CHAPTER 2 - I LET MY UNCLE RUIN ME II

My eyes stung with humiliation. I stared at the open collar of his shirt because looking at his face felt impossible.

He tugged the waistband another fraction, pulling me even closer until my hips were almost against the desk between his legs. My hands had nowhere to go. I ended up gripping the edge of the desk on either side of his thighs just to stay upright.

“If you lie to me again,” Victor said, still in that same low, even tone, “I am going to punish you. Severely. Do you understand?”

The word *punish* landed straight between my legs. Another pulse of heat followed it. I was dripping now, the fabric of my panties clinging uncomfortably, and he was close enough that I was terrified he could tell.

I nodded once, quick and shaky.

“Use your words, Nora.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He waited.

My voice came out smaller the second time. “Yes… I understand.”

Victor’s eyes moved over my face like he was reading every flushed inch of it. He still hadn’t raised his voice. He still looked completely in control. The only sign that anything had shifted was the way his fingers stayed hooked in my waistband, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.

“Good,” he said quietly. “Now you’re going to tell me the truth. What were you imagining while you had your hand between your legs?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. The truth felt too raw to say out loud. That I had been picturing my uncle with his shirt open. That I had been imagining his hand in my hair, fucking my mouth like a filthy slut. That I had been so turned on by the sound of his voice alone that I had started touching myself in the middle of a job interview without even realizing it.

Victor’s thumb stroked that same small strip of skin again, patient and relentless.

"I'm waiting." 

I opened my mouth to talk but no words came out, just a small sound I couldn’t stop.

His other hand slid down from the waistband, cupped one side of my ass, and squeezed. The grip was firm, possessive, nothing like an uncle’s touch. He kept squeezing while his eyes stayed locked on mine, watching every flicker of reaction that crossed my face.

“You’ve been thinking about this, huh?” he asked quietly. It wasn’t a question.

I tried to look away. He squeezed again, harder, and my hips jerked forward against him without permission, I felt his length already hardened against my stomach. 

“Answer me, Nora.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

His hand on my ass flexed. The other one started gathering the fabric of my skirt, pulling it higher in slow, deliberate tugs until the cool air of the office touched the backs of my thighs. I was still standing between his legs, pressed against him, and every small movement made the hard length of his cock rub against me.

“Look at me.”

I did. His eyes were darker than before.

“Do you want your secret fantasy to come true?”

The question hung between us. My heart was slamming so hard I felt dizzy. I could still feel how wet I was, the way my panties clung to me. The fact that this was my uncle—Mom’s brother, the man who used to send birthday cards—only made the ache worse but I couldn't help it. 

I swallowed. “Yes.”

Something shifted in his expression. Approval, maybe. Or hunger.

He let go of my skirt just long enough to grip my hips and turn us. In one smooth motion he lifted me and set me on the edge of his desk. My legs parted automatically to make room for him. He stepped between them, close enough that his cock pressed right against the soaked center of my panties. The contact made us both still for a second.

Then he started grinding against me.

Slow. Controlled. The thick ridge of him rubbed over my clit through the thin fabric with every roll of his hips. A helpless sound slipped out of me. My hands flew to his shoulders just to hold on. He kept the motion steady, watching my face the entire time, while one hand slid up to unbuttoned my blouse. 

“No bra,” he murmured, almost to himself. His palm spread across my bare skin. “You’ve been sitting across from me like this the whole time.”

I couldn’t answer. He was still grinding against me, slow and filthy, and the friction was making my thighs tremble.

Victor’s hand moved higher. He hooked his fingers in the neckline of the crop top and pulled it down, exposing both of my big breasts in one motion. The cool air tightened my nipples instantly. He stared at it for a long moment, then cupped one breast in his hand, thumb brushing over the peak.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. It was the first time I’d ever heard him swear.

He lowered his head. His mouth closed over the other nipple, warm and wet, and sucked. At the same time his free hand slid between my thighs, found the soaked crotch of my panties, and hooked the fabric aside. Two fingers stroked through my wetness, spreading it, then pushed inside me without warning.

My head fell back.

"Ahh..fuck." A broken moan left my throat. "It feels even better when you do it."

Victor’s mouth stayed on my breast, tongue circling, while his fingers curled inside me in the same slow rhythm he had used when he was grinding. He was still fully dressed. I was the one half-exposed on his desk, blouse thrown away, crop top pulled down, skirt rucked up around my waist, panties shoved aside, my uncle’s fingers buried in me.

He lifted his head just enough to speak against my skin.

“How long Nora?”

I could barely think. “What?”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” His fingers stroked deeper. “And don't lie to me, Nora.”

I forced the words out between shaky breaths. “Three years. The last time you came to the house. You were only there for two days and I… I couldn’t stop looking at you. I felt so sick about it after and kept thinking about you everytime i touched myself. I know you're my uncle. You’re still my uncle but...”

Victor’s fingers kept moving, steady and knowing. His thumb found my clit and pressed.

“But what?” he asked.

“I still can’t stop wanting you to fuck me senseless.”

He made a low sound of approval and kissed the side of my breast, then higher, along my collarbone, until his mouth reached the edge of my jaw. He didn’t kiss my lips. He just stayed there, breathing against my skin, while his hand worked between my legs.

“You’re soaking my fingers,” he murmured. “All this for your uncle.”

I whimpered. The wet sounds of what he was doing filled the quiet office. My hips kept trying to rock against his hand, chasing more.

Victor’s free hand left my breast and gripped my thigh, spreading me wider on the desk. He added a third finger, stretching me, and the pressure made my eyes flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he ordered softly. “I want to watch your face while I finger-fuck my niece.”

The filthy words sent another rush of heat through me. I forced my eyes open and stared at him. His expression was dark with control and hunger. He looked completely calm except for the muscle ticking in his jaw and the hard line of his cock still pressed against the inside of my thigh.

“Tell me what you imagined,” he said, fingers curling against the spot that made my legs shake. “When you touched yourself just now. What was I doing to you?”