DON'T MAKE A SOUND

**Chapter 1**

The door to my bedroom barely clicked shut before Josh’s hand was in my hair, yanking my head back so hard my scalp burned.

“Quiet,” he growled against my ear, voice low and rough. “Mom’s still downstairs. You make a fucking sound and I’ll stop. Understand?”

I nodded as much as his grip allowed. My heart was already hammering. This was wrong. So wrong. He was my stepbrother. We lived under the same roof. Sarah was only one floor away. And still my thighs pressed together, already wet.

Josh spun me around and shoved me face-first against the wall. His body crowded mine, hard and hot. One hand stayed fisted in my hair while the other dragged my sleep shorts and panties down in one harsh pull. Cool air hit my bare ass and the slick seam between my legs.

“Already dripping,” he muttered, almost angry about it. Two thick fingers shoved inside me without warning. I choked on a moan. He curled them hard, rubbing that spot that made my knees buckle. “Fucking soaked for your brother. Disgusting little slut.”

I pushed back onto his hand anyway. He laughed under his breath, mean and pleased.

“Look at you. Can’t even pretend you don’t want it.”

He pulled his fingers out, wiped them across my mouth, then forced them past my lips. I tasted myself. Salt and heat. His other hand left my hair only long enough to shove his sweatpants down. The heavy weight of his cock slapped against the small of my back, thick and already leaking.

Josh kicked my feet wider apart. The blunt head of him dragged through my folds, smearing wetness everywhere. Then he slammed in.

The stretch burned. He was big—too big—and he didn’t give me time to adjust. One brutal thrust buried him to the root. My mouth opened on a silent scream. He clapped a hand over it, pressing hard.

“Take it,” he snarled against the side of my neck. “Every fucking inch. You’re mine. Say it.”

I couldn’t speak with his palm sealed over my lips, so I nodded frantically. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, hips cracking against my ass. The wet sound of it filled the quiet room—obscene, filthy, impossible to mistake.

He set a ruthless pace, fucking me into the wall. Every thrust punched the air from my lungs. My cheek scraped the paint. His free hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, yanking me back to meet every stroke.

“Feel that?” he panted, voice rough with effort. “That’s your brother’s cock splitting you open. You love it. Your cunt’s sucking me in like it never wants me to leave.”

I did. God, I did. The burn had melted into pure, filthy pleasure. My walls clenched around him every time he bottomed out. The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder. I could hear how soaked I was, how easily he was using me.

Josh shifted, angling higher. The new angle dragged the head of his cock over that swollen spot inside me on every stroke. My legs started shaking. He felt it and laughed again, low and dark.

“Already close? Pathetic. Come on my cock like the dirty little stepsister you are.”

His hand left my mouth so he could pinch my clit—hard. The sharp pain shot straight through me and I came, biting down on my own forearm to stay silent. My pussy fluttered and squeezed around him in helpless pulses. He didn’t slow down. He fucked me through it, relentless, chasing his own release while I trembled and dripped down my thighs.

When the aftershocks faded he pulled out suddenly. I barely had time to miss the fullness before he spun me, shoved me to my knees, and fed his cock into my mouth.

“Clean it,” he ordered. “Taste how wet you got for me.”

I sucked, messy and eager, tasting both of us. He held my head with both hands and fucked my throat in short, shallow thrusts until his cock twitched and he came with a low, broken groan. Hot ropes of cum flooded my mouth. I swallowed what I could. The rest spilled over my lips and chin.

Josh pulled free, breathing hard. He looked down at me—kneeling, mouth shiny, thighs still shaking—and something almost soft flickered in his eyes before it vanished.

“Good girl,” he murmured, thumbing a streak of cum from my bottom lip and pushing it back into my mouth. “Next time I’m not covering your mouth. I want Mom to almost hear what her perfect daughter sounds like getting ruined by her brother.”

He tucked himself away, opened the door just enough to check the hallway, then slipped out like nothing had happened.

I stayed on the floor, pulse still racing, cunt still twitching, the taste of him thick on my tongue.

And the worst part—the part that made my stomach twist with shame and heat—was that I already wanted him to come back.