The Incest

Chapter fifteen

Cora’s POV

The sunlight was way too much. Bright. Loud. Rude. I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head—except it didn’t move.

Because the “blanket” was an arm.

My brain short-circuited.

I blinked, heart stuttering when I realized my face was smashed against bare skin. Warm. Solid. The kind of solid that makes your stomach flip. Xavier’s chest. His heartbeat thudded steady under my cheek, his arm locked tight around my waist like he’d spent the night claiming me in his sleep.

Panic hit first. Then the cramps. Then the worst—heat. Low. Heavy.

I tried to slide away, careful, slow. Big mistake. His grip instantly tightened, dragging me flush against him until his whole body lined up with mine. His leg hooked around mine, his breath hot against my ear.

“Stop squirming,” he muttered, voice hoarse, sleep-rough, deeper than usual.

My pulse slammed. “Get off.”

“Not happening.” His nose brushed my hair. “You’re warm. Stay.”

I should’ve shoved him. I didn’t. My stupid body betrayed me, arching the tiniest bit when his hand slid under my hoodie, fingers splayed against my bare stomach. Heat shot through me so fast I forgot how to breathe.

“X-Xavier—” My voice cracked. Humiliating.

“Shhh.” His lips ghosted over the back of my neck, barely there, but it lit me up like fire. “You’re shaking. Let me fix it.”

He didn’t wait for permission. His mouth pressed against my throat, slow at first, then harder, teeth grazing my skin like he wanted to mark me. My breath came out in a broken gasp. My hand shot out to push him away—except it landed on his chest instead, and holy s**t, he was all muscle, burning under my palm.

“Don’t…” I whispered, weak.

He lifted his head just enough to look at me, eyes dark, intense, dangerous. “Don’t what? Touch you? Kiss you? Or make you admit you want this as bad as I do?”

My stomach flipped. My thighs clenched. I hated him. I hated me. I hated the way his hand slid higher, grazing the edge of my ribs, thumb stroking skin like he owned it.

“f**k you,” I breathed.

He smirked, and God help me, it looked sinful. “You first.”

Then his mouth crashed onto mine.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was raw, demanding, stealing every bit of air I had left. His lips bruised mine, his tongue pushing in like he’d been starving for me. And me? I broke. I kissed him back, nails digging into his shoulder, dragging him closer until there was no space, no air, just heat and want and him.

He groaned into my mouth, low and rough, like I’d just ruined him. His hips pressed forward, grinding against me, slow and deliberate. I gasped, arching up without meaning to, and he swallowed the sound like he was addicted.

“Cora…” he growled against my lips, his forehead pressing to mine, breath ragged. “Say it. Tell me you feel this.”

I shook my head, but my body betrayed me, rolling my hips back into his, desperate, needy. His hand clamped down on my thigh, dragging it higher over his hip, locking me in place.

Every nerve screamed. Every breath broke.

And God help me—I didn’t want him to stop.

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His mouth was everywhere.

Jaw, throat, collarbone—like he was trying to memorize every inch of me with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. I couldn’t even think. My brain had short-circuited the second he’d pulled my leg over his hip, and now I was nothing but sensation.

“Xavier—” I gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his back, dragging him closer even though I swore I was supposed to push him away. “S-stop—”

He froze just enough to murmur against my skin, “Say the word and I’ll stop. But don’t lie to me, Cora. Not when you’re shaking for me.”

Shit. s**t. He was right. My whole body was trembling, not from the cramps anymore but from him—his hands gripping my waist, his chest pressing mine into the mattress, his breath hot and ragged against my neck.

I bit my lip so hard it hurt, but it couldn’t smother the moan that slipped when he rolled his hips against me again, slow, grinding, deep enough that I swore sparks shot up my spine.

“Oh my God,” I choked, back arching without permission.

“Yeah,” he whispered, forehead dropping to my shoulder, voice breaking. “That’s it. Feel me.”

His hand slid under my hoodie again, higher this time, fingertips brushing the underside of my bra. My lungs stopped working. I clamped my hand over his wrist.

“No.” My voice shook. Weak. “Don’t—”

His eyes burned into mine, wild, wrecked. “I won’t. Not unless you want me to.”

He didn’t move. Just waited. Breathing hard. His chest rose and fell against me, his thumb stroking little circles into my ribs like he was begging silently.

The worst part? I didn’t move either. My grip on his wrist wasn’t pushing him away—it was holding him there. Like some pathetic part of me wanted him to cross the line.

