She had always known it was wrong, but the second her brother’s hand slid up her thigh under the dinner table, Dove Cameron stopped caring. “You’re soaked already,” he muttered low enough that their parents couldn’t hear. His fingers pressed against the thin fabric of her panties, rubbing slow circles over her clit until she had to bite her lip to stay quiet.
Later, when the house was dark and everyone else was asleep, he came to her room without knocking. Dove was waiting on the bed in nothing but an old T-shirt.
He kicked the door shut and yanked the shirt over her head. “Been thinking about this all week,” he growled, pushing her onto her back and spreading her legs wide. He buried his face between her thighs and licked her like he was starving, tongue dragging through her folds before sucking hard on her clit.
Dove moaned, hips jerking. “Fuck, don’t stop.” He didn’t. Two thick fingers pushed inside her, curling against her G-spot while his mouth worked her relentlessly. She came hard, thighs clamping around his head, but he kept licking through the spasms until she was shaking.
He stood up, wiped his mouth, and freed his cock. It was thick, already leaking. Dove reached for it immediately, wrapping her fingers around the shaft and stroking. “You want your sister’s mouth?” she asked, voice filthy. He answered by grabbing her hair and guiding her down. She took him deep, gagging when the head hit the back of her throat, spit running down her chin as she sucked him sloppy and eager.
He pulled out before he came, flipped her onto her stomach, and hauled her hips up. One hard thrust and he was buried inside her. Dove cried out into the pillow while he fucked her rough, skin slapping, balls hitting her clit with every stroke. “This pussy is mine,” he grunted. “Say it.”
“Yours,” she gasped. “My brother’s cock owns this cunt.”
He reached under her, rubbing her clit in tight circles until she came again, walls pulsing around him. Only then did he let go, pounding deep and filling her with hot pulses of cum. He stayed inside her afterward, breathing hard against her back, fingers still lazily circling her sensitive clit.
They didn’t talk about stopping. They just kept going—round two in the shower with her pressed against the tiles, his cum still leaking down her thighs, then again on the floor when they couldn’t wait to reach the bed. By morning Dove was sore, marked with fingerprints and hickeys, and already planning the next time she could have her brother’s cock again.
