My Best friend's Brother

Crossing The Line

Everything happened too fast. One moment, my gown brushed against my thighs, modest and safe. The next, it was bunched around my waist, leaving me exposed.

A sharp tearing sound cut through the air, final and inevitable. My panties, torn and useless. A shiver ran down my spine as the cool air hit my bare skin, and despite myself, a twisted smile crept onto my lips.

I can’t believe we’re doing this. His hardness pressed insistently against me, and I arched into him, a small gasp escaping despite my efforts to stay silent.

“This is what you want, right?” he whispered, his voice rough and breath hot against my ear. A knot twisted tight in my stomach as I shook my head, fighting the storm rising inside.

“Don’t bring your mouth near me,” I managed, keeping my voice steady, almost detached. I couldn’t let him see the heat coursing through me.

I felt the hint of a smirk against my neck as he pulled back.

“Oh, Joan.” His voice was gravelly, mocking. “I have no intention of touching you with my lips.” His fingers found their way inside me, and a moan slipped out before I could bite down hard enough to hold it back.

“Yeah. Moan for me, like the little slut you are,” he growled, and something inside me tightened, the fire burning hotter.

“So wet for me,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his fingers moving rhythmically. “How long have you wanted this? Wanted to get me out of your system just like I do?” His voice was relentless, taunting, and I ground my teeth.

“Just shut up and f**k me,” I spat, desperately trying to erase the smug satisfaction in his tone. I heard the faint sound of a zipper, the crinkle of foil, and then—before I could fully process it—he was inside me, filling me in a way that left me breathless.

His hands stayed planted on the wall beside me, caging me in without a single touch, his body an electric presence. His chest didn’t even graze my back, but he was inside me, dragging me into something dark and dangerous.

His thrusts were hard and fast, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, relentless. I shuddered when he found that sweet, perfect spot that sent pleasure rocketing through me. I was on the edge, so close, when suddenly—he pulled out.

He f*****g pulled out. I glared over my shoulder, furious, as he rubbed my clit in lazy circles, not enough to push me over.

“Already coming apart, huh?” he sneered, and I threw it back at him with as much venom as I could muster.

“Pretty pathetic for a guy who doesn't lasts,” I snapped, trying to hit a nerve.

His laugh was low, unbothered. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do, Joan. It’s not going to work.” He slid back inside, keeping just enough distance to deny me the release I craved, hitting every part of me except the one that would send me over the edge.

My nails scraped the window, frustration building, pressure coiling tight inside me.

“Say it,” he rasped, his voice a growl, and the sound of our skin meeting filled the room, the scent of us thick in the air. I knew Rhoda could walk in at any moment, and somehow, the thought only fed the heat.

“Say it,” he repeated, his hand wrapping around my throat. It was the first time he’d truly touched me, and my pulse jumped beneath his fingers.

He hit that spot again, teasing me, once, twice, enough to drive me to the brink, then pulling back. My mouth stayed stubbornly closed, defiant.

“Pl… please,” I stammered, tears prickling as my legs threatened to give way. My control was slipping, and I hated it—hated him for pushing me here.

Then he drove into that spot again, and I shattered, my walls clenching tight around him as I let go, letting the o****m tear through me.

I closed my eyes as light burst behind them, every nerve alight. It had been so long—too long.

He didn’t slow, his movements becoming frantic as he chased his own release. I felt him swell inside me, his groan rough in my ear, and then he let go, his grip on my throat loosening as he came.

Reality crept back in slowly. I watched him as he removed the condom, tying it off with a kind of mechanical precision, his expression unreadable in the reflection of the window. I tugged my dress down, feeling his absence between my legs like an ache, a hollow reminder of what had just happened.

What have I done?

We didn’t look at each other as I picked up the torn scrap of my panties from the floor unredeemable.

I walked to the room, opening the door with trembling fingers and slipping inside. The door clicked shut behind me and I leaned against it, closing my eyes.

I'd just f****d my best friend's brother.