I was awoken by a cold breeze along my back as my duvet was lifted, my eyes tried to adjust to the darkness as my delirious mind clung to the remnants of a dream I was having.

Before I could even turn my head I felt the length of his warm body against my back, his hands traced my waist and wrapped around me, pulling my sleepy form into him, enveloping me in a guilty cocoon of his heat and musk.

“It’s just me,” His hushed voice caressed my cheek with his warm breath, “Mom and Dad are asleep.” His reassurance was all I needed as I melted into him, wiggling my hips against him.

“Are you sure they won’t hear us?” My voice was sleepy, harbouring a yawn, My heart fluttered with the anticipation of another illicit encounter with my older brother. He began sneaking into my room a couple of nights ago.

On that fateful night we sat in the living on opposite sofas, I was wearing my pink pyjama shorts, watching his shirtless chest, his slim frame adorned with defined muscle, things I never noticed growing up. Almost instinctively I brought my knees up to my chest and timidly opened my legs, hoping he’d be watching.

As that evening progressed I didn’t dare look his way, my heart pounded as I gently opened my legs, revealing the soft curves of my legs and the thin barrier of pink fabric between them. My fingers wandered down, gently and “accidentally” brushing the fabric aside, slowly revealing more and more of my femininity to him, I needed him to see me. I could feel the cold air of the room on the exposed skin of my pussy. I quickly glanced over at him, catching him stealing glances. His attention made me instantly slicken with excitement, I wanted him to see it, the glistening invitation.

Later that night I laid awake, wrestling with the guilt and shame of my actions. How could I let these feral emotions drive me to such unholy depths of depravity. Yet, as I laid there, the mere thought of his touch caused my shorts to stick to me and my heart to quicken. I focused on our relationship, the friendly touches, the prolonged hugs, his knee grazing mine on road trips, God, I wanted more.

The turmoil of my solitude was cut short, I heard the faintest knock on the door, I knew immediately who it was. My voice fluttered as I invited him in, “It’s open” my voice cracked as the door creaked open, his silhouette appearing in view, promising a permanent shift in our relationship.

He quietly approached my bed, avoiding the creaking floorboards. I pulled the duvet up to my lips, peering deep into his eyes through the darkness, “What’s up?” I whispered, feigning ignorance at this impending unholy union. I rubbed my thighs together with a carnal anticipation of his touch, the looming closeness and the taboo of this connection.

“The heater in my room is busted, do you mind if I jump in with you?” His request stirred a thrilling conflict in my mind, will I break this barrier? Will I let my brother into my bed?

“I’m...” The word teetered on my lips, “I’m cold too.” The invitation spilled out of me like the wet affection earlier that evening. Before I could collect my thoughts, the bed sagged under his weight as the heavy blankets shifted.

His gentle hands wrapped lovingly around my waist as I felt his warmth enter the bed. He pulled me firmly into him as we tried desperately to remain silent. I felt his face at the back of my head, tangled in the mess of my hair, his thighs at the back of mine, his exposed torso along my back igniting a current of forbidden heat.

The pretence of sleep was futile as I laid awake deliberating whether his feeling mirrored mine, was this just an innocent moment between siblings or was it more? What I needed it to be? I gently moved and lifted my shirt up, letting my bare back press into his searing abdomen, the sensation was a visceral and forbidden connection of bodies, I wanted to melt into him and become one.

I sensed his excitement in that moment, his hips pulled in a telling manoeuvre, even if nothing were to happen I wanted to feel his affection.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, feigning ignorance. As he squirmed back, I could feel his lips part with an answer as hit warm breath ignited the back of my neck; “I’m sorry, I’m just...” Emboldened, I interrupted his excuses, “You don’t want me to feel it?” I whispered the playful question into my pillow as I pushed my hips back into him while his grip around my belly tightened, I elicited a hushed groan from his lips.