Chapter 18: 🌶️ The Immoral Mark

Back in the bedroom, I can feel it—I need to get away for a bit. I need to calm down, to breathe. The only excuse I have left is the damn shower.

Me: “I’m gonna take a quick shower.” Emma barely looks up at me, already stretching out on the bed.

Emma: “Take your time.” Easier said than done.

I step into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. My movements are automatic—I strip off without thinking, the towel landing on the floor, and I turn on the water. Cold. Freezing, even. But the second I step under the stream, I know it’s useless.

She’s there. In my head. Every fucking second.

I see her again, adjusting her swimsuit, that perfect body that’s driving me out of my mind. The heat from the water feels like it’s crawling up into my brain, and no matter how cold it is pouring down over me, this burning tension won’t let up.

I close my eyes, and there she is. In this room. Not just in my thoughts—I can see her stepping in, quietly, without a word, her skin still glistening from the heat of the sauna. I imagine her reaching for the curtain, pulling it back just a little, her eyes meeting mine.

She’s naked, of course. Her hair cascades over her shoulders, and every curve of her body seems to catch the light. She moves toward me, her steps fluid, her gaze smoldering. She slips under the water with me...

Fuck.

I can’t help it. My body reacts on its own, and my hand drifts down slowly, almost mechanically. I’m caught in this spiral, completely powerless to stop myself.

I picture her body pressed against mine, her soft, teasing voice whispering, “Brice, I want to feel you...”

My hand moves faster, my thoughts spiraling completely out of control. Every detail is fire. I imagine her hands sliding over my body, wrapping around my cock as she whispers in that husky voice, “I want it in my mouth. Right here, right now.”

I’m seconds away from losing it, my breathing ragged, when a voice cuts through everything like a blade.

Emma: “Brice? What are you doing? Are you done, or what?” I jolt, my thoughts shattering into a thousand pieces, and nearly slam into the shower wall.

Me: “Yeah ... yeah, two seconds!” My voice comes out rough, almost strangled.

I press my hands against the tiled wall, my chest heaving as I try to steady myself. Fuck. She’s right there. Just on the other side of the door.

And then, like an idiot, my mind starts spiraling again.

I picture her opening the door, stepping in slowly, her eyes locked onto mine, that mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Brice ... You should’ve told me you needed help...”

She stops right in front of me, her fingers brushing lightly against my hips, her warm breath grazing my skin. Her eyes gleam with a teasing, almost tender glint.

“You know your little sister will always be here to help you, right?”

Her low voice, almost a whisper, keeps echoing in my head like a forbidden melody that refuses to let go. I close my eyes, and I picture her...

I imagine her stepping into the shower, the water streaming down her skin, tracing the length of her bare legs. She moves closer, hesitant, before slowly lowering herself to her knees, her skin grazing the wet tiles. Her lips part just slightly, and I can almost hear that soft sigh escape her—a mix of sweetness and raw desire.

“Hmmm...”

In my mind, I hear it. That rough, guttural sound, a breath heavy with tension, shakes my thoughts to the core. Her mouth would slowly descend on me, her warm breath grazing my skin, a sharp contrast to the cool droplets still cascading over her body. That imagined heat would consume me, pulling me under completely.

“You’re so tense...” She’d whisper that to me, her voice soft and teasing, the kind of tone I can’t get out of my head.

“Let me take care of that.”

In this scene my mind keeps replaying, every sound—every wet, obscene noise—Grmm ... Hmm ... Slrrp... —feels amplified, consuming, almost too real. Her eyes, locked onto mine, would hold that defiant, intense gaze, daring me, as she picks up the pace, slow at first, but relentless.

“Mmmhhh...”

I can hear her moaning, those muffled sounds slipping out between each movement, like she’s savoring every second. The wet noises echo in my head—the slap of water against her skin, those slick, obscene sounds that won’t stop haunting me.

Everything feels so real in my mind that I can’t stop. I see her there, on her knees in front of me, her lips sliding slowly down my length, her warm mouth taking me in completely. Her tongue swirls against my skin, and her eyes stay locked on mine—provocative, pleading.

In my fantasy, I lose all control. My hands grip tightly in her wet hair, anchoring her, and I pull her head toward me, burying myself deep.

“Glk ... Hmm ... Slrrpp...”

I picture myself pushing even deeper, without restraint, feeling the tight contractions of her throat around me. The wet sounds of her mouth, the intense slurps, her muffled gasps ... it all echoes, amplifying this vivid illusion. Her hands grip my thighs tightly, trying to keep up with my rhythm, her breath turning ragged, almost erratic.

“Glkk ... Hmmn...”

And then, I break. My entire body tenses all at once, and I cum hard, my release splattering against the shower wall, mixing with the water streaming down.

It’s over. I open my eyes, gasping for air, staring at the empty shower in front of me. But the images are still there, burned into my mind—searing, obsessive, impossible to shake.

I blink hard, snapping back to reality, the weight of it hitting me like a brick wall. The cold water streams down my skin, but the heat from that vision lingers, shameful and suffocating.

Fuck, Brice...

I rinse off quickly, as if I can wash away the moment, and step out of the shower.

In front of the mirror, I catch my reflection—my face flushed, my eyes haunted. I wrap the towel around my waist, then pull on my pajamas. My heartbeat is still pounding in my chest, loud and relentless.