Craving my sister’s fiancé

Chapter 17

Daphne’s POV

I thrashed against the sheets for the thirtieth time, the fabric tangling around my legs like a trap. Every time I squeezed my eyes shut, my brain surged with a restless energy that made my skin itch. I just wanted to blink and find myself back home, far away from this place. But sleep remained a taunting ghost, just out of reach.

“f**k this,” I muttered kicking the duvet aside as I sat up.

The heavy downpour had faded into a rhythmic, metallic tapping against the windowpane. I looked around the room—an actor’s room. The thought felt like a fever dream; me, here, in a space that belonged to a man the whole country obsessed over. I sank back onto the pillows, staring at the shadows dancing on the ceiling.

Images of Adrian flashed behind my eyelids. It was unsettling. Usually, Stefan was the only one who could quiet the static in my head, but Adrian had managed to drown out my anxiety with a single kiss. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to force the thoughts away, but it was useless.

I grabbed my phone, the screen’s glow stinging my eyes until I opened the gallery. The sight of Stefan’s face softened the tension in my chest, but it stirred a different kind of ache lower down. A familiar, heavy warmth pooled between my thighs, and my breathing hitched.

“f**k, I’m horny,” I whispered to the empty room.

I needed a release just to quiet my mind. I slid my shorts down, leaving them in a heap on the mattress. My heart hammered against my ribs as I traced the lace edge of my panties. I closed my eyes, summoning the memory of the first time Stefan f****d me—the weight of him, the heat.

I propped my knees up, letting my legs fall wide as I rubbed against the fabric. It had been a week—seven long days of starving for him. A quiet whimper escaped me. I bit my lip hard, imagining his mouth on mine, his hands everywhere.

I discarded the lace, my fingers finally meeting my slick, swollen heat. I was drenched. I let out a shaky breath as I began to circle the sensitive peak of my c**t. Each flick sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core, making me squirm against the sheets. In my mind, it wasn't just my hand; it was Stefan. I pictured him there, his tongue tracing me, his mouth worshiping me until I couldn't breathe.

“f**k!” I moaned, my body arching off the bed as the first wave of pleasure took hold.

I plunged two fingers deep inside, mimicking the way I imagined Stefan would do it, until I struck my G-spot. My inner walls tightened instantly, a heavy heat building deep in my belly. My mind was a blur of images—Stefan’s weight on me, his c**k thrusting in and out, stretching me until I came.

I needed that relief, the feeling of being rammed until I couldn't think. The want for him was so sharp it physically ached. My whimpers grew louder as I worked my fingers faster, sliding a third finger in. A slick glow of nectar coated my hand and smeared against my thighs. My pace turned frantic; I was starving for him.

“Oh s**t! I... I’m almost there!” I gasped.

I pounded into myself so hard it stole my breath. My hips arched off the mattress and my thighs began to quake as the image of him flared in my mind. Nothing else existed—just the friction and the thought of Stefan. Then, the dam broke. My eyes snapped shut as a violent wave of pleasure crashed through me, leaving me shaking and spent against the sheets.

I let out a long, shaky moan, my chest heaving. Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door made my eyes fly open. My heart nearly stopped. I was a mess, the bed was a mess, and Adrian was right outside.

“I’m naked! Don’t come in!” I screamed, my voice cracking with panic.

“Alright then,” Adrian’s voice came through the door. “I brought you a warm glass of milk to help you sleep. I’ll leave it out here for you.”

I listened to his footsteps fade down the hallway before I scrambled out of bed. I looked down at the damp spot on the sheets—a total disaster. I rushed to the bathroom for towels and scrubbed at the fabric. It wasn't perfect, but at least my c*m was gone. After a quick wash, I cracked the door open and found the glass, covered with a coaster.

The milk was warm and soothing. As I sat on the edge of the bed drinking it, a small smile tugged at my lips—then faded. His kindness felt sudden, almost suspicious. I knew he had to be up to something. But the exhaustion finally took over, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I drifted off.

The next morning, I found a set of new clothes waiting for me. I wondered for a second how he had them—maybe they belonged to a previous hookup? The thought made my skin crawl slightly, but they were better than my dirty laundry or his oversized shirt.

When I finally stepped out, Adrian was leaning against the wall, waiting.

“I thought you were never going to come out,” he said with a smug smile. “I finished my ten-step skincare routine and still beat you.”

I scoffed, trying to find a comeback, but the words got stuck in my throat. In the morning light, he looked frustratingly handsome.

“I’ll get going now. Thanks for the shelter and the food,” I said, offering a small, grateful smile.

“You’re my assistant,” Adrian replied, his smile reaching his eyes for once. “Making sure you’re comfortable is part of the job.”

I nodded, heading toward the door. “I’m going home now.”

“Are you forgetting something, Daphne?” Adrian’s voice trailed after me. “You’re my assistant and I have a shoot today. You’re coming with me. But,” he added, seeing my expression, “I’ll drop you at your place first so your family doesn't worry.”

I couldn't really argue. It was the weekend, I didn't have classes, and I technically was on the clock. “Alright then,” I agreed.

We left the house and he drove me to my street. When he pulled up in front of my home, I hopped out, but I noticed the engine cut off. Adrian stepped out right behind me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, pausing at the gate.

“Don’t you want your mom to know exactly who you’re working for?” He gave me a playful wink. I managed a faint smile, though my nerves were starting to jitter.

He followed me inside. I pushed the front door open, ready to call out to my mom, but the words died in my throat. I froze.

There, in the middle of the living room, Stefan and Bella were wrapped around each other, locked in a deep kiss. My blood turned to ice. My hands curled into tight fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms as heat climbed up my neck.

They broke apart, breathless, and Stefan’s eyes landed on me. His face went pale, his eyes widening in shock.