Page 18 of Corrupt Obsession

“It’s nothing,” he croaked.

“We used to be so close.”

Violet sounded hurt.

“We’re still close. You’re practically on top of me,” he muttered in a disgruntled tone, hoping and dreading that she would take the hint and give him some space. He was dying here. He stopped breathing when she propped her knee on his thigh.

“And we’re staying like this until you confide in me,” she declared.

“There’s nothing to confide. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

A pause and then, “You’re thinking about school, aren’t you?”

“I’m thinking about sports.”

“Do you think about anything else?” she asked in a disgusted tone.

“No,” he lied.

“What’s there to worry about? You’re always one of the best players on the team, no matter what you play.”

“I don’t want to take anything for granted.”

Just as he anticipated, she immediately lost interest and yawned.

“You sure you aren’t mad?” she asked sleepily.

“Yes.”

She sighed. “If you weren’t a guy, I’d think you were on your period. You’re so moody.”

He tunneled his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp. “Go to sleep, brat.”

“You’rea brat,” she countered fiercely before she went boneless. “That feels good.”

He kept up the head massage until she drifted to sleep. He lay there, mind racing, as her familiar scent teased his senses. From the moment they met, he instinctively knew she was integral to his future. And he was right. Her existence grounded him, brought color back into his world, and gave him direction, purpose, and joy. He knew he loved her but had never acknowledged that his feelings extended beyond being brotherly until the sight of Malcolm’s hands on her triggered violent, primitive instincts he hadn’t even known he possessed.

He didn’t want her legs draped over Malcolm’s shoulders, he wanted them on his. And that look he had down her swimsuit… The image of her breasts kept flashing in his mind at the worst times—during prayer, while he was talking to Mom… It was wrong on every level, but the more he tried to suppress his fantasies, the more lecherous they became. Part of his anger was directed at himself for viewing her like Malcolm and the others. He tried to keep his thoughts pure—to see her as a sexless friend or stepsibling, but now that the blinders were off, his body reacted with a vengeance.

When his dick hardened in response to her nearness, horror speared his gut. He closed his eyes and tried to think of awful things to make it go away. He conjured up the day his dad died and the phone call that made Mom drop to her knees and scream in a way he would never forget. The normal sucker punch he received when he thought back to that day was a mere finger flick with Violet pressed against him. He thought of natural disasters, a car accident they passed on their way here, and his grandmother in her rocking chair, knitting.

It wasn’t working. It was getting worse. He began to sweat, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. He tried to shift away but froze when she stirred. The last thing he needed wasfor her to notice his tented crotch. She would freak out, and rightly so. Here he was, pissed at his friends for shooting their shot, yet he lay beside her with a throbbing cock. Violet slept soundly because she trusted him. He wasn’t going to break that trust by relieving himself while she lay beside him.

But his mind latched onto the idea and played out different scenarios in his head. His dick got so hard, it became painful. Gently, but firmly, he extracted himself from her. She made unhappy, annoyed sounds, but didn’t wake. Slowly, he unzipped the tent so he wouldn’t make too much noise and draw attention to himself. When he stepped outside, he took a deep breath of the cool night air before he strolled away from the congregation of tents, trucks, and RV’s. He was relieved no one called out to him.

There was just enough light for him not to trip or twist his ankle as he navigated through the trees. He tried to banish the erotic fantasies by humming one of the worship songs they sang around the campfire not even an hour ago, but his mind fixated on what Violet would have done if she discovered his hard on. If her knee propped on his thigh brushed against it, would she have freaked out? He had no idea how much she actually knew about sex, but what if she shocked the hell out of him and grabbed it? Explored and pleasured him?

He stopped in his tracks and reached into his pants to grip his dick, which was leaking precum. He bit back a groan, braced his hand on a tree, and prayed he would hear if anyone approached before they saw what he was doing.

He bowed his head and let the forbidden floodgates open. Images of Violet doing things to him and him doing things to her made him shudder. God, this was wrong, but he couldn’t stop.She’s not really my sister, he reminded himself as he climaxed.

“Shit,” he hissed as he sprayed his cum over the trunk of the tree.

As the awful tension drained away, he hastily tucked himself in his pants and caught his breath. Guilt dulled the pleasure coursing through him. If anyone knew what he’d done… He straightened and peered through the darkness. But no one did. And Violet was clueless. No harm done.

He started back to camp and was relieved not to cross paths with anyone. He unzipped the tent and waited for Violet to stir. When she didn’t, he crawled in beside her and turned on his side, facing away from her.

He took a deep breath and caught a whiff of his cum mixing with her delicate scent. He should have washed his hands. He should have slept in the SUV. He shouldn’t have come back here. He should… Before he could leave, she fit her body to his back, spooning him and draping her arm over his middle. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He’d already come. He should be okay for the rest of the night.

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