100 NIGHTS OF SIN: EROTICA SHORT STORIES

“Fifty bucks says I can fuck her by the end of summer.”

The words hit me like a slap, raw and ugly, right outside Jake’s bedroom door. My fingers froze on the knob. My brand-new stepbrother, six-foot-three of cocky, sun-bleached arrogance, was betting on me. On Lily. The quiet girl who’d been dragged into this beach house two weeks ago after our parents decided a Vegas wedding was a great fucking idea.

His friend laughed, low and dirty. “Dude, that’s your stepsister now.”

“Not by blood,” Jake drawled, voice dripping with lazy confidence. “And Jesus Christ, have you seen that ass in those little denim shorts? The way it jiggles when she walks? Those fat tits straining against every tank top like they’re begging to be let out? She’s been eye-fucking me since day one. Bet she’s soaked every time I look at her.”

Heat flooded my face, my chest, my cunt. I’d noticed the stares, sure. Those piercing arctic-blue eyes tracked me across the kitchen, lingered on my hard nipples when I bent over the fridge. I told myself it was nothing. I told myself I hated the way my stomach flipped every time he walked into a room. I told myself I didn’t press my thighs together when he brushed past me too close.

Why did mum have to marry his father?

But hearing it laid bare like this, crude and transactional, lit something feral inside me.

Because who the fuck did Jake think he really was?

I kicked the door so hard it bounced off the wall. Beer cans clattered. His friends scattered like startled seagulls, mumbling excuses, slamming out the side door. Jake didn’t flinch. He just lounged back on his bed, shirtless, carved surfer muscle glistening with a sheen of sweat, basketball shorts riding so low the thick base of his cock was practically on display.

That cocky half-smirk never left his face.

“Enjoy the show, sis?”

My hands shook with rage. “You think I’m some easy bet? Some slut you can brag about nailing for fifty fucking dollars?”

He sat up slowly, elbows on his knees. “Never said you were easy, Lily. Just said I’d win.”

“Win?” I stepped closer, voice shaking. “You think I’m a goddamn trophy? That I’d just spread my legs because you decided you want me? You’re disgusting.”

His eyes narrowed, the smirk fading just a fraction. “I heard the way you say my name at dinner. Saw you staring when I came in from surfing. Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’d let you treat me like a fucking side bet with your frat-boy friends!” I shouted. “I’m not some conquest, Jake. I’m your stepsister now. This is our family.”

He stood up slowly, towering over me, jaw tight as his eyes darkened due to my thin tank top and pebbling nipples. “You think I give a shit about what our parents signed on some paper? You’ve been in this house two weeks and I can’t look at you without getting hard. That’s not family, Lily. That’s chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” I laughed, bitter and sharp. “You think objectifying me, betting on me like I’m a sure thing, is chemistry? You don’t even know me.”

“I know you bite your lip when you’re nervous,” he fired back, stepping closer. “I know you wear those tiny shorts when you know I’m home. I know your nipples get hard every time I walk into a room. I know you linger in the hallway outside my door at night. Don’t stand there and pretend you’re innocent in this.”

My face burned hotter as his words sent a new wave of desire through me. “That doesn’t give you the right.”

“I’m not asking for rights,” he cut in, voice low and rough. “I’m telling you I want you. Bad. And yeah, maybe I was a dick about it with the guys. But I’m not lying. I’ve been going insane trying not to touch you.”

I shoved at his chest. Hard muscle, zero give. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to reduce me to some slut you brag about banging for pocket change.”

He caught my wrists, held them between us. “Then tell me to stop. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off. Right now.”

The room went dead silent except for our breathing.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because the truth, the ugly, shameful truth, was that I did want it. I’d wanted it since the first time I saw him smirk at me across the kitchen island. I hated him for making me want it. I hated myself more.

“Fuck you,” I whispered, voice cracking.

His grip tightened. “Say it again.”

“Fuck. You.”

“You want to fuck me for fifty bucks?” My voice came out low, dangerous. “Then get on your knees and beg, big brother.”

He was off the bed in a heartbeat, eating up the space between us until my back hit the door. Six-three of pure muscle caged me in, heat rolling off him in waves.

“I don’t beg,” he growled, voice rough as broken shells. “But I’ll make you scream my name in a prayer."

His mouth crashed down on mine. No warning, no softness. Just pure, filthy possession. Tongue shoved past my lips, licked into me like he already owned every inch. I moaned before I could stop myself, tasting beer and salt and raw want. My hands fisted in his hair, yanked hard. He snarled into the kiss and bit my bottom lip until I whimpered.

Big hands grabbed the hem of my tank and ripped it upward, broke the kiss only long enough to tear it over my head. My bra was next. Snapped open with one brutal tug, tits spilled free, bounced heavy. Cool air hit my nipples. They tightened instantly.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasped, palmed both roughly, squeezed until I gasped. His thumbs flicked the stiff peaks, then pinched hard, twisted until pain blurred into blinding pleasure. “Been jerking my cock raw thinking about these every night, Lily. Imagining them wrapped around me, covered in my cum.”

He dipped his head and sucked one nipple deep into his scalding mouth. Teeth scraped, tongue lashed, wet suction noises filled the room. His free hand slapped my other tit sharp and stinging, watched it jiggle and redden before he mauled it again, kneaded like he couldn’t get enough. I arched into him, thighs clenched, already soaked through my shorts.

