She looks up at me, eyes wide. “What now?”
I kiss her.
It’s slow at first, then hungry, then out of control. Her mouth opens for me, tongue slick and insistent, and I taste her, really taste her, for the first time. She whimpers, just a little, and presses closer, her pussy grinding against my thigh.
I back her to the wall, pinning her there, hands on her waist, her ass, her thighs. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails sharp. She bites my lip, and I feel it all the way to my toes.
“Oh,” she gasps, when we break.
“Yeah,” I agree.
We cling together, shivering, but not from the cold. It’s from arousal, and I feel it, my cock rock hard against her soft flesh.
After a while, she says, “Can we get warm?”
I nod, lift her out of the water, and carry her—still wet, still naked—back to the master bedroom.
Daisy wraps her arms around my neck, hair dripping down my chest, and buries her face against my skin.
“I feel safe with you, Hunter,” she whispers. “I don’t know why, but I do.”
My heart stutters. I want to say,You shouldn’t. You have no idea what deceptions I’m harboring.
But instead, I hold her tight and merely savor the taboo moment.
She’s my stepsister. She’s mine.
And I don’t care what happens next, as long as she stays right here.
I laythe beautiful blonde down on the king-sized bed, my arms never leaving her body. The sheets are white, high-thread-count, the kind that cost an arm and a leg, and Daisy’s skin looks even paler against them, like the world’s most beautiful ivory.
She shivers, still damp, so I slide in next to her and pull the comforter over both of us. She turns, tucking her head under my jaw, her hair wet against my chest. I feel the heat from her everywhere—on my thigh, my stomach, my dick, which is hard enough to punch through steel.
For a while, we just lie there, listening to each other breathe.
I don’t move. I don’t trust myself to.
But Daisy does. Her hand finds my chest, traces the line of my sternum, the edge of the tattoo I never got removed. She rubs her thumb over it, curious, then looks up.
“What’s it mean?” she asks.
“It’s Latin,” I say, staring at the ceiling. “It means ‘the end justifies the means.’”
She grins. “That’s dark.”
“I was a dumb kid.”
“I like it,” she says, and then kisses me, slow and sweet. Her tongue is shy at first, but then she grows bolder, and soon she’s on top of me, straddling me, hair dripping onto my chest.
She looks down at me, a goddess, then bites her lower lip.
“Is this okay?” she whispers.
I could lie. I could say no, that we should wait, that I have some moral compass left. But instead, I grab her hips, hard, and pull her down on top of me.
Our bodies fit, perfectly. Her tits are full and heavy, her nipples diamond-hard and wet, and when she grinds her cunt against my cock, the friction is so good it’s almost pain.
I roll us over, pinning her to the mattress. She squeals, but in a way that makes me want to ruin her forever.