Chapter 3

Unaware of what was going on, Maria kept on putting up a show for her imaginary audience. The granite was cool and smooth under her elbows as she leaned back further. The thin cotton of her shorts was damp against her skin, and the pale fabric betrayed a darker patch where her brother’s release had soaked through. Her nipples were pressed against the soft fabric of her tank top.

Every shift of her weight sent a fresh pulse between her legs. She closed her eyes, letting the memory wash over her. She could still feel his hands, his mouth, the rough grip on her hips, and the guttural sounds he made as he emptied himself inside her.

Drake, who was still stunned by the revelation, stared at his wife, unable to process what she just said. He couldn't believe his son beat him first to that pussy he had fantasised about for months.

“She’s waiting,” Bella, his wife, breathed, her breath coming quicker.

“But —”

“You want to, don't you? I won't stop you,” she said with a smile. “As long as it's our daughter, I'm willing to share her with you.”

That was freaking all he needed. “Thank you,” he whispered before he moved. He tucked his dick back into his slacks, just in case his daughter refuses him. He had no intention of forcing her.

Maria didn't hear him approaching until his large, calloused hands settled on her hips, over the damp cotton.

She froze. A sharp intake of breath. Her eyes flew open, staring at the granite veining beneath her hands.

“Dad?” she gasped.

His hands were hot as he leaned into her, his chest against her back, and she felt the hard, insistent ridge of his cock pressed against the cleft of her ass, through his trousers, and through her shorts. A whimper caught in her throat. She didn’t pull away. She leaned back into the solid wall of him.

“You’re wet,” he mumbled as one hand left her hip, slid around her front, palm flattening low on her belly, pulling her back more firmly against his erection. “You’re soaked for him.”

Maria’s head dropped forward. A flush burned across her chest, up her neck. “I…”

His other hand moved. Down from her hip, over the curve of her ass, his fingers tracing the damp patch on her shorts. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the slickness. A rough sound escaped him.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and her panties beneath, and pulled them down in one sharp motion, just to the middle of her thighs.

Drake’s breath hitched. The evidence was there, glistening on her inner thighs. The scent of Mark's cum was stronger now.

Maria trembled when she heard the rustle of fabric and the soft thud of his trousers falling. Then the hot, heavy press of his cock, bare now, against her bare skin. The thick head of his cock nudged against her, slick with her wetness and his brother’s cum. He was bigger than Mark. Thicker even. The stretch was immediate.

She cried out as her back arched, and her fingers gripped the granite under her so hard that she feared she might break her skin.

He filled her and held himself there, buried to the hilt, his body shuddering against hers. His hands came back to her hips, gripping hard, his fingers digging into her flesh. He bent over her, his mouth near her ear, his breathing ragged.

“My daughter,” he growled, the words thick with possession. “Dirty little girl. Letting your brother fuck you. Now you take your father.”

He moved. Each thrust rocked her forward against the island, the edge digging into her hip bones. She could only take it, her body pliant, open, accepting the violation with a shamed and desperate hunger. Her moans were muffled against her arm.

From the hallway, Bella watched, her hand moving beneath her silk trousers. Her lips were parted, her eyes glazed with a fierce, voyeuristic pleasure. She watched her husband’s powerful back flex with each thrust. She watched her daughter’s body jolt as she accepted and surrendered to her father's touch.

Drake’s pace increased. One of his hands slid up her back, under her tank top, finding her breast. He squeezed the full weight of it, his thumb rasping over her hard nipple. She arched into his touch, and a fresh wave of slickness coated his driving cock.

“That’s it,” he muttered. “Take it. Your cunt was made for this. For your family.”

The back door opened silently, just as she was about to climax. Mark, who had just stepped in to take his phone, stood frozen in the doorway to the garden, his keys in hand. His eyes went from his father’s back, to his sister bent over the island, her shorts around her thighs, to their mother watching them with her hand in her pants. His face cycled through shock, confusion, and then a dark, dawning understanding. A slow, hungry smile spread across his face.

Drake didn’t stop fucking his daughter, even though he knew his son was watching. His thrusts became harder, more frantic as his balls slapped against her skin. “Close the door,” he commanded, "and get over here.”

Mark did as he was asked. He closed the door and dropped his keys on the counter with a clatter. His eyes were locked on where his father was joined to his sister. On the glistening stretch of her around Drake’s thick cock. He moved closer as his dick hardened, twitching. He came to stand beside Maria’s head. She turned her face, her eyes wide and glazed, a tear tracing a path through the flush on her cheek.

“Look at you,” Mark said, his voice husky. He reached out and brushed the hair from her forehead. “Still full of me, and now full of him. Aren't you such a whore, spreading your legs when asked?”

He leaned down and captured her mouth in a kiss. She kissed him back, hungry and desperate, her mouth opening under his.

Drake watched them kiss, his thrusts turning punishing. “Hold her,” he grunted to his son.

Mark broke the kiss. He moved behind his father, his hands coming to rest on Maria’s shoulders, pinning her gently but firmly to the island.

Drake’s rhythm became erratic, his breathing a harsh rasp. He was close. His grip on her hips was bruising.

“I think it's time to breed you,” he choked out. "Dad wants to mark what's his. You understand, right?”

Maria could only nod as her climax coiled tight. It built, tightening with every brutal thrust.