After a five-hour flight, we finally land at our island getaway. The moment we step off the plane, I catch my mother grinning at Derek, her smile wide and real, like she can't hide how happy she is. The air is thick and warm, heavy with the smell of salt and sunbaked sand. I hope I packed enough clothes for the week, because I know my Dad has every day mapped out, probably down to the hour.

The resort is gorgeous. Palm trees everywhere, swaying slow and lazy, like they've got all the time in the world. My heart's pounding, maybe from the jet lag, maybe from the secret I'm dragging along with my suitcase. I try to breathe deep, searching for a whiff of danger, but all I get is hibiscus.

Mom and Dad are arm in arm, a united front. "Let's get checked in," he says, all businesslike.

The staff greets us with smiles and flower leis. It's almost too much, but not quite. "Welcome to the island," they say, and it sounds like a dare.

I try to focus on the view, the water, anything but the pulse in my neck. They're just words, but they make me dizzy. "Thanks," I mumble, my eyes darting to Jeffery as he stretches like he doesn't have a care in the world.

The check-in was all smiles, leis, and cold drinks, with Dad insisting on a bungalow at the far end, his arm around Mom, as if we were one big happy family. They have no idea. No clue as to what their children have been doing. But they're so far away now, it's almost safe. It's almost like they're giving us consent to keep fucking like wild rabbits for the entire week.

The girl at reception gave us the keys. As she looked at us, I swear it appeared as though she could see into our heads.

The bellhop's waiting with our luggage, so I grab a suitcase and follow my family down the winding, flower-choked path. The resort is a maze of white sand and blue pools, bungalows tucked like secrets behind banana leaves and birds of paradise. Every corner is a postcard or a hiding place.

Inside, the rooms are refreshingly cool and filled with an intense brightness as sunlight streams through the bamboo shades. Mom and Derek make their way down the path to the master bungalow, while Jeffery and I are given the smaller suites, which come with a balcony overlooking the sea.

The moment the door shuts, Jeffery's on me, his hands greedy, his lips a dare. "We shouldn't," I say, but it's a joke, because we do. We always do.

He backs me into the sliding door, the glass cold on my spine, his breath hot in my ear. "One week," he says, voice like a promise, his hands under my shirt. "Let’s not waste it.” I’m already melting, already unzipping, the thrill of maybe getting caught making me wetter than I’ll ever admit.

His cock is out and in my hand before I can think, heavy and thick and everything I need. I sink to my knees, the view from below making me dizzy. He’s all I see, all I want to see.

“Fuck, Ella,” Jeffery groans. “You’re gonna kill me.”

My tongue swirls around the swollen head of his cock, slick with pre-cum, and I feel him twitch in my hands like a live wire. My mouth is stuffed full, too full to speak, so I take him deeper, inch by inch, until the thick, veiny shaft hits the back of my throat. I gag, my eyes watering, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. His fingers knot in my hair, yanking hard, guiding my head, owning me. I’m a fucking mess, ready to come just from the taste of him, the way he’s using me like his personal fucktoy. His hips buck, driving his cock deeper, and I gag again, but I love it. I fucking love it. He knows I do. He knows I’m a slut for this, for him, for how dirty and wrong it feels.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps, his voice ragged, desperate. His words are a hot mess of need, and I’m a hot mess of want. I’m dripping, my pussy throbbing with every thrust of his cock into my throat.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he growls, and I hum around him, the vibration making him shudder. The taste of him is intoxicating, a jolt of pure, raw need that shoots straight to my core. I’m so wet I can feel it soaking through my panties.

“Ella—” His voice is loud, loud enough to echo through the whole fucking island, but I don’t care. I pull off his cock, slick and glistening, and he’s panting, his chest heaving. “Not yet,” I say, my voice teasing, and he groans, his hands tightening in my hair.

“You’re evil,” he manages, but he’s grinning, pulling me up, pushing me down onto the rug. It’s rough against my back, but his mouth is hot on my skin, and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but his hands, his fingers, his tongue. He peels off my shirt, my shorts, my everything, and I’m bare and wanting, so fucking wanting.

My legs wrap around him, my skin on fire. His hands are everywhere, pulling my clothes off, pulling me into the storm. I’m already wet, already lost, already needing what I shouldn’t need. He’s hard against me, harder than my heart can take.

“Jeffery,” I whisper, and his name is a fuse, a flash, an explosion. His fingers find my pussy, sliding inside me, and I arch up, all nerve, all want, all him.

“You think about it? On the plane?” he asks, his voice low and rough. His fingers curl inside me, hitting that spot that makes me see stars.

“Every second,” I moan, grinding against him, my hips betraying me. The truth. Nothing but.

“Good,” he says, and I don’t know if he means it for him or me or both, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s in me, all of him, all of me, and it’s raw and frantic and pure.

He pounds into me, raw and primal, every thrust a brutal claiming, a profane sacrament. My cries are a broken litany of moans and curses. My nails gouge into his flesh, drawing welts, maybe blood, maybe something more primal than love. We're merged, too close to distinguish where one ends and the other begins. We might survive this, we might not.

