My chest rose and fell harder and harder, the sponge rubbing down the inside of my thigh, and I gripped it, seeing him watching me in my mind. Making him watch what he’d never do to me, and what I could get on my own.

I grabbed a breast, feeling its round, perfect shape and squeezing it, then tearing my hand away and making it bounce.

Dropping the sponge, I cupped myself between my legs and rolled my head, slipping a finger inside me and moaning.

What did he see when he looked at me? Did he want it? Did he want his mouth on me and his hands on my eager skin, sweaty in my sheets as he fucked me with my sister out of town?

Or did he want his little dancer to perform for him? To make him come but never get me dirty.

Growling under my breath, I slid my body up, hooked my legs over the end of the tub, and adjusted the nob, making the thick stream of water a slow dribble and less hot.

The little flow of water fell down out of the faucet above, hitting my clit positioned below, and I let out a whimper, my body immediately convulsing with pleasure.

I didn’t have any control here, though. I wanted to fuck. Gripping both sides of the tub, I pulled myself up onto the rim, my legs still dangling over the side as I got closer to the stream, positioning myself right under it.

The water hit me, pounding my little clit, and I opened my mouth, letting out a groan as I rolled my hips into it. The air tickled my skin as I jutted out my breasts and rode it harder and faster, getting tapped and teased by the little stream.

The flesh of my nipples grew taut, and I wanted a mouth. I wanted to be kissed and sucked, and I needed exactly what Will said I needed.

I spread my legs wider, baring my pussy as I strained the muscles in my legs and arm, masturbating myself on the water.

He watched me. Did he like it?

I whimpered and moaned, feeling the pressure rise inside me as my body begged to be filled. Moving my ass faster, I grabbed the fishhook faucet like it was his head, fucking harder and breathing in and out, deeper and louder.

“You’re not the boss,” I gasped, taunting him. “Not the boss of me. Little sister does anything she wants. Whoever she wants. You’re not my daddy.”

My orgasm crested, I shook and jerked harder, and then I threw my head back, heat coming out of my pores and pleasure wracking through my whole body like sparks.

“Ah, fuck,” I cried out. “Fuck.”

Every muscle tightened as it coursed through my body, and even though I burned with the strain of my position, I’d come so good I wanted to cry.

I stayed like that for almost a minute, letting myself calm down, before I lowered myself back into the tub.

I hated him. He was everything bad that happened to me.

But he was the only time—other than dancing—that I felt alive, too.

Being with him was like dancing. Dancing with death.

After a few more moments and the room had fallen quiet again, I hugged my knees to my chest again.

“I know you’re there,” I told him to wherever he was standing in the room. Where I always knew he was standing, because the house was heavy, it was too quiet, and I could smell the cloves on his clothes, the fountain on his skin, and the hot on his breath.

“And now you know…” I said, “I always close my eyes when I come.”

In high school, he’d asked if I closed my eyes in pleasure, and now he had his answer.

He didn’t move, and neither did I. I no longer cared. I was tired of wondering what he’d do. Now he was wondering what I could do.

This was a game to him, and that was fine.

He just wasn’t the only one playing anymore.

Damon

Present

I leaned over the bathtub, my hands gripping the sides and hovering less than a foot from her mouth as I watched her masturbate.

Jesus Christ. She was beautiful.

And mine. All mine whether she fucking liked it or not. She’d do this for me. Only for me from now on.

A lock of hair spilled down her face, getting sucked between her lips and back out again every time she panted.

Mine. This was why I tolerated Arion. Because her little sister was my favorite little cunt. God, look at her.

Her body waving and hips rolling, her tits bouncing, her legs spread wide and hanging over the rim of the tub… The trickle of water teased her little clit, and I ran my tongue across the backside of my teeth, wanting to be the water and taste what it tasted and do to her what it was doing.

She danced even when she wasn’t on her feet.

She rode it out, fucking and coming as she threw her head back and moaned, and I dropped my eyes down her body, remembering all that I had touched and taking in the new in all the years that had passed. The same taut tummy and toned thighs. The same tight, round ass and tits, nipples poking straight out and built to be sucked.

But her hair was longer now, a few more muscles in her stomach and legs, and her pussy… The tightest thing I’d ever been inside of. She was a woman. I wouldn’t have to be gentle with her this time.

