Silks: A Taboo Kentucky Derby Romance

Chapter 4 （Teddy）

I lay on my back inthe trundle bed. There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to sleep tonight without jacking off. My dick was hard as a damn rock lying in such close proximity to my sister.

She was such a dirty hippie she hadn’t even showered before bed and I could smell her—a hint of sunscreen, that delicious smell of sun on skin, some kind of coconut from her shampoo, the mint from her juleps on her lips.

God, what would her pussy smell like? I wanted to bury my nose deep inside her cunt and just fucking inhale her scent.

Was she asleep? I shifted uncomfortably, my chest heaving up and down. There was a slick sheen of sweat on the back of my neck, and I could feel precum beading my dick, probably soaking through my boxers.

And the way she had looked when she came out of the bathroom in that big sleep shirt with no bra on! The T-shirt was big, but the material was thin, and I could see the round fullness of her breasts, her nipples taut against the fabric.

God, what I wanted to do to her.

Outwardly, I was a successful businessman, cold, powerful, uncaring about anything but winning and profits.

But inside, I was a freak, a sexual deviant, someone who should be doused in holy water, because all I had ever wanted was my twin sister.

She was the one I pictured when I touched my cock in the shower. It was her face I saw when I took a woman home. Her pussy I craved like a drug I needed to live.

I was just about to get up as quietly as I could and go into the bathroom to jerk off when I heard a noise.

It was Ophelia getting out of bed. She moved stealthily too. Like she didn’t want to be heard. I would’ve thought if she was just going to pee, she wouldn’t creep this carefully over me. She’d just step on my balls; she wouldn’t give a shit.

I opened one eye as she stepped over me, and I got a delicious view directly up that baggy sleep shirt she wore, the pink tips of her nipples visible from this angle, and the little bows on her thong panties.

Fuck.

Why did she have to be so hot even though she was an utter slob?

I had once broken up with a woman because she admitted she didn’t exfoliate, and here I was thirsting over my own sister who was grimy and probably took 2.5 minute showers to save the planet.

But none of my rules ever applied to Ophelia.

My sister crawled over me, not realizing that her twin brother was clutching the side of the bed with one hand to keep himself from jumping up and sinking his dick in her.

But I had been restraining myself for a long time when it came to her. I could control myself.

And I was right. She didn’t go to the bathroom at all, but opened the door to the hallway and slipped out.

Oh, God. What was she up to now?

I had a sudden searing fear.

What if she was slipping out to meet someone like Chet?

Over my absolute dead fucking body was she going to fuck anyone else while she was here.

I slipped out of bed and followed her. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and I heard a little noise down the hall. My sister was opening the door to Dad’s study.

What was she doing now?

My uneasiness increased.

I was desperate to see Ophelia. It was all I wanted ever since the day she left. I would take anything she gave me. Any scrap of time. I wanted her anytime she came home. Anytime she wanted to see me. But I was nervous about the possibility of her getting caught up in what Dad was planning for this weekend. It was supposed to be a simple operation. Once the money changed hands, Mintmaker’s high placement would be all but assured.

What the fuck could my sister want with Dad’s office? It wasn’t like he kept anything incriminating out in the open, but it was pretty fucking weird.

I crept along the hallway, stopping in the shadows across from the open door and there she was, standing on one leg and rubbing the other, digging through the filing cabinets.

She was using her phone for a flashlight, and she was so intent on what she was doing. For a moment I just hung in the shadows, feeling like a fucking creeper.

Even though that’s what I am, and I should really admit it.

My cock throbs again at the sight of her bent over the filing cabinets.

What I wouldn’t give to go in there and grab those hips in my hands, grip the softness of her curves, sink my cock in her.

I want her so badly it’s like I can almost taste her on my tongue, her faint lingering scent making me want to open my mouth and gulp it down, anything that’s hers.

I’m lurking so completely that I don’t even notice one of Dad’s security guards walk in front of me and push the door open.

“What are you doing in here?” he barked.

Instantly, I see red.

I’ve always been like that.

Absolutely no one will be coming up on my sister on my motherfucking watch.

She yelps and drops a bunch of papers on the floor like the inept little snooper she is.

“What are you doing here?” she shrieked.

Oh, god.

Whatever she’s up to, it’s clear she’s in over her head.

But this is something I think when I’m already halfway through the fucking door in my boxer shorts. When it comes to Ophelia, there’s no conscious thought. Just a deep, primal need for her big brother to protect her.

“What’s going on?” I snarl behind the guy.

I recognize him as Dan, one of Dad’s long-time security guys. But I don’t give a shit who or what he is.

He’s startled when he hears me.

“Oh. . . didn’t see you there, sir.”

“You don’t need to patrol this part of the house at night,” I tell him. “What are you doing here?”

“Your father asked me to keep an eye on his office, just in case,” he said, giving me a significant look.

My stomach turns inside out. God, surely Ophelia snooping around the office has nothing to do with that!

“Don’t you recognize my sister?” I asked coldly. “Patrol wherever else you like. Just not here.”

“Yes, sir,” Dan said, somewhat reluctantly. Ophelia is still standing there, breathing heavily, looking the very exact fucking picture of guilt.

“What were you doing in there?” he asked suspiciously as he turned to go.

“Looking for family albums,” she responds immediately, and she couldn’t possibly have chosen a more suspicious-sounding answer.

Oh, shit.

I’m going to have to watch her like a hawk the entire weekend to make sure she doesn’t get in trouble.

Luckily, that’s what I was going to do anyway.

“I’ll take it from here,” I told Dan firmly. “When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed immediately. I told you to leave.”