“Couldn’t wait to fuck you,” he growls, his breath ragged. I steal it, shattering it into desperate pants.

“I know,” I whimper, almost a sob, a profane prayer. My body is aflame, an inferno of need and desperation. There's no relief, only this relentless, carnal dance.

It’s savage, animalistic, perfect. Our bodies clash, slick with sweat, nothing between us but raw, primal hunger.

“Fuck, Ella,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips like a vise, pulling me flush against him. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

I’m coming undone, and he knows it. I want to stop, I want more. More of him, more of this, more of what I know is forbidden.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I plead, my voice a primal, desperate cry. “Keep fucking me!” My legs and arms cling to his body, holding him against me as my cunt convulses around his thick, throbbing cock. I’m on the edge, so fucking close, and he knows it. His thrusts become more brutal, more urgent, pushing me over the brink. My orgasm explodes, waves of pleasure crashing over me as he continues to pound into my quivering flesh.

His name erupts from my throat as I climax, loud, fierce, and utterly unraveled. He follows, a relentless surge, a blazing inferno, the cataclysmic culmination of our passion.

“Fuck…” I moan, my breath hitching as his thick cock throbs and unloads the last drop of his hot, sticky cum deep inside my pulsating cunt.

I stare deeply into his eyes, feeling the heat rise between us as our lips crash together in a fervent kiss. Our bodies press firmly against one another, moving with a primal rhythm. Gradually, I sense the stirring of his erection, and soon, we're tangled in a passionate frenzy, thrusting with unrestrained abandon as we lose ourselves in the wild intensity of our lovemaking.

Jeffery hastily flips me onto my stomach, his strong hands guiding me onto my knees. He grips my hips firmly, his hard cock throbbing against my entrance before plunging deep into my soaked pussy. He pounds into me, hitting that spot perfectly, and I scream out, "Fuck yes, right there! Don't stop! Oh god, yes! Fuck me harder!"

My cunt throbs with the burden of our clandestine fuck, our carnal sin, but it only feeds the inferno between us. My universe condenses to the raw, animalistic fucking, and I surrender to the sensation. His fingers bruise my hips as he pistons faster, each thrust an earthquake of ecstasy that obliterates any semblance of control.

"Fuck, Ella," he growls, panting, wild. He leans over me, his sweaty chest sliding against my bare back, his teeth grazing my ear. "You're gonna make me explode."

"Yes," I moan, my voice a feral, shattered cry. "Do it. Fill me up. Come with me. Fuck, Jeffery, yes!

The words are a lit match, a spark, and the world combusts. I'm coming, a raw, devouring blaze, and he's right there with me, his hot seed pumping deep inside, his roar of release echoing through me like an avalanche.

"Fuck, Ella," he groans one last time, his voice a mixture of desperation and desire. I'm so engulfed in the intensity of our moment, so lost in the fire between us, that the knock on my door is just a distant echo until my mother's voice cuts through the haze.

"Ella?" she calls, and my heart seizes in panic, freezing the blood in my veins.

"Shit," he gasps, his breath ragged as he pulls me up with urgency. "They're coming."

The doorknob rattles violently. Thankfully, it’s locked, but we scramble frantically, our hands trembling as we rush to throw on our clothes.

"Just a minute!" I shout, my voice cracking, raw and wrecked, as I frantically gesture for him to hide under my bed, the adrenaline pounding like a drum in my ears.

My hand flies to the lock, and I fling the door open with a forced, breathless smile. "Mom! Dad! Sorry, I was in the bathroom."

"Well, hurry up," she says, a hint of suspicion in her voice. "We’re heading to the beach."

I nod, my heart a wild animal, caged and furious. "I'll be right there."

They walk away, and I slap my hand over my mouth to stop from screaming, from laughing, from crying. Jeffery crawls out, his hair a mess, his eyes bright and alive.

"We've got to stop getting caught like this," he says, his grin a mile wide, his voice a wicked thrill.

I swat at him, my limbs still trembling, still high from the rush. "We’ve got to stop getting caught, period."

"You love it," he says, pulling me close, his breath hot on my neck.

“We'd better catch up with them,” I say as I yank on a cover-up, but Jeffery’s already halfway out the door. I catch my reflection in the mirror—my hair wild, my lips red, a barely there bikini stretched over a body still shaking. I look like what I am: a girl who just got wrecked by her stepbrother. I laugh, or maybe I cry. Maybe both. Then I’m running to catch up, the hallway a tunnel of bright, dangerous light.

Outside, the ocean’s a slap of blue so perfect it hurts. Mom’s in the lounge, Dad beside her, both with drinks in hand. Jeffery’s already there, sprawled out like he owns the place, sunglasses hiding his eyes. I can still feel them on me, see the curve of his grin when he watches me.

“Finally,” Mom says, waving me over. “We’re heading to the lagoon. Put on sunscreen, unless you want to look like a lobster for the rest of the trip.”

