CHAPTER 2 - I SEDUCED MY UNCLE AND HE LIKED IT II

**Victor’s POV**

I should have chosen a the movie myself.

Nora came downstairs wearing one of my old white shirts and a pair of short gray shorts that stopped high on her thighs. Her hair was slightly messy, like she had been lying down, and there was a faint flush still on her cheeks. She smelled like that sweet lotion she always used. Instead of taking her usual spot at the far end of the couch, she dropped down right beside me, pulled the large blanket over both of us, and tucked her legs underneath it.

“What are we watching?” she asked, voice light.

I handed her the remote and tried to ignore how close her bare thigh was to mine under the blanket. “Your turn to pick.”

She scrolled for a while and settled on some drama I didn’t recognize. For the first twenty minutes it was manageable. We passed the bowl of popcorn back and forth. She laughed at a few lines. I kept my eyes on the screen and my body under strict control the way I had trained myself to do whenever she stayed over.

It was getting harder every time.

I had been fighting this for almost two years. Ever since the summer she turned seventeen and hugged me at her birthday dinner and something in my chest had shifted in a way it had no right to shift. She was my sister’s daughter. I had known her since she was a little girl who asked me to read her stories and fell asleep against my shoulder. I had no business noticing the way her legs looked in short shorts or the soft sound of her breathing when she sat this close.

On the screen, the tone of the movie changed.

The two main characters stumbled into an apartment already kissing. Clothes started coming off with very little left to the imagination. The camera stayed close. The sounds grew wetter, more explicit. I felt the reaction in my body immediately — a heavy pull of heat low in my stomach, my cock beginning to fill against my thigh. Shame followed right behind it.

I reached for the remote.

Nora’s hand got there first.

“Don’t change it,” she said quietly.

I looked at her. “Nora.”

“I’m nineteen.” Her fingers stayed on the remote. Her voice was calm, but there was something underneath it I couldn’t quite read. “I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t have to change it every time a scene like this comes on.”

I should have taken the remote anyway. I should have turned the television off and sent her upstairs. Instead I let my hand fall back to my side and stared at the screen without really seeing it. The blanket suddenly felt too warm. I could feel myself getting fully hard and hated that I couldn’t stop it. My eyes kept drifting even when I ordered them not to — to the smooth stretch of her thigh under the edge of the blanket, to the way her chest rose and fell a little faster than before.

I was her uncle.  

I was supposed to protect her from men who looked at her the way I was looking at her right now.

On the screen the man pushed deeper between the woman’s legs. Nora shifted beside me. When she leaned forward to grab the juice carton on the coffee table, the blanket slid down and her hand brushed directly across the hard ridge of my cock through my sweatpants.

She felt everything.

Both of us went completely still.

Her hand stayed there for half a second too long before she pulled it back. The movie kept playing, the wet sounds suddenly obscene in the quiet living room. I couldn’t look at her. Heat crawled up my neck — part arousal, part pure self-loathing.

Nora’s voice came out softer than before.

“Why are you hard?”

I closed my eyes. My throat felt tight. “It’s nothing. Just the movie. We should turn it off and go to bed.”

She didn’t move.

“Is it because of them…” she asked, glancing at the dark shapes still moving on the screen, “or is it because of me?”

The question hit harder than it should have. I opened my mouth and nothing useful came out. I had spent months carefully never letting this conversation become possible. Now it was here and I was hard under the same blanket as my niece and I had no good answer that wasn’t a lie or a confession.

“Nora, don’t.”

“Are you hard thinking about me?”

I finally turned my head. Her eyes were dark and nervous and far too steady for someone who was supposed to be innocent. The truth sat on my tongue like something dangerous. Yes. Yes, I was hard because of her. Yes, I had been fighting the thought of her for longer than I wanted to admit. Yes, the idea of being the first man inside her made something possessive and ugly twist in my chest.

I swallowed it down.

“We’re not having this conversation,” I said. My voice came out rougher than I intended. I reached for the remote, turned the television off, and the sudden silence felt heavier than the sounds had. “It’s late. Go to bed.”

She stayed where she was.

“I want you to be the one,” she said.

The words landed in the quiet room and stayed there. I stared at her.

“I’m still a virgin.” Her voice shook slightly, but she didn’t look away. “All my friends already did it. They laugh at me every time we’re together. My boyfriend broke up with me because I kept saying I wasn’t ready. I’m tired of being the only one who doesn’t know what it feels like. And I don’t want it to be with some guy who doesn’t even care about me. I want it to be you.”

Something in my chest pulled tight. Want and horror tangled together until I could barely separate them. The image of her underneath me, inexperienced and trusting and looking at me with those eyes, was so vivid it made my cock twitch.

“No.”

“Uncle Victor—”

“Don’t.” I sat forward, elbows on my knees, staring at the black television screen because looking at her felt like stepping off a ledge. “You’re my niece. Your mother trusted me to look after you. I am not going to be the man who takes that from you.”

“We’re not really blood,” she said quickly. “You’re Mom’s adopted brother. It’s not the same.”

“It is the same where it matters.”

“I trust you.” Her voice got smaller. “I want it to be someone I trust. Someone I already think about when I’m alone.”

The last part nearly undid me. The knowledge that she touched herself thinking about me the same way I had been trying not to think about her made the guilt and the hunger twist so tightly I felt sick with it.

“I can’t,” I said. The words felt scraped out of me. “I won’t. You deserve someone your own age who can give you a real future, not your uncle who should have better control than this.”

The silence that followed was thick and ugly.

Nora pulled the blanket off her legs and stood up. When I finally looked at her, her eyes were shiny with hurt and something sharper.

“Right,” she said quietly. “So it’s not just my ex. It’s you too. Nobody actually wants me. I’m just the boring virgin who’s fine for movie nights and nothing else.”

“That is not what I said.”

“It’s what it feels like.” She took a step back toward the stairs. “Goodnight, Uncle Victor.”

She turned and walked upstairs without waiting for an answer. I heard her bedroom door close harder than usual.

I stayed on the couch in the dark, still painfully hard, still hearing her voice saying she wanted it to be me. The right choice was supposed to feel cleaner than this. It didn’t. It just felt like I had hurt her and denied myself in the same breath, and the worst part was that a dark, selfish part of me already regretted saying no.