Slices of sin

Briella had always wanted the things she knew she shouldn’t have. Something that was considered a sin to so many, but a dream come true to her. Her second cousin, Gabriel, who was also her first kiss and crush since she was eight years old. The tension between them had always been a quiet buzzing thing, a frequency only they seemed to tune into during crowded family reunions. While their parents swiped stories about work and aging, Briella and Gabriel spent years perfecting the art of the ‘lingering look’, the kind that lasted a second too long to be friendly. Seeing him now, standing in the middle of chattering uncles and aunties, all gushing over how grown he looks, and how he looks so much like his dad. The late afternoon sun caught the sharp line of his jaw. He was definitely older now, a thick mustache nested above his lips that still held the ghost of that clumsy innocent kiss from more than a decade ago. Gabriel wasn’t just older; he was a presence personified. He wore his confidence, like a tailored suit, standing a head taller than the uncles who were currently patting his shoulder with boisterous pride. Briella watched from a distance, her fingers tracing the edge of her champagne glass. Every time he laughed, a deep sound that rumbled through the room, it felt like a physical pull. Then, as if he could feel the weight of her eyes on him from across the room, Gabriel’s gaze shifted. He didn’t break the conversation with his aunt, but his eyes locked into Briella’s. It was that look again, the one that ignored the share of family blood running through their veins. There was recognition there. History. He murmured a final word to the group and began to weave through the crowd, making his way to her. She quickly put down her glass, turned around and walked out of the room, heels clicking rhythmically against the tiled floor. She made her way to an empty room at the left side of the hall way, locking the door firmly behind her. She wasn’t in the right state of mind to face him. Briella leaned her back against the cool wood of the closed door. She pressed a hand against her chest and took a slow breath. She desperately needed to regulate her heart rate. The last time she saw him was three years ago at the last family gathering. She’d spoken to Gabriel occasionally over the years. They’d exchanged messages, checked in on each other, talked about ordinary things. So why did seeing him again make her feel as though she’d forgotten how to breathe? A knock sounded. Her eyes closed. She already knew who it was. “Brie,” his voice came from the other side of the door, muffled but unmistakable. “Open the door.” It wasn’t a request, it was a command. “Go back to the party Gabriel,” she whispered, her voice betraying her by trembling. “I’m sure they’re looking for you.” “I’m not interested in what they want,” he countered back. His voice was closer now, as if he leaned his forehead against the door. “I’m interested in why you ran away from me. Open the door.” He ordered once more. Briella reached for the handle, her hand hovering over the cold metal. She knew that opening this door meant stepping off a ledge. Still, it didn’t stop her from going ahead. Slowly, she turned the lock. The door swung open, and Gabriel was there, filling the frame. Up close, the ‘grown up’ version of him was devastatingly gorgeous. The mustache, the sharp cut of his jet black hair, and the way his black turtleneck clung on his body like a second skin, making his chest and arms more pronounced. If she ever thought he was sexy, then right now, the words to describe him haven't been drafted yet. He didn’t wait for an invitation, he stepped into the room, the scent of expensive cologne and something entirely masculine following him, and kicked the door shut behind him. “You ran.” His dark eyes scanned her face with an intensity that made her feel exposed. “I didn’t run… I was overwhelmed, it’s…it’s a lot of people.” She stammered, trying to hold on to the last shred of composure she had. Gabriel took a step closer, invading her personal space until she had her back tight against the door again. He reached out, his thumb grazing the line of her jaw, his touch searing. “It’s not the people Brie,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “It’s me… isn’t it.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned her head to the side to avoid his gaze, but he used his fingers to drag her chin back to look at him. “You don’t have to play dumb.” His thumb moved to her lip, feeling the soft pink flesh. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you again?” His eyes were dark and hungry, like a man who had been starved for far too long. “We can’t do this. We’re cousins.” Briella protested, but her body didn’t move, she just stood there, mesmerized by his touch. “Second cousins,” he corrected her in a whisper. “Now, tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t want my d**k buried deep inside you, then I’ll walk away.” His other hand trailed down her body till he got to the hem of her short silk dress. He slid his fingers up her inner thigh. “f**k. I haven’t even done all the things on my mind yet, and look how wet you are. Just admit it, you want me as bad as I want you.” He didn’t wait for her response, just used his thumb and forefinger to tease her swollen p***y. “Please,” Briella begged with her eyes closed, tiny moans erupted from her lips. She wasn’t even sure what she was begging for. She felt her body come alive under his touch, as if she was a puppet with strings pulled by an invisible force. “Please what?” He asked, his fingers picked up a pace that was anything but gentle. He used his other hand to grab her gently by the neck, steadying her up, since her knees were starting to buckle. “Please f**k me.” The words were barely out of her mouth before Gabriel’s composure fractured. The ‘polite nephew’ from the hallway was far gone, replaced by a man who had reached his breaking point. He didn’t waste another second on words. His mouth crashed against hers, a bruising longing kiss that had a mixture of lightning and tears of stifled hunger. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding and deep while his hands remained buried deep inside her thighs, his fingers now slick and working a relentless rhythmic pressure that had Briella gasping into his throat. She threw her hands around his broad shoulders in a desperate white-knuckled grip, her nails digging into the high quality fabric of his turtle neck. “I’m gonna make you c*m all over yourself with just my fingers. Then I’ll f**k you till your eyes roll back.” He whispered into her ears, and he meant every word.