Forbidden Desires

The Sin We Share

The house was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Too loud. Like a countdown. Like a warning.

Clara stood at the kitchen sink, her hands trembling as she washed the last dinner plate. The water was scalding, but she barely felt it. Her mind was elsewhere—on him. On the way Liam had looked at her during dinner, his dark eyes burning into her like a brand. On the way his foot had brushed against hers under the table, lingering just a second too long. On the way his voice had dropped to a murmur when he said, “You look tired, Mom. Maybe you should go to bed early.”

She knew what he meant.

And God help her, she wanted it.

The plate slipped from her fingers, shattering in the sink. Clara gasped, her heart hammering, but the sound was swallowed by the rush of water. She didn’t move to clean it up. She couldn’t. Because behind her, she heard the creak of the floorboards. The slow, deliberate footsteps.

He was coming.

Liam’s hands slid around her waist before she could turn, his chest pressing against her back. His breath was hot against her neck, his voice a low growl. “You’re nervous.”

Clara’s breath hitched. “We shouldn’t—”

“But we will,” he murmured, his lips trailing up the side of her neck. His hands slid up, cupping her breasts over her thin nightgown, his thumbs rolling over her n*****s. They hardened instantly, betraying her. “You’ve been thinking about it all day. I can smell how wet you are.”

Clara whimpered, her head falling back against his shoulder. “Liam—”

“Shh.” His teeth grazed her earlobe, and she shivered. “No one’s here. Just us.” His hand slid down, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her nightgown, his touch searing against her bare skin. “Just this.”

His fingers found her panties, already damp, and he groaned. “f**k, Mom. You’re soaked for me.” His fingers didn’t hesitate. They slid beneath the lace, parting her folds, and Clara’s knees nearly buckled. “Already ready. Always ready.”

She should stop him. She should. But the words died in her throat as his fingers circled her c**t, slow and deliberate, his touch maddening. “Liam—please—”

“Please what?” His voice was dark, teasing. “Please stop?” His fingers stilled. “Or please don’t?”

Clara’s breath came out in a rush. “Don’t.”

Liam chuckled, low and knowing. “That’s my girl.”

His fingers resumed their torturous rhythm, and Clara’s hands gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white. The water was still running, the steam rising around them, but she barely noticed. All she could feel was him—his touch, his breath, the way his c**k pressed against her ass, hard and demanding.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his lips brushing her shoulder as his fingers worked her. “You like being my dirty little secret.”

Clara moaned, her body arching into his touch. “We can’t—”

“We already are.” His fingers slid inside her, two at first, then a third, stretching her, owning her. Clara’s breath stuttered, her walls clenching around him. “f**k, Mom. You’re tight.”

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All she could do was feel—his fingers, his breath, the way her body responded to him like it was made for this. For him.

Liam didn’t let her catch her breath. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a groan. “Mmm. Sweet as always.” Then, in one swift motion, he spun her around, lifting her onto the counter. The cold marble against her bare ass was a shock, but it only heightened the heat between them.

Clara’s legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, her nightgown riding up around her hips. Liam’s eyes were dark, hungry, as he looked down at her—her flushed skin, her hardened n*****s pressing against the thin fabric, the way her lips parted, begging for him.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading her wider. “Say it.”

Clara’s breath hitched. “Liam—”

“Say it.” His voice was a command, his c**k pressing against her entrance, teasing her. “Or I’ll walk away right now.”

She whimpered, her body trembling. “I’m yours.”

Liam’s smirk was wicked. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!” The words tore from her lips, desperate, needy.

That was all he needed.

He grabbed the waistband of her panties and tore them off, the lace ripping easily beneath his strength. Clara gasped, but there was no time to react. Liam lined himself up and thrust inside her in one hard, punishing motion.

Clara cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body stretching to accommodate him. God, he was big. Too big. But she loved it. Loved the way he filled her, the way he owned her.

“f**k, Mom,” Liam groaned, his hips already snapping forward, his c**k burying deep inside her. “You feel amazing.”

Clara couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but take him—his thickness, his length, the way he hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. Her head fell back, her body arching into him, her moans filling the kitchen.

Liam didn’t hold back. He f****d her like he hated her. Like he loved her. Like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. The counter creaked beneath them, the dishes rattling in the sink as he drove into her again and again.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his lips crashing down on hers. The kiss was brutal, hungry—his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. “You like being my slut.”

Clara whimpered into his mouth, her body trembling. She did. God help her, she did.

Liam broke the kiss, his breath ragged. “Touch yourself.”

Clara’s eyes flew open, but she didn’t hesitate. Her hand slid between them, her fingers finding her c**t, and Liam groaned, his pace quickening. “That’s it. Make yourself come on my cock.”

His words sent her over the edge. Her orgasm crashed over her, her body shuddering, her walls clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her. Liam groaned, his own release following, his c**k pulsing as he spilled deep inside her.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing, the scent of s*x thick in the air. Liam rested his forehead against hers, his chest heaving. “f**k, Mom. You’re perfect.”

Clara’s heart was pounding, her body still thrumming from the aftershocks. She should feel guilty. She did feel guilty. But God, it was worth it.

Liam pulled out slowly, his c**k glistening with her arousal. Clara’s legs were jelly, her body boneless as he lifted her off the counter, setting her on her feet. She wobbled, but he caught her, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her up.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender.

Clara nodded, her cheeks burning. “We shouldn’t have—”

Liam silenced her with a kiss, slow and deep. “But we did,” he said against her lips. “And we’ll do it again.”

Clara’s breath hitched. “Liam—”

He pulled back, his smirk returning. “Tomorrow. My room. Wear the black lingerie.”

Clara’s stomach twisted, but her body thrummed at the thought. She should say no. She should. But the words wouldn’t come.

Liam kissed her again, then stepped back, tucking himself back into his sweatpants. “Now go to bed, Mom. Before Dad gets home.”