Addicted to Sin

I barely slept that night. Ben’s cum was still leaking out of me as I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Every time I shifted, I felt the soreness between my legs a delicious reminder of how my own brother had fucked me raw on the kitchen counter. Guilt gnawed at me, but it was drowned out by a deeper, darker hunger. I wanted more. Needed more. By the time the first light of dawn crept through the windows, I had given up fighting it. I was addicted to the sin.

I found Ben already awake in the bathroom, steam filling the shower. He didn’t...