Dan did not look satisfied, but he nodded his head, then disappeared down the hall.

“Come on Ophelia,” I said, and for once she obeyed me, flouncing ahead of me out the door and back down the hallway.

“What were you doing in there?” I asked when we reached my room again.

“None of your business,” she said promptly. “Why were you awake anyways?”

I definitely don’t want to answer that question, so I grabbed her wrist as she turned to her bed.

“God! Let me go, Teddy!”

“Oh, I’m Teddy again? What happened to Theodore?” I asked, trying to ignore the way my heartbeat picked up at the sound of her voice saying my name.

She ignored me. “I said let me go, asshole!”

I was hyperaware of everything about her. Her heavy breasts brushed against me as I held her wrist, the taut tips of her nipples tight against her thin shirt. The need to take her clawed at me.

For one second, with her face so close to mine, the clear silky-smooth gray of her eyes glaring at me, I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself. For one second I’m afraid as she puts one leg in between mine to brace against the bed, trying to extricate herself from my grip, that I can’t stop, that I’ll finally do what I’ve wanted to do for so long.

Take her, no matter what she says.

I clenched my fist so tightly that my nails dug into my flesh and finally I can feel the control coming again, and I release her.

A few minutes later, I can tell from her deep, easy breathing that she’s asleep. Maybe I could go to sleep without having to jerk off. Then she rolled over onto her belly, her long hair falling over the side of the bed and into my face.

Shit.

I looked up and her leg was halfway hanging off the bed, which meant her delicious pussy was spread open right on top of my cock, her face and body only inches from mine.

There’s a pillow tucked between her thighs, ensuring she’s spread open, and I’ve never been jealous of a fucking pillow before, but I guess I am now.

My cock is instantly rock-hard again, inhaling the scent of her, the fainter coconut of her shampoo mixed with the mint juleps she drunk.

Her bra is hanging on the side of the bed because she’s a slob and I reach for it with one hand, bringing it to my nose.

It smells like her skin, like sun, like the sweetest temptation.

I brought my cock out with one hand, not daring to move for fear her hair would all fall off me. Her lips are slightly open, pink and soft. I want to do so many filthy things to them, but more than anything I crave just kissing them, tasting her, taking her sweetness for me.

I put my hand on my cock and God, it only takes a few impatient strokes before I feel like I could come already. Her legs are still open in her sleepy little lioness pose, her round hip jutting up in the air so that her pussy is spread wide open over top of me. Her sweet sleepy breath drifts across my face and I open my mouth to consume as much of her as I can.

It’s always the same way. When I’m with any other woman, I can go as long as I want, fucking in marathon sessions. When I’m alone and thinking about my sister it’s totally different. I can’t control myself, my hand moving convulsively over my dick, stroking my cock in hard, urgent pulls, grunting like an animal.

I have to grit my teeth to keep myself silent and I want to just smell her forever but I can’t stop the release spiraling at the base of my spine.

Her lips are slightly open and parted, and I raised my head just a few inches, just a little bit, letting my lips brush against her soft ones in a featherlight kiss.

It completely undoes me and I release into her sweet pussy hanging off the bed, right past that little thong that stretches her pussy lips and into her pussy itself. I watch as my cum shoots into her, coating her plump lips and entering her perfect-looking cunt.

I bury my ropes of cum in her until I can’t come anymore and then my chest is heaving, slick with sweat and the effort of staying silent.

She shifts a bit, rolling onto her back this time, and the thought of my cum now pooled in her means I can’t fully suppress a low noise somewhere between a groan and. . .I don’t even want to think about what. Something needy and desperate.

What if that gets her pregnant?

It’s unlikely, but the very thought is intoxicating, and once it’s in my head I can’t get it out. I’m gulping huge breaths of air because it’s the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had.

I can’t let her go back to Chicago.

Not now. Not ever.

I roll carefully out of bed and into the bathroom. Then my hands are on her toiletries bag and I’m riffling through it before I can even admit to myself what I’m doing.

When it comes to my sister, I have zero fucking morals.

I roll her birth control pack between my fingers.

There’s no going back after this.

But when have I ever been able to pull back or stay away from her? Or act like a brother should?

As noiselessly as I can, I rip open the packet, spilling all the pills into the sink. I chase and crush each one, grinding them into powdery dust and washing the remains down the drain.

When I’m done I take a deep, shuddering breath.

It’s not all that likely she gets pregnant from me covering her gorgeous pussy with cum, but the chance is too appealing to pass up.

But I want more.

A lot more.

I want to fuck her, fill her, make her mine in every way possible.

I resist the urge to see if I can slip my cock past those pouty pink lips without waking her up and lie back in bed.

There’s one more thing to do, and I move my fingers and slide them under her pillow for Ophelia’s phone.

I flick rapidly through her contacts. There’s no clue there why she decided to come home this weekend, or even that she told any of her friends.

My uneasiness increases.

I see a few of the text threads with some guys from Chicago. Casual, flirty. No tit pictures, but I’m jealous as fuck anyway. She’s obviously hooked up with some of them, and I recognize the name of her ex-boyfriend Matt, who I would recognize because I paid a PI to check up on my sister.

I’m jealous as fuck of anyone who has had sex with her, and I block each of their numbers, deleting the text threads without being able to stop myself.

Then I put the phone carefully back, my hand moving through her long loose curls, stroking her hair carefully so she doesn’t wake up, and I close my eyes and try to go to sleep wondering how horrified she would be if she knew the dirty fantasies about her I fall asleep to every night.