Marriage with His Uncle!

Shameful desire

Suddenly, Luther’s hands moved from my face to the buttons of my shirt, and with a swift, shocking movement, he undid the top one. A jolt of panic shot through me, so intense it was almost a thrill. The maids were just a few feet away, their footsteps sounding like thunder right above our heads. If one of them were to look down, they would find us in this shameful, forbidden dance of pleasure, and yet I did nothing to stop his wandering hands.

He undid another button and then another, his fingers working with a practiced speed that left me breathless. He slipped his hand inside my shirt, his palm warm against my skin. With a gentle push, he pulled down my bra and cupped my breast, his thumb rolling over my hardened n****e. A moan almost escaped my lips, a sound I quickly muffled against his mouth.

In response to his touch, I ground my hips against his, loving the feel of his rigid c**k against the soft fabric of my skirt. It was a silent, desperate conversation, a promise of a pleasure I had never fantasized about before. The world outside of our small, dark hideaway disappeared, replaced by a consuming fire that burned away all my fear and shame.

Finally, the footsteps faded into the distance. The women had descended the stairs and disappeared, leaving Luther and me in the shadows, still locked in our debauched embrace. The moment they were gone, his hand, which had been so cautiously placed, began to wander with a new, uninhibited freedom. He ripped my shirt open, the buttons popping and flying in every direction, and I didn’t even flinch.

He didn't bother to unclasp my bra; instead, he simply pulled it down and latched on to one of my n*****s, his mouth a hot brand against my skin. With his other hand, he rolled the other n****e between his fingers, a silent torture that made me gasp for air, finally giving me a moment to breathe after that passionate, suffocating kiss, the raw, primal heat that consumed us both.

I didn't dare to moan, fearing that even a small sound would reach the ears of the maids still lurking somewhere on the ground floor. It was pure torture, keeping the sounds of my pleasure trapped in my throat as his mouth worked its magic. His tongue swirled around my sensitive n****e, pulling it deeper into his mouth before he sucked harder, a rhythmic tug that sent a throbbing sensation through me, a feeling I never knew existed.

He finally left my n*****s with a wet pop, a sound way too loud for my liking, but the moment his lips found mine again, all thoughts of complaint turned to dust on my tongue. The kiss was a silent, desperate symphony of touch and taste, and I was completely lost in it.

This time, as he kissed me, his hands moved from my chest to the hem of my skirt. He slowly raised it, his touch a teasing trail up my thighs until his hands disappeared into the soft fabric. My breath hitched in my throat as his fingers brushed against my panty-clad p***y. I bit my lip hard to keep a loud moan from escaping. He touched me through my panties, his fingers teasing and torturous, his masterful touch manipulating my body to his will.

I was so wet from his touch that it was embarrassing. I could feel myself dripping, and the heat between my thighs was a fiery ache. I couldn't take it anymore. I finally caved and rolled my hips against his fingers, a silent plea for more. And he gave me what I wanted. He pulled my panties to the side and touched me in a place he shouldn't be touching. The forbidden nature of it all clouded my mind, making me act on a desire I knew was wrong. But neither of us cared.

We had already crossed every boundary with that first kiss, so what was the point of holding back now? We lost the chance to turn back the moment our eyes met in the darkness beneath the stairs. We could have looked away, dismissed the electric charge between us, but we chose to dive in headfirst—or should I say, tongue-first?

Luther shuddered as his fingers made contact with my wet cunt, his body tense with a shared urgency. He wasted no time, diving two fingers inside, a silent acknowledgment that we had no time to spare. Any moment, someone else could come down the stairs. My future mother-in-law could return. We had to act fast, our bodies moving with a desperate, primal rhythm.

This was dangerous. This was wrong. And yet, neither of us cared in the white-hot heat of the moment. I knew, deep down, that I would regret this. I knew that the consequences of this forbidden act would come back to haunt me. But I still spread my legs, giving him the space to move his fingers into me freely.

Luther wasted no time, twisting his fingers and swirling them around, his touch so expertly soft yet firm that I nearly cried out. He found my clit from inside, his movements precise, coaxing me to the edge of pleasure and making me drip even more. It was glorious, but it wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed that hard, throbbing c**k that I had felt against me earlier, that thick, heavy heat that would rearrange my insides.

"f**k me, Luther," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I want to feel your c**k inside me."

His eyes darkened, and in one fluid, powerful motion, he scooped me up, forcing me to wrap my legs around his ridiculously big frame. He unfastened his pants, and without taking them off, he pulled out his c**k. I didn't dare to look down, but I could feel the burning heat of his tip, the scary throb of his veins, and the thickness of his c**k sliding against my folds. I gulped, a knot of fear and anticipation tightening in my stomach. He felt so big, I was scared he would rip me apart. Thankfully, my body was more than ready.

He stopped his teasing rub, pulled my panties more to the side, and slipped in slowly, a torturous pace that made me gasp. He relished in the feeling of my cunt gulping him in, a perfect, tight fit that stretched me to my limits. I threw my head back, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a cry. It felt so good inside me that I could c*m just from the sheer force of his entry.

Luther moved my hand away from my mouth, his lips finding mine again. He forced his tongue into my mouth at the same slow rhythm he thrusted his c**k into me, his lips bruising mine, and his tongue searching for mine. He paused when he was fully in, a low groan escaping his throat as he took a moment to feel my walls pulsating around his throbbing c**k before pulling back and slamming into me.

A gasp turned into a choked sob as I bit his lip, drawing blood as I felt an immense wave of pleasure course through my veins. Luther didn't care as the metallic, tangy taste of blood mixed with our saliva, and he continued his brutal, perfect rhythm.

No, no, no, we didn't care. Not about any of it. Not about the wrongness of our actions, not about my future mother-in-law, and not even about the faint sound of Nash's voice calling out to his mother from the second living room connected to the hallway we were in. The voice grew louder, closer, and with every step he took, Luther's lips came down on mine with a feverish intensity, his hips slamming into me harder and faster. The rhythmic pounding of his body against mine was in perfect sync with the frantic beat of my heart, the forbidden pleasure amplifying the danger.

My hands clutched his shirt, my nails digging into his back as he thrust into me with a raw, savage force. The risk was insane, but the rush was even more so, a potent mix of fear and ecstasy. I wanted to scream, to cry out, to moan his name, but I couldn't. I had to stay silent, had to keep the secret of our shameful union hidden. And then, just as I was on the verge of breaking, of giving in to the overwhelming pleasure, Nash turned the corner.

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