We stopped being careful after that weekend.
The hunger was too strong. Every look, every touch made us want more. Rufus would grab me in the hallway and kiss me like he was dying. I’d sneak into his room at night and ride him until we both couldn’t breathe.
It got dangerous.
One afternoon, my father came home early from a meeting. We were in his study—me bent over the big wooden desk, dress hiked up around my waist. Rufus was behind me, pants down, thrusting deep and hard. The sound of skin slapping filled the quiet room.
“f**k, you feel so good,” he growled, one hand in my hair, the other gripping my hip.
I moaned into my arm, pushing back against him. His thick c**k stretched me perfectly, hitting that spot that made my eyes roll back.
Then we heard the front door open.
My father
