♧ Addicted to Damon

The message from Mom sat in my head like a ticking bomb. Three days.

We had three fucking days before everything blew up. I should’ve put distance between us.

Instead, I spent the rest of that afternoon letting Damon fuck me again in the shower, water pounding down on us while he pinned my wrists to the tile and took me from behind until I screamed.

By evening I was sore, marked up, and still craving more.

My hate had burned away completely. All that was left was this desperate, aching need for him.

He found me in the kitchen after dinner, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt.

I was loading the dishwasher when his arms came around me from behind, hands sliding under the hem.

“Bedroom,” I whispered.

“No.” His voice was low against my ear. “Dining room. Now.”

He bent me over the long mahogany table without another word.

The wood was cool against my cheek. He flipped the shirt up over my ass, kicked my legs apart, and shoved inside me in one hard thrust. I cried out, still sensitive from earlier.

“Fuck, you’re always so wet for me,” he groaned, spanking my ass hard enough to sting. He set a brutal pace, hips slamming against me, the table creaking under us.

Every thrust pushed me forward. His hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back.

“Whose pussy is this?” He slapped my ass again.

“Yours,” I moaned. “It’s yours, Damon.”

He reached around and rubbed my clit roughly until I came hard, clenching around him.

He followed right after, filling me again with a deep growl.

We barely cleaned up before he was dragging me upstairs to our parents’ forbidden master bedroom. The massive bed felt wrong and thrilling at the same time.

Damon threw me down on it, climbed on top, and fucked me slow and deep while staring into my eyes.

“Look at me while I ruin you in their bed,” he whispered.

His hand wrapped lightly around my throat, squeezing just enough to make everything feel sharper. I came again, shaking, completely lost in him.

Later that night he made me ride him on the couch in the living room.

He held his phone up, camera recording, while I sank down onto his cock.

“Ride it like you mean it, baby. I want this on video for when you try to deny how much you need your stepbrother’s dick.”

I should’ve been embarrassed. Instead I braced my hands on his chest and fucked him harder, moaning his name as he gripped my hips and thrust up to meet me.

The camera made it filthier and hotter. He spanked me, choked me lightly, told me how pretty I looked bouncing on him. I came so hard my vision went blurry.

By the next morning I was fully addicted. My body ached in the best way, covered in his bites and fingerprints, but every time he touched me I just wanted more.

He cornered me again that afternoon in the hallway, then once more in the library. Each time got rougher.

More creative. He’d whisper filthy promises about all the ways he was going to use me before our parents came back, and I believed every word.

That evening we didn’t even make it upstairs.

We were in the big sectional in the living room. I was completely naked, straddling his reverse cowgirl while he guided me up and down his cock.

He was so deep like this. I braced my hands on his thighs and rocked my hips, moaning every time he hit that perfect spot.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groaned, one hand spanking my ass, the other reaching around to rub my clit. “You’re such a good little slut for me now.”

I was close again, riding him faster, losing myself in the stretch and the heat and the way he filled me so perfectly. His dirty words pushed me closer.

“That’s it, Kara. Cream all over your brother’s cock…”

The front door suddenly unlocked with a loud click.

We both froze. I was balls-deep on him, dripping down his shaft, right on the edge of coming. Damon’s hand tightened on my hip.

Footsteps. Keys jingling. A vacuum starting in the foyer.

The housekeeper. Mrs. Alvarez. She wasn’t supposed to come until tomorrow.

“Oh shit,” I breathed, panic flooding me. I tried to climb off him but Damon held me down, still buried inside me to the hilt. His cock twitched.

“Shhh,” he whispered against my ear, voice dark and amused even now. “Don’t move.”

Mrs. Alvarez hummed to herself as she moved around the entrance, getting closer to the living room archway.

One wrong step and she’d see everything, me naked, impaled on Damon’s cock, his hands still possessively gripping my body.

My heart was hammered. My pussy clenched around him involuntarily.

He bit back a groan and slowly rocked up into me once, teasing, like the risk turned him on even more.

I pressed my face into the couch cushion to muffle my whimper.

The vacuum got louder and closer.