Taboo Passions- Sylvia & Zach Read online

  Zach felt another wave of anger go through him, and he ran his hand through his blonde hair in annoyance.

  “Ya, man. Whatever.”

  There was no way he was going to let that jackass take his sister. No way in hell.

  ~Chapter 5~

  Zach couldn’t get his mind off of her. He was lying in bed, and it was already after midnight, but every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was her.

  She just looked so blissful. So happy. He’d never seen her look like that before.

  With him, she’d always just been a brat, always trying to take his stuff and make googly-eyes at his friends. But in that moment that she’d cum, it was all stripped away, and she was just... Sylvia.

  He brought his hand beneath the sheet, gripping his throbbing hardon. He’d been avoiding it, because the reason it was so stiff was because of his sister. It was wrong. He knew that. She was the only girl in the world off limits to him, but after seeing her like that, he couldn’t get the sight of her out of his head.

  He stroked himself, slowly at first, as if that would help. As if, somehow, his stiffy would just go away if he gave it a little attention.

  Instead it just throbbed more instantly, and he knew it wouldn’t go away until he came. But the only place he wanted to cum was in her.

  “Gross,” he growled at himself, but already he was stroking it faster. He threw off the blankets with his other hand, and leaned back into it.

  He wondered if she was still a virgin. She couldn’t be, not with how into it she was. But he’d never seen her with a boyfriend. She’d always been too dedicated to her gymnastic training. And she was so girly with her crush on Jacob, not like the usual women throwing themselves at football players.

  He moaned as he bucked his hips into his hand. He’d only just started, but already his balls were tightening, and he knew he was going to cum. Just thinking about sticking it into his sister, deflowering the all-mighty princess of their house, was driving him mental.

  “Sylvia,” he growled just as he came all over his hand and stony abs, staining a bit of the bed sheet as well.

  And still, even after he cleaned up, a bit of that stiffness continued, his cock throbbing against his inner thigh.

  He needed to have her.

  ~Chapter 6~

  Sitting in the stands, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He’d never gone to one of her performances before — who had time for that girly shit? — but now he was regretting it. She didn’t know he was there, and seemed a little nervous.

  He knew she musn’t have seen him the other day, because she was acting just as annoying as she always did, but he was even starting to like that. Like when he took the remote from her the other day, laying back on the couch so that she crawled over him, trying to grab it.

  He hadn’t been so hard ever before as she wriggled and writhed before finally, triumphantly, grabbing the remote from his hand. He’d stormed off after that, but not for the reasons she thought. He was just straining against his pants so tight he thought he was going to bust a nut then and there.

  It wasn’t much better watching her from the stands.

  He watched as her fingers went in along the edge of her leotard, pulling it from her skin to rearrange it. She was wearing a neutral coloured leotard, and it almost blended into her skin. He could envision her naked once more so easily, touching along her ass as she looked out at the crowd.

  And when it was her turn, it was like everything was in slow motion.

  Those movements of hers were unreal. Not just because they pushed the limits of the human body, but because they seemed so incredibly sexual to him. Those slender limbs of hers stretching out, bending, her body looking to him like it was nude, exposed for all to see as she displayed herself.

  He imagined her like that night in her room, pleasing herself, but for the whole crowd. No, for him.

  The lift of her leg up to her head, leaving her smooth little cunny exposed to him so crudely, letting him see that pretty little flower once more.

  Oh, she wasn’t really doing that of course, but that brief moment he had to see her naked and enwrapped in coitus was enough to burn the visual into his mind forever.

  She was so elegant as she pranced and contorted, like the little princess she thought she was. Zach was getting a growing appreciation for that, in proportion to the growth she caused in his pants.

  Though seeing her for the delicate little princess she was, only made him want to have her more. To sully that pristine look of hers, to get her beneath him and make her sweat in other ways, make her scream for him as he had her pinned.

  Oh, the number of times he’d kept her tiny form pinned beneath his broad, hard muscular physique… and he’d never even thought to take advantage of that? Seemed crazy to him now, his little sister was all he could think on. All he wanted, and knowing he’d had her pressed to him, beneath him, so many times felt like a world of lost opportunities.

  He was lost in his own world as she dominated the floor beneath, her motions so fluid and supple as she spread and displayed herself for the crowd. For him.

  And when she slid into a long, slow splits, he felt that throbbing in his pants more insistently. She bobbed a few times once she hit the bottom, going lower and lower before she arched her back, reaching for her back leg.

  She stayed like that for what felt like eternity. Her legs spread so wide, her back arching and showing off her little chest, her blonde hair still held tightly in its prissy bun. But Zach could envision it loose, tickling her bare leg.

  He throbbed again and he knew he needed some relief, but he was surrounded by people.

  Slowly, Sylvia righted herself to a standing position, instead lifting her right leg upwards, and he swore he could see the outline of her puffy little flower.

  He got up, pushing himself through the stadium seats, past the other onlookers. He had to get out of there!

