Light filters through Kayla's curtains, painting golden streaks across her face as I blink awake. The pounding in my temples matches the rhythm of my heartbeat, a dull throb that reminds me of all that beer. But it's nothing compared to the insistent pressure between my legs. My morning wood pressing firmly against the soft warmth of her thigh.
Her eyes are already open, watching me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. Those green irises search my face like she's trying to read a complicated map, looking for something specific in the contours of my expression. We're still tangled together, her leg between mine, my arm draped across her waist, our faces inches apart on the same pillow.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken questions. I wonder if she's going to pretend nothing happened, a mistake never to be repeated or acknowledged. Part of me braces for rejection, for her to pull away and erect those walls again.
Instead, she brings her hand up to my face, fingers tracing the outline of my jaw with surprising tenderness.
"Do you remember last night?" she asks softly, her voice still rough with sleep. There's vulnerability in her question, a hint of uncertainty I rarely hear from my confident sister.
"Every second," I whisper, pressing my hips forward slightly to emphasize my point. "Every kiss. Every touch."
Her face falls, the softness in her eyes hardening into something else. Regret, shame, self-loathing. She pulls me against her chest suddenly, wrapping her arms around me so tightly I can barely breathe.
"I took advantage of you last night," Kayla whispers, her voice cracking. "I'm so sorry, Travis. You were drunk, and I... I should have known better."
The warmth of her embrace contradicts her words, her bare skin pressed against mine in a way that sends electricity through my veins despite my hangover. I can feel her heart racing, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.
"What? No," I protest, trying to pull back enough to see her face, but her arms tighten, keeping me locked against her. "Kayla, that's not what happened."
"You were wasted," she insists, her voice muffled against my hair. "I got you drunk, and then I... I kissed you. God, what kind of sister does that?"
I manage to create just enough space between us to look up at her face. Tears glisten in her eyes, threatening to spill over. The sight of them makes my chest ache.
"I wanted it," I say firmly. "I've always wanted it. You know that."
Kayla's expression darkens, her fingers digging into my shoulders with sudden intensity.
"You don't understand what you want, Travis," she says, her voice dropping to something dangerous and low. "You think you do, but you don't."
"Yes, I do," I counter, meeting her gaze without flinching. "I've wanted this for so long. You're the only thing that makes sense to me."
She shakes her head, those green eyes suddenly swimming with tears. "Travis, this path isn't for you. You need something safer, something normal." Her voice cracks on the last word. "Behind my eyes, I'm a monster. You don't see it, but it's there."
She rolls away from me suddenly, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to me. The early morning light traces the curve of her spine, the muscles in her shoulders tensing as she grips the edge of the mattress.
"I don't know how much longer I can hold back," she whispers. "Last night was just a taste. If we cross this line, there's no going back. I won't be able to stop myself from completely consuming you."
I sit up despite the throbbing in my head, crawling across the bed until I'm kneeling behind her. My arms wrap around her waist, my chin resting on her shoulder.
"Then don't hold back," I murmur against her ear. "Consume me. That's exactly what I…"
The rattle of a doorknob cuts through our moment like a knife, followed by the sound stopping abruptly against the lock. My heart jumps into my throat.
"Kayla? Why is your door locked?" Mom's voice filters through the wood, curious but not yet suspicious.
My eyes widen in panic, darting around the room at our discarded clothes and our nearly naked bodies. Kayla, however, remains completely calm. She places a single finger against my lips, her expression shifting from emotional vulnerability to cool confidence in an instant.
"Just a second, Mom," she calls out, her voice steady and casual as she slips from my grasp.
I scramble backward, yanking the blanket up to my chin while Kayla stands up without an ounce of self-consciousness. She strides toward the door in nothing but her black underwear, her athletic body hypnotic as it moves.
The lock clicks and Kayla pulls the door open just enough to reveal Mom standing in the hallway, already dressed for work in her usual professional attire. Mom's eyes immediately travel past Kayla to where I'm huddled under the covers, her expression hardening.
"You two weren't fucking, were you?" she asks bluntly, her scientist's directness on full display.
My stomach drops, but Kayla doesn't flinch. She meets Mom's gaze steadily, not a hint of guilt or shame in her posture.
"No," Kayla says firmly. "Last night, Travis got very drunk. His clothes were covered in beer. I had him sleep with me to make sure he didn't vomit in his sleep."
Mom studies her face for what feels like an eternity, searching for any sign of deception. Finally, her shoulders relax, relief washing over her features.
"Thank god," she sighs, reaching out to pat Kayla's head affectionately. Her eyes shift to me, softening with maternal concern. "Try not to be shirtless around your sister, okay Travis?"
I nod, swallowing hard. "Sorry, Mom."
