SIN ON THE 28TH FLOOR

Chapter 5: The Breaking Point

Emma kicked off her heels the second she walked into her apartment, the cheap laminate floor cool under her aching feet. It was a modest one-bedroom in a decent part of town nothing like the family mansion, but it was hers. Paid for with her own salary. She poured a glass of cheap red wine and collapsed onto the couch, still in her work skirt and blouse. The scarf was long gone, the hickey on her neck now a faint purple shadow she kept touching absentmindedly.

Her phone had been blowing up. Marcus: three texts since the afternoon. *You ignoring me after I filled that p***y?* *Come over.* *I can still taste you from dinner.* She hadn’t replied. Ryan’s words from his office kept echoing too*I might need to get more involved.* The way he’d looked at her. Like he knew. Like he wanted it.

She was a mess. Horny, guilty, exhausted. The worst part was how her body reacted every time she replayed Marcus bending her over the desk. Or Ryan’s hand brushing her shoulder. She squeezed her thighs together and took another sip of wine. *This has to stop. Tomorrow I’ll talk to Marcus. Set boundaries. Tell him it was a mistake.*

A knock at the door made her jump. It was past 9 PM. She checked the peephole.

Marcus.

He stood there in a dark hoodie and jeans, looking far too casual for the storm he brought with him. Emma’s hand hovered on the lock. She should pretend she wasn’t home. Instead, she opened the door a crack.

“What are you doing here?”

He pushed inside without waiting, closing the door behind him with his foot. “You didn’t answer my texts. Figured you needed a reminder.”

Emma backed up until the back of her couch hit her thighs. “Marcus, this is my place. My space. We can’t keep”

He cut her off with a kiss. Not the teasing ones from the office. This was rough, demanding. His hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair as he walked her backward toward the bedroom. She tasted the wine on his tongue and hated how quickly she melted into it.

“You’ve been wet all day thinking about it,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t lie to me in your own apartment.”

She tried to push him away, but it was half-hearted. “Ryan suspects something. He saw the hickey. He pulled me into his office”

Marcus laughed low and dark, shoving her onto the bed. She landed on her back, skirt riding up. “Good. Let him wonder. You’re mine first.”

He stripped off his hoodie, revealing the hard lines of muscle she’d tried so hard not to stare at during family vacations. His eyes raked over her flushed cheeks, heaving chest, the way her n*****s poked through her blouse. “Look at you. Still dressed like the perfect little professional, but we both know you’re just a desperate stepsister slut underneath.”

Emma’s face burned. She should tell him to leave. Instead, when he crawled over her and pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, she arched up into him. His free hand yanked her blouse open, buttons scattering. He shoved her bra down and sucked one n****e hard, teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp.

“Marcus—f**k—”

He flipped her onto her stomach without warning, yanking her skirt up to her waist. Her ass was exposed, panties already damp. The first spank landed sharp and loud. She yelped.

“Count them,” he ordered, voice rough.

“One,” she breathed. Another smack, harder. “Two ah!”

By ten her ass stung, hot and red. She was dripping down her thighs now, shame twisting with the heat. Marcus pulled her panties aside and shoved two fingers into her p***y, pumping roughly. “So f*****g wet. You love when I treat you like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. He added a third finger, stretching her. The wet sounds filled the small bedroom.

He pulled out and spread her cheeks, spitting on her tight asshole. Emma tensed. “Wait—”

“Relax.” His thumb circled the rim, pressing lightly. Anal play was new territory, dirty and terrifying. He worked the tip of his thumb inside while his fingers returned to her c**t. The dual sensation made her moan into the pillow, hips pushing back despite herself.

“Such a good little w***e,” he praised, spanking her again while fingering both holes. “Taking your stepbrother’s fingers in your ass like you were made for it.”

The pressure built too fast. She was close, grinding against his hand, when he pulled away completely. She cried out in frustration.

Marcus stood, stripping the rest of his clothes. His c**k was thick and hard, veins standing out. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, voice hoarse.

“Recording a little souvenir.” He hit record, aiming the camera at her. “Tell the camera what you are, Emma. Loud and clear.”

She hesitated, face buried halfway in the sheets. Another hard spank made her jolt.

“I’m… I’m your filthy stepsister w***e,” she said, voice breaking.

“Louder. And look at the camera.”

Emma turned her head, eyes glassy with lust and humiliation. “I’m your filthy stepsister w***e. I let you f**k me at work. I let you c*m inside me. I love it.”

Marcus groaned in approval. He set the phone on the nightstand, still recording, and positioned himself behind her. He rubbed his c**k along her soaked slit, then pushed in deep in one thrust. The angle was brutal. She cried out, gripping the sheets as he started pounding her.

His hand wrapped around her throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make her head spin. Not cutting off air completely, but enough to remind her who was in control. “This p***y belongs to me. Say it.”

“It belongs to you,” she gasped, voice raspy under his grip. Her ass stung with every slap of his hips. The thumb returned to her asshole, pushing deeper this time while he f****d her cunt raw.

The combination sent her over the edge. She came hard, walls pulsing around him, a messy squirt soaking the sheets. Marcus didn’t slow down. He f****d her through it, choking her lightly, spanking her ass until it burned.

“Gonna fill you again,” he growled. “Then you’re going to clean my cock.”

He came with a deep groan, pumping rope after rope of hot c*m into her. When he pulled out, he flipped her over and fed his slick c**k into her mouth. She sucked obediently, tasting both of them, tears pricking her eyes from the intensity.

Marcus finally stopped the recording, breathing hard. He looked almost soft for a second, brushing hair from her face. “You’re perfect like this. Wrecked for me.”

Emma lay there, c*m leaking from her p***y, throat sore, ass throbbing. The high faded fast, leaving guilt crashing in. “This is f****d up. We’re family. And Ryan”

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, dazed.

A text from Ryan: *Emergency meeting in my office tomorrow, 8 AM sharp. Come prepared to discuss your recent… performance issues. Don’t be late.*

Marcus glanced at the screen and smirked. “Looks like your boss wants a turn at breaking you too.”

Emma stared at the message, heart sinking even as fresh heat stirred low in her belly. She was in way too deep now. And tomorrow morning, everything might come crashing down.