Taboo Passions (Sylvia & Zach 1-3)

~Chapter 11~

She could feel it against her. That... growth in his pants.

She knew what it was, but her mind was flooded with mixed thoughts. If she gave up the struggle, that’d just draw more attention to it and embarrass him, wouldn’t it?

Sylvia understood from health class that he couldn’t really help it, it was just a thing that sometimes happened, so she didn’t want to call him out. So she stayed there, pinned as she was, squirming for the remote, though she had to admit it had taken on a stranger atmosphere. It was like when he first gave her the wine, like their relationship had just flipped somehow that she didn’t understand.

It just felt different.

Much like how that hand on her back wasn’t just the cruel act of pinning her tightly, his long fingers seemed to stroke and pet her. Treating her like a pleasant presence upon his lap, rather than the usual way he behaved; as if she were some pest to be gotten rid of.

“I’ll have it all Sunday anyhow,” he said in a low growl of a voice, and as feral as that sounded it was hard not to hear it as him taking pleasure in her captive position.

“That’s not fair,” she said, and she could hear the whine to her tone, but she didn’t care. She was confused, and stuck, and there was nothing she could do about either of those things. She looked up at him with her wide, blue eyes, hoping that’d move him to pity.

~Chapter 12~

There was no saying what did it, the wine, the position, that look in her eyes… hell, that had to be at least part of it. But whatever it was, it all coalesced to make him say something he shouldn’t have.

With a slow lick of his full lips, he stared down at her, meeting that blue gaze straight on.

“Maybe you should do somethin’ for me then,” he said in a gravelly, masculine voice, though as brazen as it was, he had no idea how he’d follow that up. He was running on pure, barely filtered desire thanks to the wine lowering his inhibitions.

And the mental image of her writhing on top of her bed...

She looked at him, cocking her head slightly. She looked so innocent as she tried to piece together what he meant.

Her brows knit in the center, and she finally opened her pouty lips to speak. It was like time was standing still between them, and his heart was racing, his cock throbbing as he waited what she was going to say.

“Like what?”

Simple enough question, but a lot harder to answer.

“I dunno,” he said, and using his raw strength he tore the remote from her grasp entirely to hold it out of her reach. He looked so nonchalant about it all, so casual as he held her there. “Maybe you should just be my lil’ pet slave for a while,” he offered, not even looking at her. “Since you can’t think of anything.”

She squirmed again, clearly hoping that his hold would’ve loosened with his motions, but instead he kept her pinned with more strength as he let the remote clatter to the floor.

Her eyes widened, hand going to the armrest to hold herself up, but it was so precarious, and her loose fitted t-shirt was slipping down further the more she squirmed. Just a couple more seconds and he might be able to get a glimpse of those sweet treats she’d always kept hidden. He could already tell she wasn’t wearing a bra with how her nipples poked out just slightly.

“I already do, like, all of the housework, you lazy jackass,” she said, but Zach swore there was a little bit of a growl to her words. Something more primal than her usual princess-like tone.

“Not chores,” he growled back in return, the two of those hormone-fueled teens like animals. “We’ve got the place to ourselves for a while, so we could get more creative than just some dumb ass chores, don’t you think, sis?”

He was all teeth as he grinned down at her, holding her captive atop his throbbing manhood.

He could see the gears churning behind her eyes. She had to feel his stiffy. It was pressed right against her lower belly, and he was a big guy. Tall and broad, with a cock to match. She’d had to have felt it throbbing, for minutes now, but she hadn’t said a peep about it.

She just kept squirming against it.

He stared at her, his features feral, wondering what she’d do next.

~Chapter 13~

Oh God, she thought, and she couldn’t help it. She tried once more, in vain, to squirm away from him.

She’d never thought of her brother like that before. He’d always just been a jerk to her. But now he was staring down at her like he’d just issued her a dare and refusal wasn’t an option. But what did he mean, more creative?

And why did he just keep getting harder?