She gives me a small smile before turning back to Kayla. "You're such a good sister. Always looking out for him." Her hand lingers on Kayla's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'm heading to the lab. There's breakfast in the kitchen if you want it."
"Thanks, Mom," Kayla says, her voice the perfect blend of dutiful daughter and responsible older sister.
As soon as the door closes, Kayla leans against it, exhaling slowly. For a moment, neither of us speaks, the close call hanging in the air between us.
"That was close," I finally whisper, letting the blanket fall to my waist.
Kayla laughs, a short, derisive sound as she pushes away from the door. "No, it wasn't," she says, shaking her head. "Mom hardly cares what we do as long as we don't fuck. Did you see how she just asked straight out? No shock, no horror, just checking off her one parental rule."
I nod. "True. She is a bit too easygoing at times."
"No shit," Kayla snorts, running her fingers through her short hair. "Sometimes I feel more like your mom than your sister."
I can't help but wiggle my eyebrows suggestively, my hangover momentarily forgotten as I see the opening she's given me. "Oh? Do you want me to call you Mommy then?"
Her eyes widen, cheeks flushing crimson as she stands there in just her underwear. I don't even try to hide where my gaze is traveling, across the perfect curve of her breasts, down to the sculpted ridges of her abdomen. God, those abs. The result of years of training, defined and powerful.
"What are you staring at?" she demands, crossing her arms defensively across her chest, though the movement only accentuates her athletic frame.
The words leave my mouth before I can think better of them. "Can I lick your abs?"
"No!" Kayla blurts out, the word explosive and sharp in the morning quiet. Her face transforms from desire to something harder, more controlled. "Stop fucking around, Travis. Get out and go get dressed."
I sit up straighter, letting the blanket pool around my waist. "But we're both free today," I point out, trying to keep my voice casual despite the sting of rejection. "No classes. We could just hang out."
"Well, just get out of my room," she snaps, though her eyes keep drifting back to my exposed torso, lingering on the lean muscles of my chest.
A smirk tugs at my lips as I catch her staring. "Are you just going to masturbate after I leave?" I ask, watching her face flush deeper red.
"Shut up, Travis!" she explodes, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at my head. "GO GET DRESSED! STOP BEING SUCH A GOD DAMN TEASE!"
I dodge the pillow, but her words hit harder than the soft projectile ever could. My smile fades into a genuine frown. "But I want to hang out. After last night, I thought…"
"There is no 'after last night,'" she cuts me off, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Last night was a mistake. I was... I wasn't thinking clearly."
I stand up, not bothering to hide my erection, tenting my boxers. "It wasn't a mistake to me," I say quietly. "Nothing about it felt wrong."
For a moment, something flickers in her eyes, longing, hunger, need, before she masks it with sisterly concern. "You don't understand what you're asking for," she says, her voice softening slightly. "This isn't some game, Travis."
I take a deep breath, straightening my posture and forcing my expression into something serious, deliberately avoiding the vibe crackling between us. The playfulness drains from my face as I meet her eyes directly.
"Kayla, I need you to understand something," I say, my voice lower and steadier than I expect. "Keep pushing me away like this, and I really will end up in the arms of someone else. Maybe Autumn. Maybe someone even worse."
Her eyes widen, pupils dilating so rapidly it's almost comical. Her gaze travels over me with such naked hunger that I feel physically touched by it. She opens her mouth to respond when we both hear the front door slam downstairs, followed by Mom's car engine starting in the driveway.
The sound of our mother leaving seems to flip a switch inside Kayla. Something feral replaces the hesitation in her eyes, something primal and possessive that makes my heart hammer against my ribs.
Before I can react, she lunges forward with startling speed. Her hands connect with my chest, shoving me backward with enough force that I bounce slightly when I hit the mattress. In an instant, she's on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head.
Pain shoots through my arms as her fingers dig into the delicate skin of my wrists, pressing them hard against the headboard. And god help me, it's absolute bliss. The weight of her body holding me down, the strength in her grip, the wild look in her eyes, it's everything I've been craving.
"You think I'd let you go to someone else?" she growls, her face inches from mine. "You think I'd ever let another woman touch what's mine?"
Her grip tightens further, sending fresh waves of pain-pleasure cascading through my nervous system. I gasp, arching beneath her despite myself.
"You have no idea what you're playing with," she continues, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I've been holding back for years, Travis. Years. You think those girls at the party were scary? I'm what they're afraid of."
She transfers both my wrists to one hand, her strength making it clear I'm not going anywhere unless she allows it. Her free hand grabs my jaw, forcing me to look directly into her eyes.
"You've been such a little slut," she hisses, her face contorted with a mixture of rage and desire. "Always pushing, always testing my limits. I've tried to be good, I've tried to protect you from this side of me, but you just won't stop."
