really inappropriate."

"You don't say," he quipped, nuzzling his face against her neck. "Not exactly how I expected to wake up. You were making these sounds in your sleep."

The sudden contact and the brush of his stubble caught her off-guard and she had to clamp down on her tongue to keep from moaning aloud. All that came out was a soft whine.

"I was not," she protested, grabbing his arm and trying to push it off of her.

He moved his arm not to release her, but to cup her breast instead, her hardened nipple poking between his fingers. There was no way Corrie could misunderstand that move. Easy crier as she was, she almost burst into confused tears.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked. "This is so wrong."

"And yet, if I touch you you're probably going to be very, very wet," he said, a touch of amusement coloring his voice.

"That doesn't justify anything!" She retorted. "Just stop and we can pretend this never happened."

"Or, you can pretend I'm not your stepbrother?" He suggested, shifting his hips and pressing his clothed cock against her ass.

Corrie struggled not to tilt her hips towards him. Her breathing had gotten heavier as her body eagerly responded to him.

It has been a minute since I had sex, that's why. This had nothing to do with him, she thought.

And yet, when he changed his position and she realized he'd pushed his underwear down, she found herself remaining silent. She shuddered when he lifted her leg and rubbed his cock over her clothed pussy, which was pulsing with heat and need. She couldn't deny that the fact they weren't supposed to do this turned her on even more. She grabbed the spare pillow and clutched it, trying to anchor herself and find the willpower to twist around and slap some sense into him. But all she did was clutch the pillow, floundering.

"You're so fucking pretty," Matthew said, brushing her hair out of her face, leaning into her. "I've always thought so."

Her face was flushed and her pupils were blown with lust. She wouldn't look him in the eye, choosing to stare at the wall. He pinched her nipple as if to keep her from zoning out and she gasped.

"Matthew, don't," she pleaded. "Please-ah!"

She stiffened when he thrust his hips lazily, nudging the head of his cock against her clit.

"Your panties are soaked, Corrie. You want this."

"No," she moaned.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against her shoulder, and then her left breast. She tried to push his head away, but when his lips captured her nipple, her hand dropped.

"Ah... Matthew, no. We shouldn't be doing this," she said dazedly, her eyes fluttering shut.

He ignored her, teasing her nipple through her shirt and keeping up the maddening stimulation with his cock until the tension flooded out of her body and she became putty in his hands. Once it was clear that she had completely submitted to him, he stopped.

Her eyes flew open, her mouth dropping open.

"What..."

Matthew's lips were curved into a smirk as he rolled off the bed. Corrie's eyes darted to his erection and she bit her lip. Without a word, he walked out of her room and she had to fight not to jump up and break something. She rolled over and buried her burning face into her pillow, muffling her scream.

Why the fuck did he do that?

Humiliated, she remained in her room until she heard him leave the house. Only then did she emerge and hurry to the bathroom for a cold shower. As she soaped herself up, wincing at how sensitive her body now was, she swore she'd get her revenge.

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Author's Note: Hi there. I just wanted to mention that most of the time I plan on writing more but rarely do. I'm terrible at sticking to a story and completing it. That's what happened here. I wrote this two months ago intending to write a second part, which never happened, sadly. I really enjoyed writing this though, so who knows what'll happen in the future? Either way, I hope you enjoyed reading!