My stepbrothers seduction

The aftermath

*Mature content*

She hated him. And she could already feel that she was about to hate him more than she already did.
Why?
That was because in just weeks, he had made her become everything she had never imagined she would become.
Angry, petty.
Very childish.
And now… extremely horny.

Adria made sure to lock her door before throwing her bag onto the bed.
She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to what had just happened.
She closed her eyes, and the image of her naked brother appeared in her mind.
She growled in discomfort and frustration.
Was she ovulating?
Probably she was. If not, what the f**k was she doing getting turned on by the sight of her naked brother…
Stepbrother.

She was determined to get her sanity back. But her body didn’t seem to agree.
She hated him. She wanted to make herself believe that.

Her stomach tightened. The air around her felt thick, heavy with something unspeakable.

Adria started undressing halfway through the bathroom.
“A warm bath would bring back my sanity,” she said to herself, wanting to believe it.

She looked at herself in the mirror, completely naked.
The mirror showed her flushed face, eyes a little too wide, lips parted in disbelief… and something else.
Her skin tingled. Her chest rose and fell fast as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

Adria ran the water, hoping the bath would drown her thoughts, her nerves, her… everything. The steam climbed quickly, fogging up the glass, but it didn’t calm her. If anything, the warmth only woke up something deeper.
Made her more aware of the way her thighs pressed together.
The way her skin prickled with tension. The way her chest rose and fell faster than it should have.

She sank into the tub, letting the water rise to her collarbone. Her arms wrapped around herself, but it wasn’t for comfort. It was to keep her hands from moving. From slipping lower.

But it didn’t help.
All she could see was Nathan—his muscles flexing as he moved on that girl… whatever her name was.
Her breath grew shallow.
The water suddenly felt too close, too confining. She stood, wrapped herself in a towel, and padded down to her bedroom, her legs unsteady.

She locked her door and leaned against it for a moment, eyes closed. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. Her whole body felt like it was vibrating.
It wasn’t just curiosity. Maybe it was, though…
But it wasn’t lust for her stepbrother, no.
She didn’t like him.
She hated his guts.

It was just the hormones.
Just the hormones, nothing more. She consoled herself with those thoughts as she went to her bed and lay on it, her towel wrapped tightly against her chest.

When she slightly opened her thighs, the towel gave way for her hands.
She was hesitant. It was embarrassing.
She wasn’t used to this. And not only that, she was very much aware of what it meant.

Thank goodness no one could read minds or see through people.
How would she face him after that?
Would he know?

The truth was, she couldn’t care less at that moment.
She reached for her lamp switch and turned it off.
She was already as embarrassed as it was.

Her legs shifted under the towel. Her hands slid along her thighs, slow and unintentional, but she lingered.
What would it feel like, if it were him?
Would he touch her just as he did that girl?

Her breath hitched, and her fingers paused—but only for a second.
The softest sound escaped her lips, barely a whimper, as her body responded to the thought of him. She tilted her head back against her pillow, her lips parting as heat curled low in her belly.

Her breaths came in short bursts as she let her hand drift across her stomach, tracing invisible paths, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.
She let the images flood her mind—bad images.
She was totally clad.

She sighed with pleasure as her hand found her p***y. It was hot and wet, and wanting.
She threw her head back as she rubbed her fingers, now wet, against her folds.
She bit her lips, the feeling exciting and beautiful. She didn’t do it often. And the few times she had done it, she didn’t reach orgasm.
She always got distracted.

Today she was determined not to.
Adria marveled at how wet she was. She had never been that soaking wet and wanting.
She slid her fingers against the wetness, finding her clit.

Adria gasped hard as her fingers found the most sensitive spot on her body.
Right there in between her legs.
She rubbed it gently, and she felt the feeling growing in her stomach. It twisted as heat engulfed her body.

She shouldn’t moan, not loudly.
As she bit her lips harder, she heard it.
She heard Nathan’s grunt.
She hated that they shared walls. She’d hated it when they gave them rooms so close. Did they want them to murder each other?

But for the first time, she liked it. She loved that he was there. That she could hear him.
And for some messed up reason, hearing the girl’s moans did something to her.
He was that good, wasn’t he?

Her mouth parted as soft, breathy gasps spilled into the silence of the room as she rubbed on herself faster now, her eyes squeezed shut with the images of her stepbrother and his girlfriend fucking.
Her thighs clenched, and her hand moved with more purpose now, guided by nothing but instinct and want.

She whimpered again, louder this time, arching ever so slightly as a rush of sensation stole her breath.
It felt so f*****g nice.
And she wanted more.
She wanted to reach her high.

Adria slid a finger into her p***y, and her breath hitched. She was so wet, and it was dripping down the bed.
Her p***y clenched around her fingers at the sudden invasion.
“f**k,” she moaned.

She went in and out slowly, enjoying the bloom of sensation she felt.
Loving the sounds her actions caused, how the wetness sounded.
Her back arched with each wave, each imagined touch, each thought of the one person she shouldn’t want but couldn’t stop thinking about.

Instinctively, her fingers went faster, desperately wanting to satiate her need.
And the more she reached, the more the need intensified.
Her skin was damp with heat—she had just taken her bath.

Her fingers curled. Her hips shifted restlessly beneath the sheets, trying to catch up with the thrusting of her own fingers.
Every nerve in her body tightened, building toward something bright and unbearable.
She went faster again, and with each wave, her thighs closed together, unable to take the whispering fire that threatened to take her to a bloom of flames and a dizzying tide.

Her body shuddered as her eyes turned glassy, chest rising and falling in jagged breaths.
Her breath stuttered—once, twice—before everything unraveled.
A soft, broken moan left her lips as her body trembled and then went still.

Her skin tingled from the inside out, and her cheeks were still flushed from the heat—not of the bath, but of everything she had just done.
Silence rang throughout the room.
Deafening silence.

Finally, she opened her eyes. She looked up to the ceiling of her room, her breath still ragged and short.
Shame crept in slowly, dull and heavy, but it was no match for the ache that still lingered in her chest.

She rolled onto her side, pulling the sheets around her, staring into the darkened corners of her room.
She didn’t want this. She didn’t ask for it.
Because it was so f*****g wrong.
It was the most stupid thing she had done.
A very shameful act that no one should find out about.

Immediately, Adria made a promise to herself that she would never tell anyone about this. She would take it to her grave.
She hoped this wouldn’t happen again.

She hated how pleasant she found his body—not him, just his body.
He needed to leave.
Wasn’t he, like, done with school?
Wasn’t he supposed to be working or something? Or being busy with life?

Adria frowned as she remembered her father’s words.
None of them would leave until they were on good terms.

That meant they would have to do something about that.
They had to reach an agreement that would help both of them.

With the thought of that still in her mind, Adria drifted into deep sleep.