Risking Everything

Jace’s cock was still buried to the hilt inside his stepsister when Vanessa’s voice floated up from the foyer like a goddamn foghorn of doom. “Kids? I’m home early! Traffic was a miracle!” Lila’s eyes went saucer-wide, her pussy fluttering around him in pure panic-arousal. They were naked as the day they were born—well, born separately, thank Christ—perched on a dusty mattress in the attic, surrounded by boxes of forgotten Christmas ornaments and one extremely incriminating charcoal sketch of teenage Lila’s tits that had started this whole mess.

Jace clapped a hand over her mouth before she could squeak. His other hand stayed locked on her hip, holding her impaled. Twenty-eight years of brooding tattoo-artist self-control were currently losing a cage match to the fact that his twenty-two-year-old stepsister’s cunt was still clenched around him like it had a personal grudge against blue balls. Downstairs, keys clattered into the bowl. Footsteps. Vanessa humming some awful pop song.

“Don’t you fucking move,” he breathed against Lila’s ear, but the little literature nerd had never obeyed a single order in her life. She rolled her hips in a tiny, filthy circle, grinding her clit against the base of his cock. Her whisper was pure wickedness. “I don’t want to stop. We’re already screwed if she finds us. Might as well get screwed properly.”

Jace’s laugh came out strangled. “You’re insane.” But he was already pulling back an inch and sliding home again—short, wet, dangerous strokes that made the old mattress sigh. Every thrust was a risk. Every wet sound felt loud enough to summon the ghost of every disappointed parent ever. He kept his palm sealed over her mouth while she moaned into it, eyes sparkling with the same bold heat that had gotten her through three years of grad seminars on forbidden desire in Victorian novels. Turns out the real curriculum was right here, balls-deep in the attic while Mommy Dearest unpacked groceries two floors down.

“God, I’ve wanted this since you were eighteen and I was pretending not to notice you sunbathing in that microscopic bikini,” he whispered, hips snapping quietly. “Jerked off thinking about bending my stepsister over every piece of furniture in this house. You?”

Lila licked his palm and mumbled against it, then tugged his hand just enough to speak. “Since the summer you got that first sleeve. Watched you ink yourself in the bathroom mirror and came so hard I saw stars, imagining you pinning me down and calling me your dirty little secret. Vanessa would lose her actual mind.” She pushed back to meet his next thrust, taking him deeper. “Keep going. Please. The risk is making me dripping.”

He did. Short, punishing strokes, the head of his cock dragging over that swollen spot inside her that made her thighs shake. They whispered filth like confessions in a church built for sin. How many times she’d fingered herself after family dinners, pretending the napkin in her lap was his tongue. How many client tattoos he’d ruined because he kept flashing back to the time she’d “accidentally” walked in on him showering and stared a beat too long. The taboo of it—stepsiblings, same roof, Vanessa’s footsteps now creaking on the stairs—cranked everything hotter. Jace felt his orgasm coiling low and mean. Lila’s pussy was fluttering, greedy.

“Turn around,” he growled, barely audible. They scrambled, nearly knocking over a box of old yearbooks. He bent her over a stack of storage tubs, yanked her hips back, and sank in from behind in one smooth shove. Lila bit down on a faded throw pillow, muffling the broken moan that tried to escape. Jace fucked her hard and shallow, the wet slap of skin the only soundtrack under Vanessa’s cheerful “Hello? Anyone home? I brought Thai!” from the second-floor landing. His hand cracked lightly across Lila’s ass—quiet enough, he hoped—and she pushed back greedier, taking every thick inch.

“That’s it, ride it back on your big stepbrother’s cock,” he hissed. “Gonna fill this forbidden cunt while Mom’s right downstairs. You want that? Want me to cream you so deep it leaks through dinner?”