Though my desire didn't subside in the least, I was careful while lying at my brother's side. As minutes passed in comfortable silence, my self-restraint gave me a swell of satisfaction. I could be good for Clint. I could be appropriate.

Finally, he said, "This morning, when you dropped your towel in front of me... it wasn't an accident, was it?"

I froze, weighing the best response. "Maybe not," I admitted, unable to keep the sheepish grin from my face. "I'm sorry I did that, because you acted like my naked body was the last thing you wanted to see."

"Because you're my sister," he said. "Not because..."

I held my breath, waiting for him to finish. When he didn't, I asked, "Not because what?"

"I'm just saying, you have a nice body." Clint sounded uncharacteristically flustered. "A sexy body."

His words filled my chest with a delicious warmth, and that heat proceeded downward, settling directly between my thighs. "I'm so glad you think so." Nuzzling his neck with my lips, I started to slide my hand along his stomach. My fingers followed the trail of hair lining his skin.

Gently, he stopped me by grasping my wrist. "I knew there was something between us as soon as you got out of your car yesterday. Of course, I didn't want to admit it, not even to myself."

I had to fight back a smile. "I honestly had no idea how you felt about me. I figured you saw me only as a sister." My fingers brushed against his. "I know I haven't exactly been subtle when it comes to my attraction toward you."

"I should see you only as a sister," Clint insisted, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself more than me. I heard his deep intake of breath. "Tell me I'm not a monster for wanting you, Sylvia."

In the darkness, I felt for his face so I could stroke his cheek. "Of course you aren't. No more than I am for wanting you."

"But I'm a lot older."

I had to snort at that. "You're thirty, and I'm twenty-three. I've been living on my own since I was eighteen, so I'm not some sheltered, naïve young woman you need to protect."

"I'll always want to protect you."

Though I wanted to argue, I felt such tenderness toward Clint that I couldn't speak a word. Lying in his embrace, I listened to his breathing deepen as he relaxed. Part of me feared he'd talked himself into keeping me at bay, at least in a sexual sense. But I already knew I would gladly accept whatever he was able to give me.

Just when I thought Clint had drifted off to sleep, he stirred. Neither of us spoke while he turned on his side. Gently, almost tentatively, he rested a hand on my belly. I could feel the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of my sleep shirt. 

His hand inched upward to cup my right breast. As he swept his thumb back and forth over my nipple, coaxing it to hardness, I allowed a faint moan to fall from my lips. 

That sound served its purpose of encouraging him. When he began lifting my shirt, I moved in order to make the job easier. The room's cool air wafted over my skin, but that wasn't the reason I trembled. 

Finally, my breasts were exposed. He continued touching me, fondling me. My breaths came faster, and I grew so wet that I could feel traces of lubrication clinging to my inner thighs. 

Clint lowered his head; his lips, so warm and soft, traveled along the curve of my left breast. Unable to resist, I stroked his hair, then guided him to my nipple. He teased that stiff peak with his tongue, circling all around it. 

A shudder rippled through me as he took my nipple in his mouth. His suckling started out gentle but quickly increased in fervency. I held him to my breast, my low cries edged with desperation. 

I felt the faintest hint of teeth, yet it was enough to make me buck my hips. Clint slipped a hand between my thighs. Again, his fingers sought out my swollen clitoris. 

"Oh, my God!" My voice quaked, betraying my wild arousal. 

By the time Clint allowed my nipple to escape his lips, I was practically panting. He let me draw his mouth to mine, and when our tongues met in a forbidden caress, my thighs clamped around his hand. 

Already, everything he was doing to me felt so exquisite that I had to blink back tears. Lust obliterated any restraint I had left. Shamelessly, I tried to pull my brother on top of me.

He didn't yield right away. Instead, his mouth traveled to my neck. The feel of his hot tongue drew another needy groan from me. I'd begun shaking nonstop, for his fingers were relentless at my clit.

"Come for me," Clint whispered.

The stimulation was nearly too intense, but I knew I was meant to obey my brother's command. Hovering at the precipice, I tensed my muscles, as if to coax forth an orgasmic contraction. The wanting, the arousal, was a kind of torment, unabated and seemingly impossible to satisfy.

Clint brought his lips close to my ear. "Come, Sylvia, and then I'll slide into your wet pussy."

His filthy talk, spoken between his own heavy breaths, sent me into the throes of a powerful climax. As I writhed and twisted from its force, I couldn't help but be glad that the darkness hid me from my brother's sight. 

"That's a good girl," he praised me in a guttural voice, which only summoned forth even more spasms. 

The orgasm eventually ebbed, though my clitoris continued pulsing and twitching. I heard Clint sit up. When I realized he was stripping off his sweatpants, I hurried to pull my shirt over my head. 

Carefully, he settled between my spread legs. I welcomed the weight of his body on mine as we shared another deep kiss. All the while, I was conscious of his erection pressed against me. 

"Are you sure?" he murmured against my lips. 

"Absolutely. I want you inside me!" I said in a rush.