I raised my eyes to her face again, cocking my head and watching her eyebrows etched in pleasure and pain and wanting to kiss her so I could taste the sweat above her top lip.

Did she think about me? Did she do this a lot? Was she dying for it that badly? Did it feel as good as having a man between her legs?

It had been so long since I was spent like she looked now.

She lowered herself back into the tub, tucking her knees up to her chest again, and calmed her breathing.

No, do it again. My dick was so hard, and if I slid it inside her right now, how wet would she be? God, what was she doing to me? Do it again.

“I know you’re there,” she said.

And I shot my eyes up to her eyes, seeing her stare off at nothing, serene and resolute.

“And now you know…” she went on. “I always close my eyes when I come.”

I remained there, the fire in my body a moment ago now turning to ice. She knew I was here. She’d known from the start. I thought it was odd she left the door open. I just assumed she thought she was alone in the house. Can’t fault me for watching what happens in plain sight.

But she planned this.

And I raised my hand, bringing it to her face, claws bent and starving to grab her pretty little neck, but…I drew back. Provoking me was her goal, and that was not how you were going to wind up in my bed, little Winter.

She thought she was strong. She thought she could play with me.

She could try. I had you once. I’ll have you again.

I rose silently and stood there as she finally got out of the tub, wrapping herself in a towel, and left the bathroom. I quietly followed, stopping just outside the bathroom door and watching as she trailed down the hallway, no turn of the head to hear if anyone was behind her and no fear that anything was at her back, and entered her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I inhaled a deep breath, feeling the silence of the house and anticipation for the long nights ahead. Ari and her mother were gone.

Her father was gone.

All the ducks in a row.

Walking into my room, I shut the door, seeing Mikhail’s head pop from where he’d been asleep on the bed. He jumped to his feet, wagging his tail and tongue hanging out of his mouth.

I couldn’t help but quirk a smile as I dug into my pocket for a treat. He gobbled it out of my hand, and I petted him with the other, stroking his blond head. Amazing how some animals knew not to bite the hand that fed them while others couldn’t deny their nature to be what they were.

“I can’t sleep, boy,” I told him, smoothing both hands over his head now. “It’s not so complicated for an animal, is it? Why can’t the things I need be basic?”

Or physical?

I wanted to fuck. I wanted it slow, feeling her fear, her desire, and her mouth giving back what I gave to her.

But I needed her mind.

“It’s all in my head,” I muttered.

The control. The memories. The knowledge that our bodies betray us, and it was the brain that was the prize. That the mind knew what we really wanted, not the body.

“Wake up!” I whisper, shaking Banks. “Get up!”

She lifts her head, still half-asleep. “What? Huh?”

I rip the covers off her and grab her wrist, pulling her out of my bed. It’s like dragging a five-year-old. My sister is fourteen, but she’s still so lanky and skinny compared to me, and I’m only a year older than her. My boxers and T-shirt hang on her like drapes.

Footfalls hit the stairs outside my bedroom, and I’d forgotten to lock the door.

I shove Banks into the closet, and she sits down, knowing the drill. I put my headphones on her, metal music playing. “Don’t come out until I get you,” I tell her.

And I shut the door just as my bedroom door creaks open.

My mother, barefoot and dressed in a deep purple slip and robe, enters my room, a surprised look on her face when she sees me still awake.

She smiles and locks my bedroom door before heading across the room to me.

“You’re still up?” she asks, the musical tone to her voice making me wince.

It sounds surreal, because it has no place in what happened in this room. Nothing is happy or innocent.

She approaches, putting her hands on my face and patting my skin to feel for a temperature or some shit, but the touch turns intimate. A languorous drag of her fingertips. How her hand softly falls down my neck. How she stands close enough her breasts graze my bare chest through her nightie.

“Trouble sleeping?” she asks. And then smiles, teasing me. “Someone needs their sleeping pill.”

My sleeping pill. Because it’s medicinal for growing boys to have their dicks milked by their mothers.

She caresses my face and shoulders, looking up at me like I’m still eleven and always her boy.

“I can take care of anything my son needs.” She smiles and comes in, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Such a beautiful boy. You’re going to be a powerful man someday.”

She presses her body into mine, and I close my eyes, trying to go to that place I always go. Where I can pretend she’s someone else. A girl at school. Some chick in my class.