Her Brother's Best Friend Claims Her First

I still get wet just thinking about that night, the way my pulse hammered when Damon finally said the words out loud. I was nineteen, still living under my parents’ roof, still technically untouched, and I’d been crushing on my older stepbrother’s best friend for years. Damon was twenty-two, cocky as hell, all hard muscle and that lazy smirk that made my thighs press together whenever he walked into a room. When my stepbrother threw a small house party while our parents were out of town, I told myself I was only going downstairs for a drink. I knew better. I wanted Damon to notice me.

The living room was dim, music low, a handful of people laughing near the kitchen. I stood by the couch in a little sundress that barely covered my ass, heart racing, when Damon cut through the crowd and cornered me against the wall. His body heat hit me first—broad chest, arms braced on either side of my head, the clean-sweat smell of him mixed with beer. He looked down at me like he’d already decided something.

“You keep looking at me like that, Rosa,” he said, voice rough, “and I’m gonna stop pretending I haven’t wanted to ruin you for years.”

I swallowed hard. “Ruin me how?”

His gaze dropped to my mouth, then lower, lingering on the way the dress clung to my tits. “I’ve jerked off thinking about claiming that virgin pussy of yours since you turned eighteen. Watching you bounce around in those little shorts, biting your lip every time I came over. You’re not subtle.” His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “Tell me I’m wrong.”