“f**k,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Cora.” My name came out hoarse, desperate, like a prayer. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

I opened my mouth to snap back, but then his lips were on mine again—rough, fevered, stealing the words before they could form. His tongue tangled with mine, and I swore my entire body lit on fire. My hands betrayed me, sliding up his neck, into his hair, yanking him closer like I’d been starving for him all along.

He groaned—loud, raw—and the sound alone almost undid me. His hips ground harder against me, urgent now, frantic, like he couldn’t get close enough. I felt him—hard, insistent—and my whole body screamed yes even while my brain screamed run.

My breath came out in broken gasps between kisses. “We—can’t—”

“Then stop me,” he growled, biting at my lip, his voice wrecked. “Push me off, Cora. Say you don’t want this.”

But I didn’t. God help me, I couldn’t.

Instead, I rolled my hips up into his. Hard.

The noise he made was guttural, like I’d just snapped something inside him. His mouth tore from mine, burying in my throat, sucking, biting—leaving bruises I’d have to explain later, if I even cared.

“Mine,” he muttered against my skin, over and over, like he needed me to hear it. “You’re f*****g mine.”

Every word carved straight into me. I hated it. I loved it. I was drowning in it.

His mouth was fire. Everywhere. My neck, my shoulder, the edge of my jaw—he was branding me with every kiss, every bite. And the way he said “mine” over and over? Like some vow, like a curse, like he was burning it into my skin.

I couldn’t think. My body didn’t belong to me anymore—it belonged to the way he moved against me, grinding, pressing, stealing my breath like it was his to take.

“Xavier—” My voice was shredded, high and broken, nothing like me. I hated it. I hated how much I needed him, how every drag of his hips made my brain go white.

He lifted his head, eyes black, blown wide, wild like I’d never seen. His chest heaved against mine, sweat beading at his temple. “Cora, you’re killing me.”

His hand slid lower, gripping my thigh again, dragging it higher around his waist until we were tangled—locked—like he was never letting me go. He rocked into me slow, deep, his hardness pressing exactly where I was aching most. My back bowed, a raw gasp ripping out of me before I could choke it down.

“f**k,” I whimpered. I actually whimpered.

That did it. He groaned, rough and guttural, slamming his forehead to mine like he was seconds from breaking. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

His lips crushed mine again, messy, desperate, like he was trying to drown in me. His tongue tangled with mine, teeth nipping, sucking at my bottom lip until I cried out. My fingers fisted in his hair, pulling him down, closer, because I couldn’t get enough—I needed more, I hated that I needed more.

And then his hand—God—slid up, cupping me over my thin shorts, pressing just enough to make my entire body jerk like he’d electrocuted me.

“Xavier—” My nails dug into his back, half-pain, half-plea.

“Shhh.” His lips brushed my ear, voice low, wrecked. “Let me make you feel good.”

I thought I’d explode right then. My hips bucked into his hand before I could stop myself, chasing it, chasing him. He cursed, deep and broken, kissing me harder like he was losing control.

But then—he froze.

Just like that, he stilled. His lips lingered on mine, his breath ragged, his body trembling against me like he was at war with himself.

Slowly, his forehead pressed to mine again. “Cora…” His voice was hoarse, cracking. “If I don’t stop now—I won’t be able to.”

“Then don’t,” I whispered, shocking even myself.

He groaned like I’d stabbed him. His hand tightened on my thigh, his body shuddering against mine, but he pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes burned—lust, yes, but something else too. Something that ripped me wide open.

“I know,” he rasped, his thumb brushing my cheek like I was fragile. “I know you’ve never done this before. You’re a virgin, Cora.”

My chest seized. Heat rushed to my face. “Shut up—”

“I’m not saying it to shame you.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed dark, desperate. “I’m saying it because I refuse to be the guy who takes that from you just because we lost control. You’ll regret it. And I—f**k—I can’t let you regret me.”

Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. Stupid. Weak. My throat burned, my chest aching, because the worst part? He wasn’t lying.

He pressed one more kiss to my lips, slow this time, lingering like it might be the last. Then his head dropped to my shoulder, his body still shaking against mine.

“I want you so bad it’s killing me,” he whispered into my skin. “But not like this. Not when you’ll wake up tomorrow and hate me for it.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding so loud it drowned everything else.

And for the first time, I didn’t know if I hated him…or if that scared me more than anything.