Peter's Home.
The heavy rain poured outside, drumming loudly against the roof and windows of the quiet house. The clock on the wall ticked slowly—12:30 AM. Inside the dimly lit living room, Prosper sat curled up on the couch, lost in her thoughts.
Then—knock, knock, knock.
The sudden sound made her jump. Who could that be at this hour? she wondered, frowning. The knocking came again, louder this time—knock, knock, knock.
Prosper stood up, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor as she walked to the door. She hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, peering through the small eyehole.
Her eyes widened.
Standing outside, completely drenched from the storm, was her brother—Peter. His clothes clung to his body, his hair dripping wet, his face hidden in the shadows.
Prosper quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open. The cold wind rushed in, sending a chill down her spine.
Peter didn't even look at her. Without a word, he stepped inside, his wet shoes leaving dark marks on the floor. He walked straight down the hallway, turned left, and disappeared into his room.
Prosper stared after him, confused. What's wrong with him?
She closed the door gently, then followed him.
Inside his room, Peter was already stripping off his soaked shirt, tossing it onto the floor. He reached for a dry towel when—
BANG!
The door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud thud.
Prosper stood there, arms crossed, her sharp eyes locked onto him.
Peter flinched, then glared at her. "Prosper! Are you alright? Don't you know your manners anymore?"
Prosper was just as tall as Peter, with fair skin, striking beauty, and a figure that could make heads turn. She tilted her chin up, her lips curling into a smirk.
"I left my precious sleep to open the door for you," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And all you could do was walk past me like I'm nothing. And now you want to teach me about manners?"
Peter sighed, rubbing his temples. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist. "Alright, I'm sorry. Now please, leave my room."
He bent down to pick up his wet clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket. When he turned back around, Prosper was still there, leaning against the doorframe.
"What do you want, Prosper?" he asked, his voice low and tired.
A slow smile spread across her face. She raised one finger, pointing at him. "Don't you know what I want, brother?"
Peter clenched his jaw. He walked past her, dropping his clothes into the basket before turning back. "I'm not in the mood for this. Now leave."
Prosper's smile faded. "What happened this time?" she asked, stepping closer. "Did you and Josiah have a fight? Or did he say something that hurt you?"
Peter exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. "Yeah."
Prosper's expression softened. She closed the door behind her and walked toward him. "If you're sad, brother… then you know what to do, don't you?"
Before Peter could react, she closed the distance between them. Her fingers brushed against his cheek, her touch soft and teasing.
But Peter grabbed her wrist and shoved her back. "Get out!" he snapped. "And for fuck's sake, go get yourself a boyfriend and stop this madness!"
Prosper's eyes flashed with anger. "Oh, now you're angry with me?" she hissed. "But when you started this, and I warned you about the consequences, did you listen? Now that I want it, you act like it's some kind of sin? Fine! God, don't come to me after this!"
She stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. Her furious footsteps echoed down the hallway until another door slammed shut—her own.
Peter stood frozen for a moment, then groaned, rubbing his face. "Fuck… God, what have I done? Ahhh!"
He grabbed his head, pacing in frustration before finally yanking his door open and marching out into the hallway.
Prosper's Room
Prosper stormed into her bedroom, her anger boiling under her skin. She threw herself onto the soft mattress of her bed, letting out a frustrated sigh. Her room was a stark contrast to her brother Peter's—neat, beautifully decorated, and filled with expensive furniture. The walls were adorned with colorful artwork, shelves packed with romance novels, and a few books that explored more mature themes like love and sex.
As she lay there, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts raced. "I was so stupid," she muttered to herself. "Stupid for letting him touch me that first time. Stupid for letting it happen again and again. And now? Now I've slept with my own brother. If Mom or Dad ever find out… I'm dead."
Just then, the doorknob turned with a quiet click. The door opened, then shut softly behind Peter as he stepped inside. He moved silently toward the bed, his presence both familiar and unsettling. Without a word, he climbed onto the mattress behind her, wrapping his right arm around her waist. His hand slid up, cupping one of her breasts possessively.
Prosper didn't flinch. Instead, she spoke in a low, steady voice. "What are you doing, brother? I thought you didn't want me anymore."
Peter's voice was rough, weighed down by emotion. "I'm sorry… I wasn't myself earlier. I had a fight with Josiah. We lost one of our own today—Luke and his gang… The boy didn't make it. Internal bleeding."
Prosper didn't react with shock or fear. She was used to Peter's violent world, the constant battles, the bloodshed. Instead, she pressed her body back against him, grinding her ass gently against his growing erection. "So," she murmured, "did you finally kill Luke this time? Or at least take out some of his men?"
Peter let out a soft moan as she moved against him. "No… You know I don't kill. Yeah, I'm arrogant, yeah, I fight… but I don't go that far."
Prosper smirked, continuing her slow, teasing motions. "If you don't end him soon, you'll regret it one day. Mark my words."
Peter exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on her. "I… I know. Damn it, Prosper… your ass always drives me crazy."
She turned to face him then, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I know."
Without hesitation, Peter's hand slid down, gripping her ass firmly before pressing his fingers between her thighs. Prosper gasped, her smile widening. "You never take things slow, do you? Ah—fuck, Peter, slow down!"
He chuckled darkly. "Come on, you love this. Don't pretend you don't."
She moaned, her body arching into his touch. "It's not that I don't like it… but you're going so fast… I might finish before we even get to the main event."
At that, Peter slowed his movements, his other hand reaching up to cup her face. Their lips met in a slow, deep kiss—one that quickly turned hungry, desperate. As their tongues tangled, Prosper's left hand slipped between them, wrapping around Peter's hard length. She stroked him firmly, her fingers gliding up and down as he continued to tease her with his other hand, alternating between her ass and her wetness.
Moans filled the room, soft at first, then growing louder as their passion intensified. After several minutes of this heated exchange, Prosper pulled away from the kiss, her eyes dark with desire. Without breaking eye contact, she slid down the bed, taking Peter's thick cock into her mouth.
She sucked him greedily, her tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper. Peter groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Harder, girl… harder, my love… deeper… ah—fuck! Argh—!" His voice broke as pleasure overtook him.
The night stretched on, the two of them lost in their forbidden desires, giving in to the heat between them until exhaustion finally pulled them under.
To Be Continued.....