"I'm done playing nice," she barks, her voice rough with emotion. "You want to see what happens when I stop holding back? Fine. You'll get exactly what you've been asking for."
I can see it happening, she's finally snapping, the careful control she's maintained for years crumbling before my eyes. This is everything I've wanted, but suddenly, I feel the need to play my role a little better.
"Get off me," I say, but my voice betrays me, filled with need rather than genuine protest. I buck my hips against her, feeling her weight shift as she straddles me.
Her eyes narrow dangerously. "You little brat," she growls, her fingers hooking into the waistband of my boxers. "Fighting only when you're getting exactly what you want."
She yanks my underwear down with such force that the fabric tears slightly. The cool morning air hits my exposed skin, making me gasp as my erection springs free.
Without breaking eye contact, Kayla reaches down and grabs her bolero jacket from where it lies crumpled on the floor. In one fluid motion, she twists the fabric into a makeshift rope.
She works quickly, binding my wrists to her headboard with surprising skill, tying knots that I couldn't hope to undo even if I wanted to.
"There," she says, sitting back to admire her handiwork. "Now you can pretend you don't want this all you like. But we both know the truth."
I test my restraints, finding them secure but not painfully tight. The position leaves me completely vulnerable, stretched out beneath her with nowhere to hide.
"I've been too soft on you," she growls. "Letting you parade around like you're available to anyone who wants you."
Her eyes burn with possessive fury as she straddles me, the heat of her body radiating through her underwear, where it presses against my exposed erection. I'm helpless beneath her, exactly where I've always wanted to be.
"My baby brother thinks he can tease me, then threaten to run off to some college slut?" She leans down, her face inches from mine. "Not happening."
In one swift motion, she tears off her underwear. My breath catches as she positions herself above me, her eyes never leaving mine.
"From now on, this is my job," she hisses, lowering herself onto me with agonizing slowness. "Keeping you satisfied so you don't become the campus whore."
The feeling of her sinking down on me is indescribable, tight, wet, hot, enveloping me inch by excruciating inch. A strangled sound escapes my throat as she takes all of me, our bodies joining completely for the first time.
"Holy fuck," I gasp, yanking against my restraints as pleasure courses through me like lightning. "Kayla…"
Her hand clamps over my mouth, silencing me as her hips begin to move. Pain flashes across her face for a moment. The realization hits me that neither of us have ever done this before. Her face quickly transforms into ecstasy.
"Quiet," she commands, her voice husky with desire. "You don't get to talk right now."
She starts to ride me with slow, deliberate movements, her body adjusting to the intrusion. Her inexperience is evident in the hesitant rhythm, but what she lacks in technique she makes up for with raw intensity. Her eyes never leave mine, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses my face.
"Look at you," she growls, gaining confidence with each roll of her hips. "So desperate for it. You'd have given this away to the first girl who smiled at you, wouldn't you?"
I shake my head frantically against her palm, but she just laughs, a dark sound that makes my cock twitch inside her.
"Liar," she hisses, picking up the pace. "I've seen how you look at other women. How you dress to get their attention."
She removes her hand from my mouth, replacing it with her lips in a bruising kiss. When she pulls back, her eyes are wild with possessive fire.
"But that stops now," she pants, her movements becoming more erratic as she finds her rhythm. "This is mine. You are mine."
The headboard slams against the wall as she rides me harder, her nails digging crescents into my chest. The pain mingles with pleasure in a cocktail so potent I feel drunk all over again.
"Say it," she demands, grinding down in a way that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours, Kayla. I've always been yours," I gasp, straining against my bonds. "I've known it from the moment I saw you. There's never been anyone else for me."
Her rhythm falters for a heartbeat, those green eyes widening in surprise before narrowing with fierce possession.
"Say it again," she demands, her voice breaking slightly as she grinds down harder.
"I'm yours completely," I whisper, holding her gaze. "Your brother, your responsibility, your property. I've always known I belong to you, Kayla. Only you."
Something breaks in her expression, the last thread of restraint snapping. Her movements become frantic, desperate. Her thighs begin to tremble against mine, her breathing ragged and uneven.
"Travis," she gasps, her back arching. "Oh god, Travis. I love you!"
Her entire body goes rigid above me, muscles tensing as pleasure overtakes her. She cries out my name like a prayer, her inner walls clenching around me in rhythmic pulses. The sight of her coming undone pushes me past the point of no return.
Heat explodes through my core as I thrust upward, my own release crashing through me like lightning. I empty myself inside her, our bodies locked together in shared ecstasy.
"Kayla," I moan, the sensation almost too intense to bear. "I love you, I love you so much."
She collapses against my chest, her forehead pressed to mine as aftershocks ripple through both our bodies.