1: So dangerously sweet
~ Evie ~
Jack grabs the TV remote, flips through a couple channels and - bam - found an erotic video.
He hit play. Screen lights up: five naked people going at it. Three guys, two girls. One girl’s on her knees on the floor, mouth full of one c**k, hand pumping the other. The second girl’s bent over the couch arm, getting railed from behind while the third guy slides his d**k past her lips. Moans are loud, echoing off the walls.
I’m curled on the other couch, novel open on my lap like I’m actually reading. Yeah, right. My eyes keep flicking to the screen. My n*****s are already tight under my top. Traitors.
Jack leans way back, legs spread wide, and just slips his hand down his pants. Starts stroking. Casual. Like it’s nothing.
He knows I’m looking. Doesn’t even pretend to hide it.
My book slides off my lap onto the cushion. I’m already turned on.
Then he glances over. Our eyes lock. Just for a second.
I flip onto my side real quick, back to the TV, pretending the couch is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. I should’ve gone to bed. Should’ve left the living room twenty minutes ago. Why am I still sitting here at 12-something in the morning?
Deep down I know why. I’ve been waiting for something like this longer than I want to admit.
I hear him get up. Footsteps. Soft. Then he’s right there, kneeling beside my couch. His hand lands on my ass. Warm. Sure. And I’m instantly soaked.
He slides that same hand up my bare thigh, slow, like he’s got all night.
I roll over and push myself up to sit.
“Jack…” My voice comes out shaky. “We can’t.”
We really, really shouldn’t.
He’s my stepbrother. Claire’s only son. I’m Dad’s only daughter. Ten years of living under the same roof and I’ve spent most of them trying to pretend he doesn’t exist... but the truth is I’m crazy about him and I crave him every day.
Especially after that one time I barged into the bathroom by accident and saw him - saw it. His d**k. Thick. Heavy. My brain short-circuited that day and never really came back online. I’ve dreamed about him, about that d**k, way too many nights.
And he’s six-three tall, stupidly handsome, built like he lives in the gym, plays pro basketball.
Now, his fingers spread wider on my thigh.
“We can’t.” I say again.
“We already are,” he whispers, voice low, rough around the edges.
And yeah… he’s right.
For years that fantasy’s just been sitting there inside me. Heavy. Quiet. Waiting.
He slides his hand right up to the edge of my shorts.
His fingers slip under the hem of my dress.
I don’t stop him.
I open my thighs wider.
Nothing underneath.
He pushes one thick finger straight inside me - deep and wet.
I’m already so soaked it just glides in, easy and smooth.
Embarrassingly wet.
That’s when I lose it.
I grab the front of his t-shirt, bunch it in my fist, and yank him down.
We kiss. Desperately.
His hands are everywhere at once. Shoving up under my top, pressing my breasts, fingers finding my n*****s and rolling them until they’re so hard. I arch up into his touch like I can’t get close enough, like I’ll die if I don’t.
“Take them off,” I whisper. My voice cracks a little. “Please, Jack… just take them off.”
He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t make me say it twice.
Fingers hook into the waistband of my shorts and he drags them down, rough, impatient. I kick them somewhere behind the couch. Then I just… open my legs. Wider. No pretending. No playing shy. Just spreading for him.
He stares.
Like, really stares.
Right between my thighs. His jaw goes slack.
“Well, damn… no wonder you’ve been so smug,” he mutters. “You’ve been sitting on this? Keeping this perfect little cunt away from me? That’s just cruel, Evie.”
I’m too desperate for him to say anything.
Then he drops. Right to his knees. Grabs my hips, yanks me forward so my ass is half hanging off the couch cushion. My legs end up slung over his shoulders like they belong there.
The first lick is slow. Flat. All the way from my entrance up to my c**t. I moan like a needy slut.
Dad and Claire are already asleep upstairs. They never come down after midnight, so we’re almost certain no one will catch us.
Jack doesn’t pause. Doesn’t ease up.
He eats me like he’s angry I kept this p***y from him all this damn time. His tongue pushing inside, then flicking fast, then sucking my c**t hard enough that my vision blurs. No shame. None.
I’ve been dying for his mouth on me since I was fifteen, since the day he and Claire moved in. Ten years of wanting. Ten years of stolen glances and locked bathroom doors and pretending I didn’t notice how his sweatshirt smelled.
He pulls back.
Stands up.
Shoves his pants and boxers down in one impatient motion.
His cock... Thick. Heavy.
I reach for him before I can think. Wrap my fingers around him. He’s burning hot. So hard it makes my mouth water.
“Fuuuck, Evie...” His voice comes out wrecked, low and gravelly, cracking at the edges. He’s staring down at my hand wrapped around him
I guide him right to my p***y.
He’s buried all the way inside.
I cry out too loud.
I think Dad will hear and come running to save me. His only daughter.
But nothing happens.
No danger.
Just Jack’s d**k turning me inside out with pleasure, making everything feel wild and amazing.
We’re step-siblings.
We’re not supposed to be doing this.
But right now, my legs hooked around his waist, his d**k so deep I can feel him in my stomach. None of that matters.
He starts f*****g me. Hard. Fast.
“You feel so f*****g good,” he growls. “This tight cunt’s been my dream for years, now I’m ruining it, Evie. Years of c*m, finally yours.”
He poured himself into me.
Hot, heavy c*m surging deep.
So dangerously sweet.
Our dreams are finally crashing into reality.
This is our first taste of forbidden love.
And I want to spread my legs for him again. Wide. Shameless. No second thoughts. Just pure, greedy need.
Then...
Someone is coming.
Clear. Deliberate.
Coming down.
Jack freezes inside me. My heart slams against my ribs.
We stare at each other, wide-eyed.
Dad’s voice, sleepy but unmistakable: “Evie? Jack? That you down there?”
Oh God...