  But when he got to the staircase, he had to look back. She was twirling again and then the music came to a crescendo and she finished her final flip to loud applause. Her smiling face went around the crowd before landing right on him, stood transfixed on the stairs.

  Her smile faltered, and Zach turned his back, rushing to the men’s room.

  ~Chapter 7~

  She didn’t ask him about it, even once she got home, but every time she looked at him, she wondered why he was there. What he wanted. Was he just trying to make fun of her?

  In all five years, he’d never watched her perform, and with her parents out on vacation, he had no reason to. It wasn’t like they forced him, that was sure. So why?

  She couldn’t puzzle it out.

  It was a Friday night, not that it meant much. School was out, and in two months they were both headed to college. Until then, weekdays and weekends were the same thing.

  She laid back on the couch, watching a movie and just trying to relax when Zach walked into the room, then turned to leave.

  That was odd. Most of the time he’d just come in, demand the remote, then chase her out of the den. He returned a few minutes later, though, with two glasses in hand, offering her one.

  “To having the house to ourselves,” he said, his brown eyes intent upon her. Sylvia muted the TV as she sat up, taking the wine with a raised brow.

  “Dad’ll kill you if you’re drinking the good stuff,” she warned him and he just shrugged.

  “Let him kill me. You deserve to take a load off.”

  That was weird.

  She decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth though, and took a long sip of the wine with a soft sigh of pleasure. Her shoulders rolled, she stretched her neck as the liquid worked through her.

  “That’s pretty good,” she said, not wanting to over inflate his already huge ego.

  “Yea,” he said, taking a mouthful of his own, though Sylvia doubted he even tasted it. He swallowed it too fast, not even enjoying the flavour. That was the difference between a refined gymnast and a burly football player, sh
e reminded herself.

  She still didn’t move her feet from the couch, though, not offering him a place to sit as she sipped her drink again. He stood, looming over her, watching.

  “You got a kink in your shoulder?” he asked as she stretched her neck again. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it, and gave a little shrug.

  “I guess,” she said, bringing her finger to a particularly troublesome spot. Her blonde tresses were tied back into a ponytail, and she rubbed her neck gently as she sipped the wine.

  “Here,” he said, laying down his glass on the coffee table, “let me.”

  It was something Sylvia never expected to hear from her brother, and she immediately suspected he was up to something. Instead, his two huge mitts went to her dainty shoulders and began to rub at them with strong, careful motions.

  She was so tense at first though, expecting something from him, some painful surprise, that it didn’t feel so good until she relaxed.

  She was still nervous, but maybe he’d just had a bit of a change of heart now that they were going off to college.

  But then her heart sank.

  Maybe Jacob said something to him and now he was taking pity on her.

  She pulled away, big, blue eyes looking up at him.

  “Why’re you doing this, Zach?”

  It was strange, seeing her huge, domineering brother — those broad shoulders and hulking physique — being anything but pushy and controlling. He had run roughshod over her life for so long, she just couldn’t take any offer of kindness at face value.

  “What? Can’t a brother help out his sister?” He said in his deep voice, but even he realized how weak of an excuse that was after so long, and his handsome face turned a little hard. “I saw your performance, and thought you deserved a break, geez, that’s all!”

  At least that angered irritation was a little more like him, though it softened and vanished fast as it came, oddly enough.

  She looked at him, her brows still furrowed in the middle, her pouty lower lip worried between her teeth.

  “Why’d you come to the performance? Did Jacob...”

  The one thing that reassured her was how confused he first looked at the mention of Jacob. Then set in the irritation again, and it confused her as to why her brother was so bothered by the mere mention of his best friend.

  “What? No, forget that loser,” he said, and she’d never heard her brother talk about his friend that way before.

  They’d been close for a long time.

  “What, you’re mad I like him now?” she said, setting her own glass aside and spinning around to look at him. She knelt on the cushions of the sofa, her hands braced on the armrest as she looked up at him. “That’s not fair, Zach, and you know it! If he likes me, you have to tell me.”

  That set him off a little, but his expression hardened again as he stood there, towering over her.

  “You’re too good for that jackass!” he blurted out without a moment’s thought or hesitation. “You’re talented, you’re clever, you’re hard working and you’re hot as hell! Stop wastin’ your time thinkin’ about that lose,” he said, before knocking back the rest of his wine as if it were nothing.

  Though his words nearly sent her toppling back. She’d never heard him talk like that about her. Ever.

  She stared up at him and she would’ve thought it was a joke, but she’d never heard him sound so sincere. So honest. He’d always given her a hard time about everything, and for the first time, he was actually complimenting her.

  She sat back on her heels, arms folded beneath her chest, the cotton t-shirt clinging to her svelte body.

  “Oh, what made you finally realize that, huh?”

  Finally his patience wore out, or at least his restraint.

