I gasp again and pull back, just far enough to break that kiss. “Josh, stop.”

He pauses, a frown creasing his forehead. In the moonlight, he looks like the boy I kissed six years ago. He looks like that boy, but also like a stranger. A man I don’t know at all. A man I want to know, in every sense of the word.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs.

“We can’t do this. You know we can’t.”

He tilts his head to one side. Searches my gaze. “Because our parents are married?”


“Of course,” I hiss, so low and loud that he leans back a little, laughs in spite of himself.

“Pau. It’s not like we’re really related.”

“So?!” I shake my head so hard that his eyes widen. I lower my voice again, nervous that our parents might wake up and peer out the window. It’s dark enough, and the fire has dimmed enough that I don’t think they’ll be able to see this far out from the cabin. Probably. But I’d rather not chance it. “Josh, for all intents and purposes, we’re brother and sister now. We can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

But my hands are speaking a different story. Even as I protest, they’re still wrapped around his neck. My fingers slide through his hair, trace the back of his neck.

“Paulina.” The sound of my full name makes me tense again. I want to hear him say that in different circumstances. I want to hear him scream it as he spreads my legs and drives his thick cock into me…

No. I shake my head.

He cups my cheek and leans in to feather kisses along my jawline. Trail his lips down the side of my neck. “What’s really going on?” he whispers into the crook of my neck. “Clearly you want to do this as much as I do. What’s the real problem?”

His other hand trails down my chest, his fingers tracing the edges of my breasts. Even through my bra, I can feel my nipples begin to harden at his touch.

“Exactly what I said it is,” I murmur, unable to stop myself from squirming under him.

“You don’t want this?” He pauses, and for a second I could swear there’s something almost like hurt in his eyes.

“Of course I do,” I say automatically, before I even think about it. Before I realize that’s exactly the wrong thing to say. He grins and leans in to kiss me again, but I turn my head. Let him trail those kisses along my neck instead, while my traitorous body reacts to him anyway, pulls him closer, digs my nails in deeper.

It takes every ounce of willpower to twist away from him. Especially when he’s gazing at me like he wants to devour me, pull me back to him and touch every inch of me until we’re both begging for more.

“But we can’t. If Dad sees us, if he catches me… He’ll be so upset. I can’t hurt him like that. He wouldn’t understand.”

Josh sits back. Watches me carefully, eyes searching in that way he has, like he sees straight through me. “Wouldn’t understand what, exactly?”

I swallow hard. “Understand… That I want to fuck my brand-spanking-new brother.”

He laughs and lets his hand trace a path from my hips along my side, then around. Down the curve of my back, until his palm cups my ass. “Are you trying to say you want to be spanked?” He smirks.

My breath hitches in my throat, betraying me. I feel myself leaning forward, into his orbit, unable to stop myself. “I…” I shut my eyes. Dammit. I know what I need to do. Stand up right now. Run back to the house. Lock myself in my bedroom and try to ignore everything I’m feeling.

Maybe touch myself, pretend my fingers are his, finger my clit until I come, picturing Josh going down on me all the while…

But whatever I do, it shouldn’t be this. I shouldn’t tilt my face to meet his, let my lips part as he bends down, his mouth a whisper away from mine, so close I catch the scent of his breath, peppermint-fresh, and underneath that, the scent that’s been driving me crazy all day—pure Josh.

“I won’t let anyone catch us,” he whispers. He slides his hand along my ass. Squeezes tightly. I arch against him, instinctive, and my hips collide with his. His cock feels harder than ever, thick against my leg, and I let my hands trace down his chest, feeling the lines of his muscles through his thin T-shirt, inching closer and closer to the bulge in his jeans.

“If nobody catches us, there’s no harm,” he murmurs into my neck as he feathers more kisses along my skin. His mouth is hot, burning, branding. I turn toward him and our lips collide again, possessive, sudden. I melt into him, and let my body mold to his.

His hands slide around to my front, undo the clasp of my jeans. Without realizing, I mirror him, doing the same. Undoing his pants, pushing them down as he pushes mine down, groaning as his fingers brush the bare skin of my hips, my thighs, tracing the edges of my panties.

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