All Chapters of Forbidden Cravings (Short Sweet Novel): Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I didn’t stop. My fingers kept pumping into my cunt, wet and loud, while Blake stared at me from the edge of the bed. His fist never slowed. Precome still leaked over his knuckles in thick, shiny strings. The look on his face was pure hunger, dark 'n focused, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Come here,” he said. I walked on wobby legs. The second I was close enough he grabbed my wrist, yanked my soaked fingers out of my pussy, and shoved them into his mouth. He sucked them clean, tongue working between each one, eyes locked on mine the whole time. Then he spun me around, shoved me face-down onto the mattress, and flipped my dress up over my back. Cool air hit my bare ass and dripping cunt. I felt how exposed I was—legs slightly apart, pussy swollen and shiny, still clenching around nothing. Blake’s hand came down hard on my ass. Once. Twice. The sharp sting made me jump and moan at the same time. He spread me open with both thumbs, staring straight at my hole.

I woke up with my pussy throbbing. My thighs were sticky, Jake’s cum from last night had dried all over me and leaked out while I slept. I could smell sex on my sheets. My nipples were still sore from where he had sucked them hard. I lay there for a minute remembering how he pounded me, how I called him my stepbrother while he filled me up. The disgusting words. My hand slipped between my legs without thinking, rubbing my swollen clit, but I stopped. No. Mom and dad were already moving around downstairs. Breakfast smells were coming up. I grabbed clean clothes and headed to the bathroom. The second I turned the shower on and stepped in, the door opened. Jake slipped inside, locking it behind him with a smirk written on his handsome face. He was only in boxers, his cock already pushing against the fabric, hard and ready. “Jake, no,” I whispered, water running down my tits. “They’re right downstairs. Mom’s probably making eggs or something.” He didn’t listen. He stepped under the wat

A Quick Engagement Check ❣️✨Hello, lovely readers! ❣️✨ Your writer here 👋👋The purpose of this chapter is simply to conduct a quick engagement check and see who is still following along at this point in the story.I’ll be doing this from time to time, to time, throughout the book to keep track of our active readership and see how many of you are still here with me. ❤️If you’re still reading, please leave a like below so I can get an idea of how many of us are still on this journey together. ❣️❣️Thank you so much for your continued support! 😊❤️

I groaned when mom told us the seating arrangement. The SUV was packed with bags for the week-long cabin trip. Dad driving, mom in the passenger seat, and me and Jake stuck sharing the back row because the middle was full of coolers and suitcases. Six hours on the road. Great. I was still sore from yesterday. My ass had faint belt marks under my shorts and my pussy felt used. I climbed in first and slid to the window side. Jake got in after me, taking up most of the space like usual. He was wearing basketball shorts and a hoodie. I had on loose cotton shorts and a tank top. As soon as we pulled onto the highway, he gave me this little smirk that made my clit water. The first hour was normal. We listened to music, mom and dad talking about work stuff up front. Jake’s leg pressed against mine because there wasn’t enough room, but after a while he reached behind the seat and grabbed the big blanket we used for road trips. “It’s cold with the AC blasting,” he said loud enough for

The apartment feels too quiet suddenly after I get home. I strip out of the skirt and blouse the second the door locks behind me, leave them in a heap, and crawl into bed still wearing the wet panties. My fingers find the sticky mess he left between my legs and I push two of them inside myself, chasing the stretch he gave me in the alley. It isn’t enough. I keep seeing the black mask every time I close my eyes. Keep feeling the way he held me against the brick, like he owned me. I come once, sharp and unsatisfying, then again slower, grinding against my own hand thinking of his masked face, until my wrist aches. Still empty. I fall asleep with my thighs sticky and my heart racing, half-hoping the door will open, half-terrified it will. It does. Sometime past three. No knock. Just the soft click of the lock and then he’s in the doorway of my bedroom, silhouette cut against the hall light. Same black mask. Same dark eyes. He’s already hard, I can see the thick line of his