VOWS OF SIN

THE WEEKEND MY STEP-DADDY'S BEST FRIEND SNAPPED. Marcus Kane had been circling Ava like a shark for three years. Ever since she turned eighteen and the innocent little princess he used to bounce on his knee became a woman with curves that made his c**k ache every time she walked into a room. He was her stepdad’s best friend, divorced, built like a man who still lifted heavy and f****d harder. She was twenty-one, home from college for the summer, and every glance she gave him felt like a dare. He told himself he would never touch her. She told herself the same. Friday evening her parents’ car rolled out of the driveway for their long weekend conference. The second the taillights vanished, the air in the house shifted to thick, electric, and dangerous. Marcus pulled up twenty minutes later, exactly as her stepdad had asked. “Just keep an eye on the place, man. Alarm’s been acting up and a storm’s coming.” He had told him He stepped out of his truck in dark jeans and a black button-down, duffel slung over one shoulder. Ava opened the door before he could knock. She wore the same oversized white T-shirt she’d had on all day, hem barely covering the bottom of her ass, no bra, no panties. She knew exactly what she was doing. Marcus’s eyes dragged down her body and back up. His jaw tightened so hard she saw the muscle jump. “Ava.” His voice came out rougher than he wanted. “Your dad said the alarm…” “I know.” She didn’t move from the doorway. “He also said you’d be staying the weekend.” She eyed him. Marcus exhaled through his nose, grip flexing on the duffel strap. “I’ll take the guest room and stay out of your way.” She stepped aside just enough for him to pass. Their arms brushed and heat shot straight to her core. She caught the scent of his cologne, it was wood and smoke and her n*****s tightened instantly against the thin cotton. Marcus noticed, but he looked away fast, jaw clenching again. “I’ll set my stuff down and check the alarm panel.” He disappeared down the hall without another word. Ava leaned back against the closed door, heart hammering. Don’t think about it, he’s off-limits. He’s Dad’s best friend. She repeated it like a mantra while her p***y throbbed. Marcus dropped his bag in the guest room and stood there gripping the dresser, breathing hard. “C’mon man she is not your type, she just a twenty-one year old school girl and your best friend’s daughter. You keep your f*****g hands to yourself.” Marcus scolded himself but his c**k was already half-hard just from that two-second brush in the doorway. He cursed under his breath and forced himself to focus on the alarm panel in the hallway. They avoided each other for the next two hours. Ava ordered pizza. They ate at opposite ends of the kitchen island, eyes on their phones, conversation limited to unnecessary things like asking if the pepperoni was okay and little talk about the weather. Every time she shifted on her stool the T-shirt rode higher. Every time Marcus glanced up his gaze snagged on the smooth line of her thigh before he yanked it away. By ten o’clock the rain was hammering the windows. Ava stood to clear plates, Marcus also stood at the same moment. They reached for the same glass and their fingers touched. They both pulled back like they’d been shocked by electricity. Ava looked up, while Marcus looked anywhere but her. The entire room was silent and just filed with their breathing. Marcus spoke up first breaking the silence. “I’m going to bed.” “Night,” she whispered, voice shaky. He turned around without responding, moving as quick as his legs could take him. He enter the guest room, locked himself inside, stripped to boxers, and lay on his back staring at the ceiling. His c**k strained against the fabric, leaking pre c*m. He refused to touch it. “She’s right down the hall. One door away, do not do this.” He told himself repeatedly. In her own room Ava paced. Her body was on fire. She could still feel the ghost of his fingers against hers. She climbed into bed, slid her hand between her legs, and bit her lip hard enough to taste blood while she circled her c**t. She came fast and quiet, Marcus’s name locked behind her teeth. Neither of them slept much that night. Saturday morning the storm was still raging. Marcus was already in the kitchen making coffee when Ava walked in wearing the same T-shirt. She hadn’t bothered with anything else. Her hair was messy from tossing all night, cheeks still flushed from the orgasm she’d given herself thinking about him. Marcus’s knuckles went white around his mug. “Morning.” “Morning.” She opened the fridge, bending over to grab juice. The shirt rode all the way up, flashing the bare curve of her ass and the shadowed line between her thighs. Marcus’s c**k jerked so hard he nearly dropped the mug. He turned away, poured her coffee without being asked, and set it on the counter with a little too much force. “Thanks,” she said softly, straightening. When she took the mug their fingers brushed again. Longer this time. Ava’s breath caught, while Marcus’s nostrils flared. “Careful,” he muttered. “Or what?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. His eyes snapped to hers, looking dark and hungry. “You don’t want to play this game, Ava.” “Maybe I do.