CHAPTER 5:HE COMES BACK

I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about the kitchen.

It didn’t work.

Every time I sat down I felt the ghost of his hand between my legs. Every time I swallowed I felt the place where his mouth had been on my neck. I changed into a different hoodie. I put music on. I tried to study. Nothing helped.

By the time the house went quiet that night, my body was still wound tight.

Richard’s office light stayed on until almost midnight. When it finally clicked off, I heard his footsteps go down the hall to the master bedroom. The house settled. Pipes ticked. Somewhere outside a car passed and then silence returned.

I told myself I would lock the door.

I didn’t.

A little after one, it opened.

Josh stepped inside and closed it behind him without a sound. He was still in the black sweatpants from earlier, still shirtless. The only light came from the streetlamp outside my window, painting one side of his face silver and leaving the rest in shadow. His gray eyes found me immediately.

“You’ve been waiting,” he said quietly.

I sat up in bed, heart already racing. “I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” He walked over slowly, stopping at the edge of the mattress. “You’ve been wet since the kitchen. I could feel it then. I can see it on your face now.”

I swallowed. “Josh… Richard’s home.”

“I know.” His voice was calm. Almost soft. “So you’re going to be quiet. Like a good girl.”

He reached down and pulled the covers off me in one motion. I was only wearing an old T-shirt and underwear. His eyes dragged over my legs, my hips, the way the shirt had ridden up.

“Take them off.”

My hands hesitated.

Josh tilted his head. “Now.”

I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my underwear and slid them down. The cool air hit me. I felt exposed and already aching.

He made a low sound of approval. Then he climbed onto the bed, knees on either side of my thighs, and looked down at me like he had all night.

“You left me hard in that kitchen,” he murmured. “Walking around the house with my cock throbbing because you were dripping on my hand. That was rude.”

“You walked away,” I whispered.

“I did.” He leaned down, bracing one hand beside my head. The other slid between my legs without warning, two fingers pushing through my wetness and sinking inside. I gasped. He curled them immediately, pressing against that spot that made my back arch. “And now I’m back. So you’re going to take what you were begging for earlier.”

He worked his fingers slowly, deeply, watching my face the entire time. The wet sound of it was obscene in the quiet room. My hips moved without permission, chasing the pressure.

“Listen to that,” he said, voice dark with satisfaction. “Soaked. Just from me talking to you. Just from me almost kissing you.”

I bit my lip hard, trying to stay silent.

Josh pulled his fingers out, wiped them across my mouth, then pushed them past my lips. “Taste.”

I did. Salt and heat and me.

He shoved his sweatpants down just far enough. His cock sprang free, thick and already leaking. He dragged the head through my folds, coating himself, then pushed in with one long, relentless thrust.

The stretch burned in the best way. I choked on a moan. His hand clamped over my mouth instantly.

“Quiet,” he growled against my ear. “You make noise and I’ll stop. Understand?”

I nodded under his palm.

Josh started fucking me in deep, controlled strokes, each one bottoming out. The bed barely made a sound—he was being careful about that—but the wet slap of skin on skin still filled the space between us. His free hand pinned my wrist above my head. His mouth found my neck again, biting down over the mark he had left earlier.

“This is what happens when you walk around my house acting like you’re not mine,” he whispered harshly. “I remind you.”

I was already close. The angle, the pressure, the way he kept grinding against my clit on every thrust—it was too much. My thighs started shaking.

Josh felt it and laughed under his breath, mean and pleased. “Already? Pathetic. Come on your brother’s cock. Do it quiet.”

He drove into me harder, sharper, and the orgasm ripped through me so fast I saw white. My cry was trapped under his hand. My body clenched around him in helpless pulses. He didn’t stop. He fucked me straight through it, chasing his own release with short, brutal thrusts until he buried himself deep and came with a low, broken groan against my neck.

For a few seconds the only sound was our breathing.

Josh stayed inside me, forehead pressed to mine, gray eyes almost black in the dark.

“Next time you lock that door,” he said quietly, voice rough, “I’ll break it.”

Then he pulled out, fixed his sweatpants, and left as silently as he had arrived.

I lay there in the dark, legs still trembling, his cum already leaking out of me onto the sheets.

And the worst part was that I already knew I wouldn’t lock the door tomorrow night either.