Forbidden Flames

Chapter Three

His fingers were so deep. Curling. That wet squelch every time he pushed in, loud in the quiet office. Obscene. My p***y was starving for it, clenching around him like it’d die if he stopped. Dripping everywhere. Down my thighs. Onto the leather chair. The smell me, musky and sweet, mixed with his cologne, it was everywhere. My c**t was so swollen under his thumb, throbbing, begging. Every circle sent heat spiking straight through me.

“God, Marcus,” I gasped. Hips jerking up into his hand. “Don’t stop… f**k, please don’t stop.”

He groaned right against my neck. Teeth scraping skin. “So f*****g tight. Dripping all over me. Been like this the whole month, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I whimpered. Voice cracking when he added that third finger. The stretch burned so good. More wetness gushed out. Coated his hand. His wrist. I could feel it pooling under me. Warm. Sticky. Ruining everything.

His other hand stayed on my tit. Cupping. Rolling my n****e slow and firm. Pinching just enough to make me arch. Head falling back against the chair. “Look at you,” he murmured like we were just talking. Casual. “Falling apart from my fingers. Imagine my cock.”

God... that sentence. It ripped through me. Fresh flood between my legs. Walls fluttering. Aching so deep. Like my body had been waiting since that night six years ago.

It hit me then. The memory. Basement door cracked. Sixteen. Me in the shadows. Watching him f**k that girl. Her moans. Back arched. Thighs shaking. Him thrusting controlled, powerful. I stood there frozen. Hand slipping into my shorts. Rubbing fast. Biting my lip bloody to stay quiet. Came so hard imagining it was me he was filling. Me he was making scream.

And now it was real. His fingers f*****g me like that. Hitting that spot. Stars behind my eyes. “Marcus… I’m close,” I whispered. Shaking. “Please…”

He went faster. Thumb harder on my c**t. Wet sounds louder. Thighs trembling. The edge right there..

Then he stopped.

Pulled out. Wet pop. Left me empty. Clenching on nothing.

I whined pathetic, desperate. Hips lifting off the chair. “What... why?”

He stepped back. Chest heaving. Fingers shiny with me. Brought them to his mouth. Licked slow. Eyes locked on mine. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

My heart dropped. “What?”

He dragged a hand through his hair. Paced once. “This. Us. Stepsister. Intern. If anyone walks in… it’s over. Company. Your future. Everything.”

His eyes, want and guilt crashing together. Same storm I’d seen in stolen glances all month. I sat up. t**s still out. n*****s hard in the cool air. p***y throbbing empty. Dripping. But the ache went deeper now. Twisted.

“We’ve been circling this for weeks,” I said. Soft. Pleading. “The looks. The touches. The supply closet. You felt it.”

He groaned. Turned back. “Of course I f*****g felt it. That’s the problem. I’ve felt it since you were sixteen. Sneaking looks. That night in the basement, I knew you were watching.”

My breath caught. “You… knew?”

Nodded. Eyes darker. “Heard the door. Saw your shadow. And f**k, Elena it turned me on. Knowing you were there. Getting wet. I came so hard thinking of you.”

The words slammed into me. p***y clenched hard. More wetness trickling. I stood, legs shaky. Skirt still bunched. Walked to him slow. “Then why fight it now?”

“Because it’s wrong,” he said. Voice cracking. “Family. Boss. We could lose it all.”

I touched his chest. Felt his heart racing under my palm. “Or we could have it. Just today.”

He searched my face. Lust. Tenderness. “f**k, Elena…”

Pulled me in. Kissed me hard. Desperate. Tongues messy. Teeth. Hands everywhere. I tasted myself on his lips dirty, intimate. Moaned into his mouth. His c**k pressed hot against my belly through his pants.

Then knock.

Sharp. Loud.

We froze. Lips still touching. Breathing the same air.

“Mr. Hale?” Assistant. Right outside. “Investors on hold. Ready?”

His eyes went wide. Panic. My heart slammed so hard I thought it’d crack ribs. If she opened that door t**s out, skirt up, his fingers still wet from me, we were finished.

He pulled back just enough. “One minute!” Voice steady. Hands shaking.

Footsteps faded.

Door stayed locked.

He exhaled. Forehead to mine. “Too close.”

I nodded. Pulse roaring. But the fear? It only made me wetter. Fresh gush down my thighs. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Please.”

Something in him broke.

He spun me. Bent me over the desk. t**s flat against wood. Ass up. Skirt shoved higher. Panties yanked down ripped. Cool air on my soaked folds. I shivered.

“Look at you,” he growled. Fingers tracing my dripping p***y. “So wet. Aching for your stepbrother’s cock.”

“Yes,” I moaned. “f**k me. Please.”

He freed himself. Zipper. c**k out thick, veined, glistening. Rubbed along my slit. Coating himself. “Last chance,” he said. Strained. “We shouldn’t...”

“Do it,” I begged. Pushed back. “Need you inside me.”

He thrust. Deep. Hard. Filled me completely. I cried out. Walls stretching. Burn so perfect my toes curled. He groaned long, low. Hands gripping my hips.

“f**k, you’re tight,” he panted. “So perfect.”

Slow at first. Letting me feel every inch. Every slide. Desk creaking. Papers falling. Wet sounds filthy, loud. My p***y dripping around him.

Faster. Harder. One hand around to my c**t. Rubbing. “Come for me,” he growled. “Come on my cock.”

I broke. Convulsing. Walls pulsing. Gushing around him. Soaked us both. He pulled out. Came hot across my ass.

We collapsed. Sweaty. Trembling.

But the day… it wasn’t done with us yet.