♧First Taste

The rest of the evening dragged by in this weird, charged silence.

Damon barely looked at me after the delivery guy left. He ordered takeout, we ate at opposite ends of the massive dining table, and he even asked about my classes like some kind of decent human.

For a second it almost felt normal. Almost sweet, even, like the house was just a big empty place and we were two people stuck in it together.

But every time I shifted in my chair, I felt the pressure of his fingers.

The mark on my neck itched under my hair. I hated how much I kept replaying it.

By midnight I gave up trying to sleep. I lay in my bed in the dark, the big mansion creaking around me, and my hand slipped under the sheets before I could talk myself out of it.

My panties were already soaked again. I closed my eyes and remembered the way he’d pinned me, the filthy things he’d said, those rough fingers stretching me open.

My fingers circled my clit slowly, then faster. A soft moan escaped me. I bit my lip hard, but the ache wouldn’t stop.

I slid two fingers inside myself, pretending they were his, and rocked against my hand.

The bedroom door clicked open. I yanked my hand away like I’d been burned, heart slamming against my ribs.

Damon stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway light, wearing nothing but those low gray sweatpants. His eyes went straight to the way my legs were spread under the thin sheet.

“Couldn’t even make it one night without playing with that pussy, huh?” His voice was low, amused, and dark. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a soft click that sounded way too final.

“Get out,” I whispered, pulling the sheet up to my chest. My cheeks burned. He ignored me and walked closer, stopping at the foot of the bed.

“I’ve been thinking about how wet you were all evening. How tight you squeezed my fingers. And here you are, fucking yourself while thinking about your stepbrother. Pathetic.”

“I wasn’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, Kara.” He crawled onto the bed, slow and deliberate, like a predator who knew he’d already won.

The mattress dipped under his weight. He looked almost gentle for a second as he brushed a strand of hair from my face, thumb tracing my jaw.

“You don’t have to keep pretending you hate this. Not when we’re alone.”

His touch felt strangely soft after the kitchen. It made my stomach flip in a dangerous way. Then the smirk returned.

“Show me,” he said. “Show me how you were touching yourself.”

I shook my head, but my body betrayed me again, nipples tight, breathing shallow.

Damon grabbed the sheet and tugged it down. His gaze burned over my body in the faint moonlight coming through the window.

“Take your panties off.”

I hesitated at first. He waited, patient but unyielding. Finally I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and slid them down my legs. The cool air hit my soaked pussy and I shivered.

“Good girl.” He settled between my thighs, spreading them wider with strong hands.

“Now tell me the truth. You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”

I swallowed hard. “I… I hate you.”

He laughed softly and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to the inside of my thigh.

Then another, higher. “Hate me all you want. But your pussy is dripping for me.” He dragged his tongue up my slit in one slow, broad stroke and my hips jerked off the bed.

“Fuck…Damon…”

He did it again, slower, savoring. Then he closed his mouth over my clit and sucked.

The pleasure hit me so hard I grabbed his hair. He ate me like he was starving, messy, possessive, tongue flicking and circling while two fingers pushed back inside me, thrusting deep and rough.

I moaned louder than I meant to. He curled his fingers perfectly and the wet, obscene sounds filled the room.

Every time I was about cum, right on the edge of shaking apart, he slowed down or pulled back just enough to leave me whining.

“Please…” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

He lifted his head, lips shiny with me, eyes gleaming.

“Please what, Kara? Use your words.”

I tried to grind against his face but he pinned my hips down with one arm. “I need to cum. Please.”

“Not good enough.” He licked me again, teasing. “Call me brother while you beg. Admit you want your stepbrother’s mouth on this greedy little cunt.”

The shame burned through me, mixing with the heat until I couldn’t think straight.

His fingers kept moving, slow and deep, keeping me right there.

“I… I want it,” I gasped. “Please, brother… let me come. I need it so bad.”

Damon groaned against me, the vibration shooting straight through my clit. “That’s my girl.”

He attacked me harder, sucking my clit, fingers pumping faster, the flat of his tongue working me relentlessly.

My thighs started to tremble around his head. The pressure built fast and brutal. I was right there, right on the edge, muscles clenching… Headlights swept across my bedroom wall.

The low rumble of a car pulling up outside cut through the night.

We both froze. I was mid-orgasm, pulsing around his fingers, so close it hurt. Damon’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

“Shit,” he hissed. “That sounds like Dad’s car.”

My heart stopped. My body was still throbbing, teetering on the brink, but terror flooded in. If our parents came home early…

Damon didn’t pull his fingers out. He stayed between my legs, breathing hard, staring toward the window as another set of lights joined the first.