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“My baby sister. Naked and covered in my cum. My fucking dream come true.”

He scoops up the dribbles of cum on my chest, then motions for me to turn around. “Ass up, head down. Get used to hearing that baby, it’s going to be my new mantra.”

I do as he asks, spinning around and sucking in a sharp breath as his finger slips deep inside me, pumping, pumping as he presses his other hand flat between my shoulder blades.

“We won’t ever waste a drop. This is letting your little pussy know it’s going to be bred soon. A little taste of my seed before the big show. Daddy’s girl is going to be full very soon.”

I jerk and spasm, tossed into another convulsing orgasm as my step-brother calls himself Daddy and shoves a finger full of his cum inside me.

Put a fork in me. I’m.Done.

An hour later now, maybe more. We fell asleep after Trent finally got his shower, and between us we got him bandaged up. Whilewe soaped and let the water wash away our guilt, he got on his knees and ate me from the front and back until I couldn’t stand.

We were tangled up in each other’s arms under the covers and it felt like coming home. Not like siblings but like lovers. I wake up first, and tip-toe over to the bedroom door, careful not to wake him. I slip his t-shirt on over my head and let myself quietly out the door.

The sun is down, and I’m so thirsty, I make a silent beeline down the wide curved staircase to the immaculate kitchen.

I have been so focused on Trent, on us, that I haven’t really absorbed how magnificent this place is. It has to be 10,000 square feet, overlooking Lake Alpine. It shimmers in the moonlight, and in the distance—a thread of pink from the setting sun on the horizon and outline of the distant peaks of the mountains.

I take a heavy, crystal glass from the cupboard and fill it from the dispenser in the fridge door, gulping it down and then going back for a refill, quenching my thirst on a sigh as the full impact of the day washes over me.

Sinking down on a big plush chair that overlooks the lake, I take stock of my own body. My legs are quivering as I lower myself into the cushion, tired from being spread wide. Muscles not yet recovered from the rolling orgasms of which I lost count. My throat feels raw and I realize my hair is stiff with his semen. He didn’t want me to wash all of him off when we showered, which felt odd at the time, but now, I’m sort of happy he’s still on me.

But sitting here in this huge room, alone, the reality of what we’ve done overtakes me.

Such a clash of emotions. I feel peaceful. And yet…also, ashamed.

I feel sure we were just caught up in the moment. Hungry, missing each other, like wild animals acting on instinct. For aterrible second, I think to myself I could have been anybody. What if I was just the first woman available, the first woman he could get his hands on?

My mind flashes to war documentaries, like we saw in school. Soldiers kissing any woman they can find when they arrive back home, ticker-tape parade papers falling like confetti from the sky into the girl’s shiny curls and the soldier’s broad shoulders.

Surely it isn’tmewho he really wants. It’s just me who was in front of him first.

And that thought, it both helps and hurts. It means this taboo thing we’ve done, maybe it was just an accident. At least we didn’t finish it. Go to that final place and make a mistake we cannot undo.

Or maybe it wasn’t that at all.

First off, I’m his step-sisterand hardly a super model. In the big plate-glass window I catch my reflection. Cute. Curvy. Sweet. But I’m not at all what a man like Trent would want. Or deserve.

That calm, commanding, sexy aura. He should be with a woman that matches him. That equals him.

I shift in the chair, tucking my feet under my calves, cross-legged now. My ass stings, still sore and tender. I feel what must be welts from his hand. It hurt like hell. But itdidturn me on like nothing else ever has.

I inhale, trying to clear away the lingering lusty haze, and unfold myself from the chair. The dark hardwood floors are slick under my bare feet. His t-shirt is soft on my skin. There’s a low hum from the A/C and his scent on the fabric swirls around as I make my way back upstairs to the huge, cool master bedroom.

I slip under the sheets, studying his carved, perfect features as the moonlight’s fingers reach through the window and caress his face.

As I lightly trace his forehead my heart sinks and tightens.

“What have we done?” I whisper, before slipping into the gentle arms of sleep myself.

Eleven

Kat

It must be morning, but it is still dark and cloudy as the gentle sound of drizzle hits the window. I open my eyes, almost breathless with regret.

The bed is empty. His pillow is cool. He must be feeling the same way. I imagine him downstairs, pacing in the kitchen, waiting for me to say we’ve made a mistake. That it can never happen again.