All Chapters of Wet & Wicked: Forbidden Collection Of Lust: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Arthur’s POV~ It was the morning after she ran through the woods, and the cold had settled into the bones of the estate like a punishment none of us would ever admit we deserved. The sky above the garden was the color of bone, heavy with the promise of more snow. The ground was white and undisturbed except for the deep prints of Damian’s boots and the paws of his dogs where they had dragged her back into the house hours before. The mansion behind us was quiet in the way a house is quiet after something violent has happened inside it and everyone involved has agreed, silently, to pretend otherwise. Julian had locked her in the West Wing before dawn. Silas had gone to his study and shut the door. Felix had retreated to his room with a glass of whiskey and a lock on his door. Damian had taken the animals out past the treeline and had not come back inside yet. And I had not slept at all. I had spent the night in my library with the fire burning low, a stack of files in fron

Arthur’s PoV~ I carried her into the house through the side door of the east wing, and I did not take her back to the West Wing. She was still shaking in my arms. Her bare legs were locked around my waist, her tits were pushed up out of Damian’s shirt, and my cum was drying on her nipples from the snow. Her cunt was still leaking against my stomach, red, swollen, and soaked from my fingers, my slaps, and the orgasm I had forced out of her against that tree. I was still hard. My cock had not gone soft for one second. It pushed against my trousers, thick and heavy, the head leaking pre-cum into my boxers, because having her in my arms, marked with my cum and still begging for more, was the filthiest thing I had ever known. She was my brother’s stepdaughter. My niece in every way that mattered. And I had sucked her nipples, slapped her cunt, finger-fucked her in the snow, and emptied my balls on her tits like an animal. God forgive me. I was not sorry. I took her to my librar

Silas’s POV The lock clicked into place, and that small sound was the end of every lie I had ever told myself about being a good man. I stood inside the library with my cock hard inside my trousers, thick and hurting, the head leaking so much pre-cum that my boxers were soaked. Right in front of me was my stepdaughter. The girl I had raised since she was ten years old. The girl whose mother I had married for a contract and never loved. The girl I had wanted in the dark for years while I hated myself for it. Now she was on her knees on my rug, used, marked, and still begging for more. This was taboo. This was incest. This was my brother Arthur’s cum drying on her tits, my son Julian’s cum slick on her thighs, and her own cunt leaking onto my floor. And every man in this room had sinned alone last night in the dark, stroking our cocks to the thought of her while she slept behind a locked door. Now we were together, and the air was so thick with lust I could taste it. Art

Julian’s POV~ The library still smelled like sex and sweat and the sharp, filthy scent of too many men having used one girl. The fire had burned lower. The candles on the desk had melted down to stubs. On the rug in front of the table, Layla lay on her side, shaking, her body marked from head to toe with everything we had done to her. My father’s cum was drying on her inner thighs. Arthur’s release had crusted on her stomach. Damian’s seed still leaked from between the cheeks of her ass. Felix’s cum was smeared over her tits and her bitten nipples. And my own was still wet on her lips and chin from where I had made her clean my cock with her mouth. She looked broken. Not just used. Broken in a way that made my chest tight, because I knew her. I had known her since she was ten years old, running through these halls with scraped knees and a mouth that never stopped. I had heard her moan my name through a vent when she was eighteen and lonely and pretending she hated me. I

Layla’s POV~ Let me tell you something the five of them still do not know. They think I was framed. They think some stranger put a dead man in a room with my fingerprints, that I ran into the woods because I was scared, that they rescued me, ruined me, and claimed me like a pack of animals who finally stopped pretending to be men. They are wrong. All of it was me. Yes… me. And I’m not sorry for that. I put my own fingerprints on that glass. I called the tip in myself an hour before I ran. I made sure the body was found in the east wing where Silas would see it, where Arthur would handle it, where Damian would chase me, where Julian would catch me, where Felix would smile like he had been waiting his whole life for the feast to start. I did not run because I was afraid of prison. I ran because I wanted them to chase me. I have wanted this since I was twenty years old. Since Arthur first looked at me like I was more than a brat in his library. Since Silas married my mot