004: Fuck Me Right There

Lilian's POV.

“You're going to get out of this room and pretend that none of this ever happened.”

My chest tightened with a dull pain as I recalled those words. It didn't matter if it was seven days ago, the effect still clung to my skin like it'd just been minutes. 

How could it not?

When Leon had acted so cold around me. Here I was, constantly thinking about his hands on me, his lips on mine while the man in question didn't even spare me a second glance.

He never told me why he wanted me away from his room. And I was too embarrassed to ask him. Actually, I was too aroused by him to face him. 

We'd not spoken to each other since the incident at the bathroom but I became more aware of him. Not a day went by without me creating scenarios in my head. 

While I wanted to believe that he wasn't gay, a little part of my psyche assumed he was keeping his distance because he wasn't comfortable. So today, I finally decided to show myself in front of him.

Chelsea wasn't home.

It was just us, again. 

I slid on the shortest skirt I owned, matching that with a see through crop top. Today, the goal was simple–seduce Leon.

Besides the fact that he knew exactly where to touch, and knew exactly how to make me squirm, we didn't have penetration.

But I was determined to get that today.

I stared at my reflection, loving how my small waist spread into wide thighs. The crop top clung to the upper half of my body and my long hair fell on either side of my face in a side part. 

For the average guy, I was irresistible. But for Leon? Probably basic. Either way, I wasn't giving up. 

I stepped out of my room, walking over to him while counting my breaths. Leon was nowhere to be found in his room. I found myself walking down the stairs, now feeling self-conscious about what I was wearing because what if someone walked in right now?

I'd be so mortified.

All thoughts of self consciousness when I saw Leon in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water with an apple in his hand. He was wearing a grey tank top and sweatpants and the way his hair fell across his face…Christ. 

My breath hitched when his eyes darted towards the door, meeting my frame. His eyes raked my body up and down, and he looked mostly irritated but then beneath that was a flicker of surprise. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, turning away. 

He took a bite of the fruit in his hand, and I wasn't sure why I found his chewing sexy…I wondered what his tongue would feel like against my folds. The thought of that had me steadying my breath.

“Are you going to talk or are you just going to stand there?” He questioned, his tone now sounding irritated. 

I shook my head slightly, crossing my arms, “What do you mean by that question?” 

“Are you seriously going to make me say it? Why the fuck are you dressed like a slut?” He asked, taking another big bite. 

My cheeks burned with embarrassment but I squared my shoulders, unwilling to relent. 

“Since when did it become a crime to wear something sexy? If you're affected, just say so,” I said, now cat-walking into the kitchen, heading towards him.

His face hardened as I approached and the moment I stepped close to him, he stepped back, almost like he was trying to avoid me.

“Whatever this is, keep it away from me.” 

My brows furrowed, “why? Why are you avoiding me? You know this attitude actually makes me believe that you might actually be gay. Sure, we touched each other but there was no penetration.” 

He chuckled, the sound dry and bitter, and then his expression turned icy. He pulled me into his arms in one swift motion, “You're way too curious for your own good, Lilian. If you overstep, I might just show you what I'm made of. And when I do? There's no going back.” 

My boobs pressed against his chest, my nipples reacting almost immediately to the contact. 

“Instead of talking, I want you to show it to me. Show me exactly what you've got. I don't think you're all that special anyway. I've been fingered and your hands were basic,” I lied.

Nothing about the way his fingers fucked me were basic. His fingers literally had me yearning for his touch all week. But seeing how his brows arched, I could tell I’d struck a nerve. 

And I wouldn't mind doing that again if it provokes him to fuck me.

He suddenly let me go, taking a deep breath right after. He grabbed another apple from the fruit bowl, turning to me.

“You're going to have to do more than dressing slutty to have me fuck you. You're my stepsister and I'm not about to ruin that because I want to prove shit to you,” He muttered. 

I scoffed, “Why does that sound like a convenient excuse? There's only an issue if one gets caught isn't it? Besides, why do I have to even make efforts to attract you? Why don't you get turned on from the mere sight of me?” 

“Who said I'm not?” 

His reply made my heart flutter with a strangely good feeling. I felt this boost of confidence from the realization that he was affected by me.

“The fact that I'm not pinning you to the wall and fucking you senseless doesn't mean I'm not turned on. As I've said before, if I'm to start with you, there's no going back.” 

I crossed my arms, moving closer to him, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of heat crawling up my neck.

“That's exactly what I want. Fuck me right here. No one will find out and I'll be sure you're not gay,” I insisted and just then, he closed in on the distance between us. 

One of his hands dropped to the swell of my boobs and he pinched my nipples, the other swept behind him, cupping a handful of my ass. 

He tilted his head to the side, claiming my lower lips. He kissed and stopped, kissed and stopped, teasing me with the act.

His hands swung around me, my weight now resting in his hands as he dropped me on the island. 

“Remember. You asked for this,” He said and after that he parted my legs.