I lay there in the darkness, my mind spiraling through an endless maze of pain and mystery. Sleep finally claimed me, but it was restless—a turbulent ocean of fractured dreams. Damien's eyes gleamed with predatory hunger in the shadows of my subconscious. My sister-in-law Sophia's smile twisted into something sinister, almost demonic. And Alex—my own brother—his manhood invading me, tearing through my innocence.
Then David's face would emerge from the chaos, that man who called himself my father's enemy, threatening to destroy everything the Thompson family had built. Was all of this part of his elaborate conspiracy? Or did Sophia harbor her own dark secrets? Even in sleep, my body trembled. The burning sensation between my thighs refused to fade, a constant reminder of what had been done to me.
The night had grown impossibly deep. London's streets lay silent outside our mansion walls, with only the distant ticking of a clock breaking the suffocating quiet. Our estate—a fortress of wealth and privilege—felt more like a jungle tonight, with danger lurking in every shadow, behind every corner.
Then, without warning, my bedroom door creaked open.
The sound was subtle, almost imperceptible—like a thief slipping through the darkness. I remained still, eyes closed, telling myself it was just another nightmare. But the heavy footsteps were real, growing closer with each passing second. My heart began to hammer against my ribcage.
The blanket was suddenly ripped away from my body.
Cold air assaulted my exposed skin—I'd worn only a thin nightgown to bed. Then something warm, thick, and unmistakably masculine was pressed against my face. The smell hit me instantly—raw, primal, reeking of sweat and arousal.
My eyes snapped open in horror.
I bolted upright, a scream tearing from my throat as I scrambled backward on the bed. Standing before me in nothing but underwear was Damien, his manhood hanging free, semi-erect and intimidating. His eyes were bloodshot, wild—like a starving predator finally cornering its prey.
"Damien! What the hell are you doing here?" I shrieked, but my voice came out strangled, weakened by fear. My heart threatened to burst from my chest. His intentions were crystal clear—dark, vile, unforgivable.
He smiled, teeth flashing white in the moonlight. "Quiet, Lily. Your treatment isn't finished yet."
I shoved him with all my strength, my palms against his bare chest—but it was like pushing against a stone wall. He didn't even flinch. Panic seized me completely. I threw myself off the bed and ran, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor as I fled from the room.
Behind me, his footsteps thundered in pursuit.
"Stop, you little bitch!" he snarled, his voice guttural and animalistic.
I raced through the darkened hallway toward Alex's master bedroom—my brother's room, where I prayed I'd find safety. The corridor was pitch black except for streams of moonlight cutting through the tall windows. My lungs burned, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The pain between my legs reignited with each desperate step.
When I reached Alex's door, I skidded to a halt.
It was slightly ajar—he must have forgotten to lock it. Warm light spilled out from the gap. They'd forgotten to turn off the lights tonight. I reached for the door, ready to burst in and beg for help, but something made me pause. Through the narrow opening, I could see inside.
What I saw froze my blood.
Alex and Sophia—completely naked, lost in wild, primal passion.
Sophia was positioned on the bed on all fours, her round bottom raised high, her full breasts swaying beneath her. Alex was behind her, his muscular body glistening with sweat as he thrust into her with brutal, rhythmic force. His manhood disappeared and reappeared from between her thighs, accompanied by wet, obscene sounds that echoed through the room.
"Harder, Alex! Fucking destroy me!" Sophia moaned, her hair cascading wildly around her flushed face.
My brother's muscles rippled with each powerful movement, his hands gripping her waist like she was some wild creature he was trying to tame. The room reeked of sex and sweat—raw, animalistic, intoxicating.
I stood paralyzed, unable to look away. Fear still gripped me, but beneath it, something else stirred—a strange, unwanted arousal. Was this the "magic" Sophia had told me about?
Then, without warning, hands grabbed me from behind.
Damien had caught up.
I spun around, terror flooding back, but he was already peering into the room over my shoulder. A wicked smile spread across his face. "See? This is how everyone plays in this house," he whispered darkly.
Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly—like I weighed nothing at all. This time, I didn't resist. Watching Alex and Sophia's wild coupling had awakened something inside me—that same maddening wave of desire that was making me wet despite my fear.
Fear and lust battled inside me, and I didn't know which was winning.
"Shhh... be quiet," Damien murmured as he carried me back to the guest room—the same room where this morning's "examination" had taken place. The room still bore evidence of earlier—rumpled sheets, that lingering scent hanging heavy in the air.
He kicked the door shut behind us and locked it with a decisive click.
I stood on the bed, trembling uncontrollably. "Damien, please... don't do this," I whispered, but my voice lacked conviction.
He laughed—a cruel, knowing sound. "Liar. You're going to love every second of it."
His hands moved to my nightgown and ripped it upward. In one violent motion, he tore away my bra and panties, the fabric giving way like paper. I stood before him completely exposed—my pale skin glowing in the dim light, my breasts full and heavy, nipples already hardening despite myself.
He shoved me backward onto the bed with brutal force.
His hands forced my legs apart, spreading me wide open. "Fucking hell, your pussy is still so tight. I'm going to ruin you tonight," he growled, crude words dripping with hunger.
I tried to fight—kicking, clawing, pushing—but he was far too strong. His dark skin seemed to absorb the shadows around him, his broad shoulders blocking out everything else. His manhood stood fully erect now—thick, dark, veins bulging along its length.
He rubbed the swollen head against my entrance, feeling how wet I'd already become. "You're fucking soaked, you little whore. Got turned on watching your brother fuck his wife?"
Shame burned through me, but he wasn't wrong. Pain and desire twisted together inside me like serpents.
Then, with one savage thrust, he buried himself completely inside me.
"AHHH!" A scream ripped from my throat as I felt myself tearing again. The swelling from before had barely subsided, but he didn't care, didn't slow down. He began pounding into me with relentless force—in and out, faster and harder with each stroke.
The bed frame slammed rhythmically against the wall. My cries filled the room, echoing off the walls.
"Harder, Damien! Fucking tear me apart!" I heard myself screaming, shocked by my own words. But the pain was transforming into pleasure—his thick length filling me completely, reaching depths I didn't know existed.
He cursed with each thrust. "Your pussy is fucking incredible! Take it, you little slut, take every inch!"
His hands found my breasts, roughly pinching and twisting my nipples, even biting them. I writhed beneath him, my hips rising to meet his rhythm without conscious thought. The room contained only our harsh breathing, desperate moans, and the wet slapping of flesh against flesh.
Outside, rain began to fall, as if nature itself was responding to my climax.
I was completely lost now—fear and anger drowned beneath an overwhelming tide of pure lust. His thrusts became even more violent, mechanical, inhuman. My wetness coated both of us, sticky and hot.
"Yes... more... oh God!" My moans grew louder, more desperate.
Then the first orgasm hit me like lightning—a wave of ecstasy that shot from my curled toes to the top of my head. My entire body convulsed, my eyes rolling back as I screamed.
But he didn't stop.
"We're just getting started," he laughed wickedly.
A second orgasm followed, even more intense than the first. His length hit something deep inside me, a spot that made stars explode behind my closed eyelids. My own fluids gushed out, coating his shaft.
He was groaning now, his movements becoming erratic. "Take it, take all of it!"
The third time, he suddenly pulled out of me. He flipped me around, positioning his manhood near my face. "Open your fucking mouth!"
I obeyed without hesitation—resistance had completely abandoned me. He thrust inside, hitting the back of my throat. I gagged, struggling to breathe, but the taste—salty, hot, masculine—was intoxicating.
He fucked my mouth with the same brutal intensity, his hands tangling in my hair, holding me in place. Then, with a final deep groan, he exploded. Hot, thick fluid flooded my mouth, coating my tongue.
I swallowed it all—quickly, desperately, like it was some forbidden elixir. The taste was strange, overwhelming, but somehow addictive.
Finally, I collapsed in complete exhaustion. My body felt like liquid, my pussy aching and sore, but a deep satisfaction hummed through my veins.