Secrets Between Sisters

Claire’s POV

     “Quiet, Claire,” he growled against my ear, voice low and dangerous. “You want your sister to hear how well I fuck you?”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat through me even as guilt twisted in my chest. Evelyn. My perfect older sister. The one everyone adored. The one whose husband was buried balls-deep inside me right now. His hand clamped over my mouth just as I started to moan too loud. The storage room in the back of the country club smelled like aged wood and expensive whiskey, the same place we’d been sneaking into for the last three years. Marcus thrust into me harder, the table beneath me creaking with every brutal stroke. I was bent over it, dress shoved up around my waist, panties ripped and dangling from one ankle.

I bit his palm to keep from crying out as he slammed into me again, thick and relentless. He was so big it always bordered on pain, but I craved that edge. My walls clenched around him, slick and greedy, pulling him deeper. Sweat slicked our skin where my back pressed against his chest. One of his hands gripped my hip hard enough to bruise while the other stayed over my mouth, fingers digging into my cheek.

      “Fuck, you’re dripping,” he rasped, slowing his thrusts just enough to make me whimper in protest. 

He dragged his cock almost all the way out, teasing my entrance with the swollen head, then drove back in with one savage push that made my eyes roll back. 

     “This pussy always gets so wet for me. Does it get like this for anyone else?”

I shook my head frantically. No one else. Only him. Only the man I’d stolen from my own sister.

Marcus chuckled darkly and released my mouth, only to wrap his fingers around my throat instead. Not choking, just holding. Possessing. He pulled me upright so my back was flush against him, changing the angle until he hit that spot inside me that made my legs shake. His other hand slid down to rub tight, messy circles over my swollen clit.

     “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, biting the side of my neck. “Let me feel how much you need this.”

I shattered. Pleasure crashed through me so hard my vision blurred. I came with his name on my lips, barely a whisper, my body convulsing around his cock. He groaned, thrusting through it, drawing it out until I was a trembling mess in his arms. He didn’t stop. He never did until he’d taken everything.

Marcus spun me around, lifted me onto the table, and spread my thighs wide. For a second he just looked at me—flushed face, swollen lips, my pussy glistening and open for him. Then he was inside me again, deeper in this position, fucking me with long, punishing strokes that made the table slam against the wall.

     “Look at me,” he ordered.

I did. His eyes were wild, dark with the same obsession that had trapped us both years ago. He wasn’t supposed to be mine. He was Evelyn’s. But the first time he touched me at her birthday party, something broke between all of us. And neither of us had been strong enough to stop.

     “I’m close,” he grunted, hips snapping faster. “Gonna fill you up again.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper.

      “Do it. I want it.”

He came with a low, low pitched sound, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside me. Hot pulses that marked me as his. I held him through it, fingers digging into his shoulders, both of us breathing like we’d run a marathon. For a moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing and the distant hum of the country club party happening just down the hall. Evelyn was out there somewhere, smiling that flawless smile, probably telling guests how wonderful her marriage was. Reality crashed back in. Marcus pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from me with dark satisfaction. He tucked himself back into his pants while I shakily fixed my dress, legs still trembling.

     “We can’t keep doing this here,” I whispered, even though we both knew we would. “It’s getting too risky.”

He stepped close again, cupping my face. His thumb brushed my lower lip.

     “You say that every time. Then you text me the next day begging for more.”

I hated how right he was. I hated myself for needing him this much. Before I could respond, my phone vibrated on the table. I glanced at the screen.

Evelyn: Where are you? Mom’s asking for you. And have you seen Marcus?

My stomach dropped. Marcus saw the message too, his jaw tightened.

     “Tell her you were in the bathroom,” he said quietly.

I nodded, but my fingers shook as I typed the lie. As I hit send, another text came through—this one from an unknown number.

Unknown: I know what you’ve been doing with him. Meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes or the whole family finds out tonight.

The phone nearly slipped from my hand.

Marcus noticed my expression. “What is it?”

I stared at the message, heart hammering against my ribs. Someone knew. After all this time hiding, lying, stealing moments like this… someone had finally caught us. And they were done staying silent.