  “You know what? Never mind,” he said, and gave her the smallest of nudges on the shoulder, so she rocked back onto the couch. He was so big and strong, and her so small and dainty, that it didn’t take much for him to shove her around, after all. But with that he turned to storm off.

  “Wait!” She cried out, and lashed out to grab his arm before he was out of reach.

  “You try and do somethin’ nice for someone, and all you get is grief,” he remarked with a furrowed brow and an irritated voice.

  Her dainty fingers wrapped around his wrist, but confusion was swirling in her head. She didn’t understand why he was suddenly so hot and cold, and she shifted from off the couch so that she stood before him.

  “What’s gotten into you, Zach?” she asked, and she was near enough that she could smell he’d put on a bit of cologne. Her nostrils flared.

  She also noticed that he was dressed in one of his nicer shirts and pants too, the sort of thing he’d wear out on a date night. She’d not paid it any mind at first, because it was Friday after all, and she was used to seeing him dress up before going out.

  “Nothin’!” he said obstinately, not meeting her eyes right away. “You did great today, that’s all,” he said, and swallowing down he squared his jaw and met her gaze at last, all serious.

  Though she knew that couldn’t possibly be all.

  Her brother had never been hard to read. He lived up to the jock stereotype — blunt, crass, and pushy. She kept his wrist pinned, and wondered what could be on his mind.

  ~Chapter 8~

  She just kept staring at him, questioning him. And maybe be hadn’t thought it through enough. What’d he think she’d do? Drink the wine and spread her legs without being a little brat about him being nice?

  All she ever did was give him flak, but he kept thinking back to just how into it she’d been, getting herself off, and he wanted to see her writhe like that on his cock.

  He yanked his hand away, moving towards the remote and grabbing it, plunking himself down on the couch. Maybe he could at least get her crawling all over him again, feeling him out. He’d just have to tease her until she did what he wanted.

  ~Chapter 9~

  The sudden change in his demeanor was both strange and reassuring. Because he was back to his old self, ousting her from her place and taking over, without so much as a word.

  “Hey, I was here,” she said, out of reflex more than anything. She climbed back onto the sofa, though, as usual, his bulky form made the cushions all sink into his direction. Only her trained grace kept her steady and not teetering his way.

  “Shut up and drink your wine,” he chastised her, reaching over with that big, thick arm of his and pinning her down to the couch for a moment.

  She struggled, but she couldn’t help it. She laughed a little. He was back to usual, and she brought her tiny fist to his chest.

  “I can’t drink my wine if you’re pinning me down, you brute,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

  Hearing that laugh from her seemed to lighten him up as well, and he gave her an extra tight hold to the couch for a moment before he finally released her completely.

  “Go on then,” he said, his own glass already drained of course.

  She picked up the stem of the glass, her body still tilted towards him with his heavy bulk on the couch, scowling as he put on a football game.

  She understood why people went to games in real life, but on TV it was just boring and the announcers were all annoying. She took another sip of her wine, though, trying to hold in her annoyance, but it was hard.

  She just wanted to reach over, grab the remote, and get back to watching her movie. But she knew what would happen then. He’d pull the remote away, make her scramble for it until he got bored and swatted her away.

  Well not this time!

  She drank back the reset of her wine, putting the glass aside and then she lunged forward. She had to get the remote back, and she knew she always lost in the past, but this time she had some wine in her and felt more confident about her odds.

  Instead of going right for the remote, one hand went to his side, fingers trying to tickle him as she got her footing on the couch and leaned forward with the other hand for the remote
.

  “You know I hate watching this garbage,” she said as her hand wrapped around the black object.

  Normally her attempts to tickle him didn’t meet much success, but for some reason — perhaps the wine, she thought — she managed to get a grin out of him as she attacked him, her little digits wriggling along his hard, stony muscles.

  “Hey, I’m King here, little Princess,” he said in his deep, husky voice, not letting her pluck that remote away from him as he put his other arm around behind her. Instead of shoving her away though, this time he pinned her down, pressing his palm into the small of her back so that she was locked in place atop his lap by his raw strength.

  It took her off guard. One of her legs was stretched behind her, trapped between his two limbs, the other one bent at her side, her foot pressed in on the cushion next to his hip. She writhed, but couldn’t push herself up without relinquishing her quarter of the remote.

  “Come on! You can have it all Sunday,” she pleaded, knowing that was the good day for football. She’d lived with him long enough to learn that.

  ~Chapter 10~

  Sylvia always that she thought she was so tough. She hated backing down from a fight, especially since she was fairly strong, especially compared to other five foot tall girls. She had good musculature, and she could wriggle out of any hold that Zach put her in, but she could never win.

  He was just too much bigger than her, and much more willing to go all the way in their wrestling matches.

  He left the remote just where it was, making her grind against his body as he wriggled it back and forth. Never further out of reach, but always just barely at risk of leaving her hand if she didn’t work for it.

  And every time she squirmed, she coaxed his cock to fill with just a little more blood.

  ~Chapter 11~