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Marcus took one step closer. Then another. The counter pressed into her lower back, he caged her in without touching, close enough that she felt the heat rolling off his chest. “You’re my best friend’s little girl,” he growled. “I’ve known you since you were in pigtails. I am not supposed to want to bend you over this counter and f**k you until you can’t walk.” Ava’s p***y clenched so hard she had to press her thighs together. “Then why are you hard right now?” His control snapped like a dry branch. One second, he was still trying to be good. The next his mouth crashed down on hers and his hands were everywhere; gripping her ass, yanking her up onto the counter, spreading her thighs wide. Ava moaned into his kiss, legs locking around his waist instantly. The T-shirt bunched at her hips. Marcus shoved it higher, baring her completely. “f**k, you’re soaked,” he rasped against her mouth, fingers sliding through her slick folds. “Been wet for me all night, princess?” “Yes, every time I looked at you.” She rocked against his hand He pushed two thick fingers inside her without warning. Ava’s head fell back, a broken sound escaping her throat. Marcus watched her face like he was memorizing it. “So tight,” he groaned. “Been imagining this p***y for years, how it’d feel squeezing my c**k, how loud you’d scream when I finally took it.” He pumped his fingers hard and fast, thumb grinding her c**t. Ava came in under a minute, crying out, walls fluttering around him, juices dripping down his wrist onto the counter. Marcus didn’t give her time to recover. He yanked his jeans open, freed his c**k, which was thick, heavy, veins pulsing, and lined up. “Last chance, tell me to stop,” he growled. Ava looked him dead in the eye. “Don’t you dare stop.” He slammed inside her in one brutal thrust. Ava screamed. The stretch burned so perfectly her vision whited out. Marcus buried himself to the hilt, balls pressed tight against her ass, and held still for three heartbeats, letting her feel every inch. Then he f****d her. No gentleness, or slow build. He drove into her hard and deep, the wet slap of skin echoing off the kitchen tiles. The counter creaked under her. Ava’s nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt. “Marcus, oh my God…” “Take it, take every f*****g inch of the c**k you’ve been teasing for years. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Your stepdad’s best friend ruining this tight little cunt while he’s miles away.” He snarled. “Yes, yes, harder.” He gave it to her. Hips snapping, one hand gripping her throat just tight enough to make her dizzy, the other rubbing her c**t in tight circles. Ava came again, harder this time, squirting around his c**k, soaking his jeans and the floor. Marcus didn’t slow. He f****d her through it, then pulled out, flipped her around, and bent her over the counter. He slammed back in from behind, one hand fisted in her hair, the other smacking her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. “Look at you,” he panted. “Bent over like a w***e for me, dripping down your thighs. You’re gonna feel me for days, princess. Every time you sit, every time you walk, you’re gonna remember who owns this p***y now.” Ava pushed back to meet every thrust, sobbing with pleasure. “I’m yours. f**k! c*m inside me, please.” He roared, slammed deep, and erupted. Thick, hot ropes of c*m flooded her, pulse after pulse, so much it leaked out around his c**k and ran down her legs. He kept grinding, milking every drop, marking her. They stayed locked together, panting. Marcus kissed the back of her neck, soft now. “Still with me?” he murmured. Ava laughed breathlessly. “I think you broke me.” “Good.” He pulled out slowly, watching his c*m drip from her swollen p***y with dark satisfaction. Then he turned her around, kissed her slow and deep. “We’ve got the whole weekend. And I’m nowhere near done.” The rest of Saturday disappeared in a haze of filthy need. They barely made it to the living room before he had her on her knees, c**k down her throat while the storm raged outside. He f****d her face slow and deep, praising her the whole time, “Such a good girl taking every inch for me. Swallow it all, princess.” He said. Later he carried her to the guest room and spent two hours eating her p***y like a starving man with long, lazy licks, sucking her c**t until she begged, then f*****g her again missionary so he could watch her face when she came. By evening her stepdad called to check in. Marcus answered on speaker while Ava was riding him reverse cowgirl on the couch, his c**k buried so deep she could barely breathe. “Hey, man,” Marcus said, voice perfectly steady even as Ava’s hips rolled. “Yeah, the house is fine. Storm’s bad but we’re good.” Ava bit her lip hard, trying not to moan. Marcus reached around and pinched her c**t, making her shiver while her walls clamped down on him. “Yeah, Ava’s right here, and she wants to say hi,” he continued casually. He thrust up hard making Ava gasp, “Hi, Dad… everything’s… perfect.” She struggled to form a sentence. Marcus grinned darkly, f*****g her faster while her stepdad chatted about the conference. The risk made her come so hard she had to stuff her fist in her mouth to stay quiet. Marcus followed right after, filling her again while he calmly said goodbye. Sunday was even more intense. They woke tangled together. Marcus woke her with his fingers already inside her, slow and deep. “No more fighting it, you’re mine this weekend. Every hole. Every way I want.” He murmured against her ear. He f****d her in the shower, her back against the tiles, legs wrapped around his waist. Then bent her over the bathroom counter and took her ass for the first time, until she was pushing back and begging for more. They barely left the bedroom after that. He tied her wrists to the headboard with his belt and edged her for nearly an hour with his tongue, fingers, the thick head of his c**k rubbing her c**t, until she was crying and pleading. Then he f****d her so hard the bed slammed the wall, filling her twice more, once in her p***y, once painting her t**s while she rubbed his c*m into her skin like it belonged there. By the time her parents’ car pulled into the driveway Sunday night, Ava’s thighs were trembling, her p***y sore and swollen, still leaking his c*m into the tiny thong she’d slipped on just to torture herself. Marcus walked her to the front door. He kissed her one last time in a slow, deep, possessive way. “Next time your dad goes out of town, I’m staying the whole week. And I’m not pulling out once.” He whispered against her lips, Ava smiled, already counting the days until she could feel him snap again.