I lather up, but my skin is already burning, and it’s not the sun. I’m raw from the inside out, painted with the memory of Jeffery’s mouth, his hands, the way he made me come so hard I thought I’d never stop shaking. I can’t even look at him, but I can’t look away either. Not when his thigh presses against mine on the lounge, leaving a secret heat nobody else can see.

Everything feels like an invitation as we sit by the pool like we’re a normal family. "Ready for a swim?" Derek asks, way too cheerful, way too sure. He’s the perfect Dad, with his still-fit physique and open smile. I don’t know how he can’t see what’s going on, but maybe that’s part of it. Maybe he does. I watch him and Jeffery, the way they’re almost the same but not, and my heart speeds up. I try to slow it down.

Jeffery's body is a dare in those swim trunks, lean muscle, and arrogance. He's watching me watch him, and it’s a game we know too well.

Mom’s already in the water, and I can't tell if she’s ignoring us or if she sees everything. Her bikini is classy, a bit too much so for this place. Her eyes are shaded by sunglasses, but I feel them, sharp as ever, cutting through the sun and secrets.

"Coming in?" Jeffery calls. My pulse spikes. His words are bait, are hooks, are perfect.

"Try and stop me," I say, and I know he won’t.

The day burns, and I wear the thrill like a second skin.

I dive in, the water shock-cold against the heat of my skin, the heat of him. We surface, too close, too obvious, but the risk is all I want. It’s all he wants. We’re idiots, but we’re alive. I hope we stay that way.

Derek’s laugh booms, and he pulls Mom in for a kiss, a splash, an easy show of love. I pretend not to care.

We climb out and collapse onto loungers. The sand’s a blinding white, and it matches the noise in my head. Jeffery's fingers brush mine, a secret between us, a wildfire.

He leans over. "You’re turning red," he says, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"From the sun," I lie, and we both know it. My face burns, and the rest of me burns more.

Mom throws me a towel, her lips pressed tight. "You need sunscreen," she says, like it’s a warning. Like she knows I’m playing with fire.

I pretend not to notice, just like I pretend not to notice how I’m shaking inside.

We move through the day as if there’s no danger, as if we’re not about to blow up. The air’s thick with salt, sweat, and secrets.

When we gather for the bonfire, I tell myself it’ll be okay. I tell myself and I tell myself, and maybe I’ll believe it.

The cocktails are all neon colors and have too much alcohol. The resort staff smiles like they’ve seen this all before.

We’re on the beach, surrounded by palms and possibilities. The sunset paints everything orange, casts us all in the same warm glow. I drink it in, and I drink Jeffery in, and I drink until the world tilts, until my fear does too.

He stands close, too close, and I don’t care. Maybe I care too much. "Think we’ll survive this?" he whispers, a taunt, a promise, a breath in my ear.

"We always do," I say, reckless, giddy, so sure I might just be right.

The drinks loosen us up, peel the edges off everything. We’re tipsy on booze and each other and the raw heat of being almost caught.

My laugh is too loud, too wild, and it’s the best sound I’ve ever made.

The fire crackles, and we crackle with it, electricity under our skin, between us. Derek and Mom are talking, talking too close, her hand on his leg, his hand on hers, and maybe they’ll surprise us all. Maybe they’ll surprise themselves.

I watch them, fascinated and anxious, with one eye on them, one on Jeffery, and one on everything we are.

His hand grazes my thigh, and I almost jump. I almost scream. I almost love it.

They’re kissing now, not caring who sees. Who sees are the only two people here. It’s insane. It’s perfect. I wonder if it’s always been this way.

"Want to make our escape?" Jeffery says, laughter in his voice, a dare in his fingers, a rescue mission.

"I thought you’d never ask," I reply, and we slip away, fireflies in the night, untouchable and so, so alive.

We escape into the night, laughter chasing us as adrenaline courses through our veins. We stumble upon an unlocked desert bungalow and slip inside, hearts racing with desire. Clothes are tossed aside in a frenzy, leaving us naked and raw. We’re a chaotic symphony of passion, but god, we are flawless. He devours me, his presence engulfing my senses. It's a whirlwind of lust and urgency. My hands grip his throbbing cock, feeling its heat, while his fingers plunge into my drenched pussy, igniting every nerve. Our bodies are electric, surging towards the climax we both crave. This intensity, this hunger, it’s endless. His name is the only sound I can form, a mantra of ecstasy.

He lifts me up, and I’m on the bed, knees wide, back arched, my hands clawed into the sheets. Jeffery’s face is buried between my legs, his tongue lashing my clit, sucking down every ounce of me. I’m already close, already teetering, already screaming into the dark, and he loves it. He’s all teeth and tongue and wicked laughter, his mouth never leaving me, never giving me a second to breathe. I can’t think, can’t speak, just ride the spasms as he eats me alive.

When I come, it’s a lightning strike, a hard pulse that rips through me and crashes onto him, coating his face, his tongue, his grin, and he takes it, greedy, proud. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawls up over me, pinning me with his weight, his hands, his everything. He holds my wrists above my head....