Chapter 2 Thanksgiving Sins- Two

• MELISSA
• **
• I slammed the door to the guest room, locked it, and dropped face-first onto the bed.
• I couldn’t breathe.
• He kissed me.
• Damian fucking kissed me.
• My heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
• I reached for the vodka bottle I’d snuck into my bag. Unscrewed the cap. Took a long sip. No chaser.
• Then I FaceTimed the only person who’d understand.
• “Bitch!”
• The screen lit up with Jasmine’s face, already mid-laugh. “Finally. I thought you died in that haunted ass house.”
• “You’re not gonna believe what just happened,” I whispered, still breathless.
• She squinted. “Wait… what’s with your face?”
• “He kissed me.”
• She blinked. “Who?”
• I gave her a look.
• Her jaw dropped. “No.”
• I nodded. “Yes.”
• “Melissa Marie Evans—did you tongue kiss your stepdad?!”
• “Soon to be ex stepdad,” I corrected.
• She burst out laughing. “You are so unwell. I love it.”
• “I didn’t start it!” I said, taking another sip of vodka. “He kissed me first.”
• “Did you shove your tits in his face before or after?”
• “Shut up.”
• She smirked. “So what now?”
• “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “He freaked out. Said it was a mistake and ran back inside.”
• “Baby, that man has wanted to fuck you for years. You don’t just kiss your stepdaughter and then call it a mistake like it’s spilled milk.”
• I stared at the ceiling. “He told me I looked nice. When I walked in.”
• “Duh. You’re hot.”
• I looked back at the screen. “Do I… go to him?”
• She stared at me. “Is that even a question?”
• I bit my lip.
• “Melissa. Go. Sit on his face. Do it for the bitches who never got to ride a DILF.”
• I started laughing. “You’re insane.”
• “I’m dead serious,” she said. “Finish your vodka. Then go get what’s yours.”
• I looked at the bottle.
• Then at myself in the mirror.
• Hair still messy. Hoodie oversized. No makeup.
• Didn’t matter.
• I still looked hot.
• And Damian?
• He wanted me.
• I was going to prove it.
• It was past midnight.
• I padded down the hallway on bare feet, heart pounding.
• Mom had mentioned—very loudly—that she and Damian hadn’t shared a bed in over a year.
• Something about his snoring. Whatever.
• I stopped outside his door.
• Deep breath.
• Then I turned the knob.
• Quietly stepped inside.
• The room smelled like him. Clean and warm. Dark cologne.
• He was lying shirtless on the bed, sheets half covering his hips.
• God.
• I crossed the room, climbed up onto the bed, and straddled him.
• He shifted under me. “What the—?”
• I kissed him before he could finish.
• His hand caught my wrist.
• “Melissa—what are you doing?” he rasped.
• “Kissing you,” I whispered.
• He opened his eyes, groggy and wrecked. “You’re drunk.”
• “I’m not,” I said. “I swear. I had a little vodka. That’s it.”
• He groaned. “You shouldn’t be here.”
• I kissed him again. Softer this time.
• He didn’t move.
• “Melissa…”
• “Tell me to stop,” I whispered, grinding against him.
• He inhaled sharply.
• I felt him harden under me.
• “I should,” he said.
• “But you won’t.”
• He cursed under his breath.
• He gripped my hips. “You’re making it really hard to be the responsible one.”
• “Then stop trying.”
• I licked at his throat, sucked softly right under his ear.
• “Melissa—fuck,” he hissed.
• I smiled against his skin, started rocking again.
• And that was it.
• He flipped us fast, body hovering over mine.
• “You want this?” he growled.
• “Yes.”
• “Say it.”
• “I want you, Damian,” I whispered. “I want your mouth. I want your hands. I want you.”
• He growled.
• “Fuck it.”
• He slid down my body, yanking off my sleep shorts and panties in one move.
• “Pretty little pussy,” he muttered, eyes locked on me.
• I gasped as he spread my thighs.
• “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured. “But I’m too fucking weak.”
• Then his tongue met my clit.
• And I shattered.
• “Damian—oh my God—”
• He groaned into me, licking deep, slow, messy.
• Tongue flat, then teasing.
• Circles and flicks and pressure right where I needed.
• His hands pinned my thighs wide open. His stubble scratched softly against my skin.
• I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
• “You taste so sweet,” he moaned, pulling back just to stare. “Fuck, you’re soaking.”
• “Please—don’t stop—”
• “Say it again.”
• “Don’t stop. Please—Damian—keep going—”
• He dove back in, sucking on my clit, tongue dipping inside me, and I swear to God—I saw stars.
• I was shaking. Moaning. Arching off the bed.
• “Let go,” he said. “Give it to me.”
• One more flick of his tongue—
• I came hard.
• Crying out. Clenching.
• He groaned like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, licking every drop.
• I was trembling when he came back up.
• His mouth was wet. His eyes dark.
• He kissed me hard, let me taste myself on his tongue.