Shared Bed Sins 3

The air in the room still smelled like sex—sweat, cum, and that faint cedarwood lingering on Adrian’s skin. Brielle’s thighs were sticky with both of them, her pussy still swollen and sensitive from the first round, throbbing faintly every time she shifted against his hip. His cock, half-hard already, rested heavy against her leg, slick and warm.

She tilted her head back to look at him, lips curved in a lazy, filthy smile. “You heard me, big brother. Tongue first. Make me cum all over your face before you fuck me again.”

Adrian’s eyes darkened instantly, pupils swallowing the hazel. He didn’t answer with words. He just moved.

He rolled her onto her back in one smooth motion, hands rough on her hips as he shoved the wet T-shirt up and over her head, tossing it somewhere in the dark. Her breasts spilled free—full, nipples still tight and reddened from earlier. He stared down at her like he was starving, gaze raking from her flushed face to the mess between her legs: her pussy lips puffy, glistening, a slow trickle of his cum leaking out of her.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “Look at this pretty little cunt. Still dripping my load. You’re such a filthy girl, Bri.”

She spread her thighs wider, shameless, knees falling open. “Then clean it up.”

He groaned low in his throat and dropped down between her legs, broad shoulders forcing her thighs apart even more. His hands hooked under her knees, pushing them up and out until she was folded nearly in half, pussy completely exposed—swollen clit peeking out, inner lips dark and slick.

He didn’t tease. He dove in.

His tongue flattened against her in one long, slow lick, dragging from her dripping entrance all the way up to her clit. He tasted them both—salty, musky, the sharp tang of her arousal mixed with his cum—and the sound he made was pure animal. Hungry. He buried his face deeper, nose pressed against her mound, tongue plunging inside her to lap at the mess he’d left.

Brielle’s back bowed off the bed, a choked “Fuck—Adrian—” spilling out before she could stop it. Her hands flew to his hair, fingers twisting hard, yanking him closer.

He ate her like he was trying to devour her whole.

Tongue fucking in and out of her hole, scooping out every drop of his cum, then swirling up to circle her clit in tight, relentless strokes. He sucked the swollen bud into his mouth, hard, flicking the tip with quick little lashes that made her hips jerk. One hand slid up to pinch and roll her nipple while the other gripped her thigh, holding her open so he could grind his face against her, beard stubble scraping her sensitive skin.

“Fuck—your tongue—fuck, right there—” she gasped, voice breaking. Her thighs trembled around his head, heels digging into the mattress.

He pulled back just enough to growl against her pussy, lips shiny with her. “Taste so fucking good, little sis. This tight cunt’s mine now. Gonna make you cum so hard you forget your own name.”

Then he sucked her clit again, harder, humming around it so the vibration shot straight through her core. Two fingers slid inside her—thick, curling up against that spot that made her see white—while his tongue worked her clit in fast, filthy circles.

Brielle’s hips bucked wildly. She was close—already so sensitive from round one that every lick felt like fire. Her breaths came in short, desperate pants. “Adrian—fuck—I’m gonna—don’t stop—please—”

He didn’t. He fucked her with his fingers faster, tongue relentless, until she shattered.

Her orgasm hit like a freight train. Her whole body seized, thighs clamping around his head, pussy clenching hard around his fingers as she came with a muffled scream she barely managed to bite into her own arm. Wetness flooded his mouth—her release mixing with the remnants of his cum—and he drank it down, groaning like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He kept licking through the aftershocks, softer now, coaxing every last tremor out of her until she was whimpering, oversensitive, pushing weakly at his head.

“Too much—fuck—Adrian—”

He finally lifted his face, lips and chin glistening, eyes wild. He crawled back up her body, cock fully hard again, heavy and leaking against her thigh.

“You taste like sin,” he rasped, kissing her hard so she could taste herself on his tongue. “Now I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He flipped her over without warning—onto her stomach, then up onto her knees. She arched her back instinctively, ass in the air, pussy still dripping. He gripped her hips, thumbs spreading her open so he could watch his cock nudge against her entrance.

“Beg for it,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Beg your stepbrother to fill this greedy little pussy again.”

Brielle pushed back against him, desperate. “Please—fuck me, Adrian. I need your cock. Stretch me again. Fuck me hard. I want to feel you come inside me again.”

He slammed in with one brutal thrust.

She cried out, face dropping to the pillow to muffle it. He was thicker from this angle, deeper, hitting spots that made her toes curl. He didn’t give her time to adjust—just pulled almost all the way out and drove back in, hard, fast, relentless.

The bed creaked under them, loud enough that they both froze for half a second, listening for any sound from the hall. Nothing. Just their ragged breathing and the wet, obscene slap of skin on skin.

“Quiet, baby,” he growled, but he didn’t slow down. One hand wrapped in her hair, tugging her head back so he could see her face—mouth open, eyes glassy with pleasure. “Can’t have Mom hearing how much you love getting fucked by your big brother.”

The words made her clench around him. He cursed, hips snapping harder.

“Fuck—you squeeze me so good. This pussy was made for me.”

He reached around, fingers finding her clit again, rubbing fast, rough circles while he pounded into her from behind. The angle was brutal—every thrust dragging against her G-spot, his balls slapping against her with every deep stroke.

Brielle was a mess—moaning into the pillow, drooling, pushing back to meet him thrust for thrust. “Harder—fuck me harder—don’t stop—”

He obliged. His rhythm turned punishing, hips slamming forward, cock driving so deep she felt bruised in the best way. Sweat slicked their skin. Her breasts bounced with every impact, nipples grazing the sheets.

She came again—sudden, violent—walls fluttering, spasming, milking him. “Adrian—fuck—I’m coming—oh god—”

He groaned, pace faltering. “Me too—fuck—gonna fill you up—take it, Bri—take every fucking drop—”

He buried himself to the hilt and came hard, cock pulsing, flooding her again with thick, hot spurts. She felt it—every jet, every twitch—until it was leaking out around him, dripping down her thighs.

They collapsed together, panting, tangled. He stayed inside her a minute longer, softening slowly, kissing the back of her neck, her shoulder.

“Still okay?” he murmured, voice softer now.

Brielle laughed breathlessly, turning her head to catch his lips in a lazy kiss. “Better than okay. But if we keep this up, we’re definitely getting caught.”

He grinned against her mouth. “Worth it.”

She squeezed around him one last time, playful. “Round three?”

His cock twitched inside her. “Give me five minutes, greedy girl.”

They both laughed—quiet, breathless, tangled in sheets and sin—and the house stayed silent around them, oblivious. For now.