He pulled off with a wet pop, blew cold air over the aching bud, then attacked the other one just as viciously. My knees nearly buckled.

“Jake.” It came out a broken moan.

He spun me fast, slammed my front to the door. My bare tits squished against the wood, nipples dragged with every breath. Shorts and panties dragged down my thighs in one savage yank, pooled at my ankles. Cool air kissed my dripping pussy right before his huge palm cracked across my ass once, twice, three times in rapid succession.

The sting exploded into heat. I cried out.

“Count them, little sister,” he ordered, voice dark and thick.

Smack.

“One, fuck.”

Smack. Harder, right on the same spot.

“Two, Jake...”

By seven my ass was glowing cherry-red, thighs trembled, slick ran in rivulets down the inside of my legs. He ground against me from behind, still in his shorts, the obscene ridge of his cock dragged over my burning skin. Dry humped me like a rutting animal, hips rolled slow and filthy, let me feel every thick inch he was about to ruin me with.

“Feel that?” He fisted my hair, yanked my head back until my spine arched painfully. His other hand wrapped around my throat firm, possessive, thumb pressed just under my jaw. “Feel how fucking hard your own stepbrother is for you?”

He squeezed, cut off air for a heartbeat. My pulse thundered in my ears, cunt clenched on nothing. Then he let go and I sucked in a desperate breath, dizzy and dripping.

He kicked my feet wider. His shorts dropped. That monster cock slapped heavy against my sore ass scalding, veined, already leaked precum in fat beads. He dragged the swollen head through my sloppy folds, coated himself, nudged my clit until I was humping back against him shamelessly.

“Jake, please.”

“Please what, baby sis?”

“Fuck me. Shove that big brother cock inside me. I need it.”

He snarled, lined up, and thrust balls-deep in one brutal stroke.

I screamed. The stretch was obscene, burned, perfect, too much and not enough. He bottomed out, hips flush to my burning ass, and held there, let me feel every pulsing inch.

“So goddamn tight,” he groaned. “Like this greedy little pussy was made to milk its own brother.”

He pulled back slow, dragged over every nerve, then slammed home again. The door rattled in its frame. Again. Again. Harder, faster, until my tits were smacking the wood with every thrust and the only sounds were wet slaps, my broken moans, and his filthy praise.

His hand left my hair to snake around and choke me again tighter this time, owned my breath while his other rubbed brutal circles over my clit. I came without warning, squirted down my thighs, walls clamped around him so hard he cursed.

He didn’t stop. Fucked me right through it until I was sobbing from overstimulation.

Then he pulled out, spun me, and shoved me to my knees.

“Open that pretty mouth.”

His cock glistened with my cream and shoved past my lips before I could breathe. He fucked my face hard, hips snapped, balls slapped my chin. Drool poured down my chin, mixed with tears and mascara. I gagged, throat convulsed around the head, but sucked harder, hollowed my cheeks, desperate to taste him.

“Fuck yes, choke on your brother’s dick, Lily.” He held my head and pistoned until my jaw ached, then yanked out with a wet pop, strings of spit connected us.

He hauled me up, threw me on the bed like I weighed nothing. Before I could scramble, his head was between my thighs, tongue speared deep, lapped up the mess we’d made like he was starving. Two thick fingers shoved in alongside, curled hard, pounded my g-spot while he sucked my clit so viciously I saw stars.

I came again instantly, ground against his face, screamed into the pillow as he drank every drop.

He flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up until I was on all fours. Another round of merciless spanks ten, fifteen, I lost count until my ass was throbbing and I was begging incoherently. Then he mounted me, cock drove so deep I felt him in my throat.

One hand fisted my hair, arched my back. The other choked me from the front now, fingers dug into the sides of my neck, controlled every breath while he railed me raw.

“Whose pussy is this, Lily?”

“Y-yours, fuck, your sister’s sloppy little cunt.”

He roared, slammed home one last time, flooded me with thick, hot ropes of cum. I felt every pulse, felt it leak out around him as he kept lazily thrusting through the mess

But he wasn’t finished.

He rolled us, pulled me on top. “Ride me. Show big brother how much you love this taboo shit.”

I sank down with a broken moan, took him to the root. His hands gripped my sore ass, spread me wide while I bounced, tits jiggled wildly. He slapped them, pinched my nipples, choked me lightly as I chased another orgasm.

Reverse cowgirl with his thumb teased my ass, threatened to push in. Doggy again, hair pulled so tight my scalp burned, his palm printed my skin red. Slow, filthy missionary where he kissed me deep and tender even as he choked me and whispered about breeding his own stepsister until I came just from the words.

By the fifth round we were wrecked. Sheets ruined, bodies slick with sweat and cum, bite marks and handprints bloomed everywhere. He had me on my side, one leg hitched over his hip, cock buried deep, rocked lazy and possessive while he sucked dark bruises into my tits and throat.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. His friend: “You hit that yet bro??”

Jake didn’t even look away from my eyes. He reached over, deleted the message, and tossed the phone across the room. It clattered to the floor.

He rolled on top of me again, slid home effortlessly into the mess between my thighs.

“Lock the door, sis,” he murmured against my swollen lips.

My arm trembled as I reached back and clicked it shut.

His grin was pure sin, eyes already darkened again.

“Good girl. Spread those legs wide. Big brother’s keeping you full till sunrise, and every fucking night this summer.”

He thrust deep, swallowed my moan with a kiss that tasted like salt, cum, and the most forbidden kind of desire.