SIN SO SWEET

Lena's POV

God, if Thanksgiving was playing with fire, Christmas was straight out of hell, I thought we would learn our lesson, like be smarter or sneakier. But we didn't.

The second I saw Peter pull up to my parent's house in his truck, I felt that familiar aching, I realised my body missed him. He stepped out in a blue sweater that hugged his chest. The jeans didn't help in hiding how hard he already was for this game. He shot me that smirk through the window. Such a pervert. I was done for.

The house was even busier than the last time. The snowstorm didn't help. It kept everyone inside, cousins snuggled closely on the couches, kids eating sugar cookies in the corner, the tree blinking. Yay, it was Christmas. We exchanged gifts, played cards, and of course I won. I had to do everything to impress him. I spent the whole evening hyper-aware of him: The way he laughed, cutting through the noise, stealing, glancing at me like a prey. By dinner, I was expecting my red velvet dress feeling too tight, too hot.

Again, we ended up next to each on the couch after dinner, Uncle Fred left his blanket, bless him. We used it to cover over laps while everyone watched some cheesy holiday movie. All I could think of was Peter next to me. The room was dim, fire crackling, and Aunt Nancy was dozing off at the opposite couch.

Peter's hand found my thigh under the blanket, casual at first, like he was just resting it there. But then his fingers started moving up, and I could feel the roughness against my skin. I had skipped panties altogether this time, figuring why bother? Stupid? Absolutely. Thrilling? Fuck yes.

“You're driving me crazy,” I whispered, reaching for popcorn while I shifted closer.

He chuckled low, breath hot on my ear. “I know you love it. Spread your legs a little.”

I did, my heart beating fast. His fingers slid higher, parting my pussy lips, dipping in slow and teasing. I bit my lip, my eyes fixed on the screen like my life depended on it.

My little cousin was sitting on the floor in front of us, laughing at what the actors in the movie were saying. Mom was two seats away, sipping wine. Wild right?

Peter came closer again, voice low. “So wet already. You've been thinking about my cock all day, haven’t you? Imagine me bending you over right here?”

“I hissed, “Shut up,” but my hips betrayed me, whining against his hand. He slid in another finger, going deeper, his thumb rubbing my clit. The blanket hid everything, but every shift made it rustle. Enough to make me feel paranoid.

I came fast, too fast, holding down his fingers while I blocked a whimper with my fist. I pretended it was a cough because my Dad looked over. Peter just grinned, withdrawing his hand and sucking his fingers clean just like he did at Thanksgiving. Bastard, was he this obsessed with my pussy juice?

If I am being honest, that wasn’t enough for me. Or him.

Later, after most people have fallen asleep, kids in sleeping bags, uncles snoring. Peter texted me from across the room. Guest room. Now.

I went upstairs, my heart beating. The guestroom was at the end of the hall, I opened the door, creaky as hell. I barely closed it when he grabbed me, backing me against the wall, his mouth took mine. His hands were everywhere on my body, pulling up my dress, rubbing my ass, grinding his hard cock against me through his jeans.

“Fuck bitch, missed this creamy pussy,” He moaned, biting softly at my neck hard enough to leave marks I would have to hide tomorrow. “I'm gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

“Like hell I want to. Do it,”I gasped, fumbling with his belt. “But stay quiet, everyone's right down the hall.”

He turned me around, pressing my cheek to the cool wallpaper, rubbed my pussy one last time and shoved into me from behind in one rough stroke. I cried out. Too loud and he shut me with a hand over my mouth, the other holding my hip in place.

“Shh, baby,” he said, thrusting deep and fasting. “You want to wake the other? Want the whole family knowing how much you love your cousin’s cock fucking you senseless?”

The words sent fire through me. I moaned against his palm, pushing back to meet every move. We didn't use the bed, it was too risky, it creaked from any movement. So we stayed against the wall, his body pinning me, my nails scratching the paint, sweat rolling down our skin. The room smelled like sex.

His hand found my breasts, pinching my nipple through the dress, then sliding down to rub my clit fast and filthy. “Damn…you're creamy, come for me baby,” he demanded, voice breaking with pleasure. “Squeeze that tight little cunt around me. Imagine Aunt Nancy walking in right now seeing you like this, my cock inside you.”

The thought of that, the risk, the filth of it drove me nuts. I came violently, legs shaking, body convulsing, muffled screams against his hand. He followed seconds later, fucking deep and spilling his seeds inside me with a groan, hips jerking wildly.

We were both panting, foreheads pressed together, when it happened.

I heard footsteps in the hall. It was getting closer.

“Shit,” I whispered, eyes wide. Peter froze, still buried inside me.

The doorknob shook.

“Hey, is someone there?” It was my brother, he sounded sleepy and annoyed. “I need the extra blankets. Mom said they’re in the closet.”

Peter and I started panicking. He pulled out fast, cum dripping down my thighs. I pulled my dress down, he zipped up, both of us tidying up. Fuck. The room reeked of sex, my hair was a mess, my lips were swollen.

“Uh, yeah it's me,” I called, voice loud. “Just... changing. Gimme uhh a sec.”

Silence. Then. “Okay, hurry up. It’s fucking cold down there.”

Peter hid against the wall behind the door, it won't be noticed if it opened. I picked up a random sweater from the bed, acted like I just “finished changing,” and opened the door just enough to give him the blankets from the closet. My brother took them, yawning, not even looking twice. “Thanks Lena Night.”

The door clicked shut. I fell against it, my legs shaking. Peter stepped out, pulling me into his arms, both of us laughing silently.

“That was too close,” I said grinning. He kissed me slowly, tongue teasing. “Worth it. Easter?”

I hit his shoulder playfully. “You’re insane.”

But as I slipped back downstairs, thighs sticky and heart pounding, I knew I’d be there. Counting the days.

Some risks aren’t just addictive. They’re everything. And this one? It’s rewriting me, one forbidden fuck at a time.