Reaching between us, he coated the head of his cock with my ample juices. I let out a whimper of longing at the feel of his tip, firm yet so smooth, at my entrance.

Clint hesitated. Beneath my palms, the muscles of his back were rigid. I could feel the war of indecision taking place within him. 

I thought I would go mad if he made me wait a second longer. My hand slipped down to gently grasp his cock. He gasped and then groaned as I moved in an effort to take him inside me.

"Please," I choked out.

Easing his hips forward, he gave me the tip. It exerted an insistent pressure against my flesh, pushing me open. 

"Don't stop!" I begged him.

I felt my brother trembling, just as I was. This line, so forbidden, was now being crossed, and it offered no way back. He moved farther inside, then withdrew almost entirely. I feared he would pull out; instead, he inched deeper. 

"Christ, you feel so good!" he exclaimed. His thrusts grew bolder as he worked up to a steadier rhythm. Continual cries issued from my lips, and I kept my legs lifted and spread wide, offering myself fully to this illicit penetration.

In the darkness, senses other than sight grew keener. I easily heard my wet cunt yielding to the intrusion of Clint's cock. I smelled sex, and a trace of sweat. I swore I could discern every contour of my brother's erection.

Clint slipped his arms beneath me, and I delighted in the embrace. As his hips resumed their pumping, his mouth found mine. We both moaned, reveling in our furtive coupling. His lips moved to my hair; his hot breath drifted over my cheek.

Burying his face in my neck, he said, "I love you, Sylvia."

"I love you, too." My voice was high-pitched, unsteady. Sliding my hands over Clint's body, I cupped his buttocks in order to spur him on. "I'm gonna come!"

His rhythm faltered, bordering on frantic; those shallow thrusts made the bed squeak in protest. I wrapped my arms and legs around my brother. I needed him to anchor me here in this room, upon this bed, for I was struck by the fear that my bliss would grow powerful enough to break me apart. I feared losing myself to it entirely.

Clint must have heard the sob catch in my throat. "Shh," he soothed. "Just let go, baby." 

I wailed as another orgasm seized me. It was stronger, far stronger, than my first, seemingly pulled from my very core. Clint sucked in a sharp breath, his cock claiming me at an even faster pace.

"I'm close!" he panted. "Too close."

Yet he didn't pull out until my contractions had faded. Shaking beneath him, I let him slip from my grasp, and then slip out of my cunt. The sudden emptiness made me whine and wish for him to fill me again.

Clint knelt between my legs. I heard him pumping away at his cock as he strove for his own release. The first spurt of semen marking my belly caused me to moan. More rapidly followed; I imagined I'd soon be covered.

I loved listening to my brother's grunts and gasps, his strained groans. When a glob of cum landed just beside my nipple, I dared to gather it on my fingertip and lift it to my mouth. I'd never tasted a man's semen before, but I was eager for Clint's. Salty and thick, vaguely reminiscent of bleach, it was still milder than I'd expected. 

Hurriedly, I swallowed it down, trying not to leave a trace on my tongue. I didn't want him to taste his seed in our next kiss and consider me dirty for having tried it.

Still breathing hard, Clint moved to retrieve the flashlight. He was careful not to shine it in my face, instead directing its beam to my breasts and stomach. I noticed his pleased grin. 

"I made a mess of you," he said.

Looking down, I discovered he was right. "I don't mind this mess at all." 

He laughed low and soft. The flashlight's illumination permeated the shadows enough for me to get a look at my brother's cock, which was still mostly hard. That first glimpse made me shudder from a fresh wave of arousal. So easily, I could recall how every inch of his erection felt while deep inside me. As my core throbbed with renewed need, I was struck by the wild desire to lick him from base to tip. I wanted to nuzzle his pubic hair and try to catch my own scent clinging to those curls. 

I even longed to fondle and suck his sac. My urges astonished me, for I'd never been assertive and uninhibited in bed. If anything, I feared I'd come across as too eager for sex. But with Clint, I couldn't hide my lust. 

"I'll get a washcloth to wipe you clean," he said, then strolled from the room, flashlight in hand. I tried to study his ass, but he left deep shadows in his wake, which obstructed my view.

Lying on my back, I shivered as the room's chill descended on me. My brother returned and sat on the edge of the bed. Tenderly, he cleansed my belly of his cum. When he swept the folded cloth over my right nipple, I let out a pleasured moan.

"I love how responsive you are," he said.

"I don't normally carry on like a horny slut," I quickly told him. 

Again, that laugh bordering on seductive. "No?" His touch lingered over my other nipple.

"Just with you," I said, breathing faster.

"Mmm, I'm glad. Not that there's anything wrong with you being a horny little slut, but I want you to save that side of yourself for me." Leaning down, Clint kissed my mouth. 

His words made me almost giddy. Unable to control myself, I wove my fingers through his hair. As my tongue slid over his, he cupped my breast. Toying with my nipple, he rolled it between his fingertips.

Finally, I broke the kiss and tried to slow my shallow breathing. "You know I'm on the pill," I said, "so next time, you don't have to, um..." My face flushed hot with sudden shyness. "You can come inside me."

Clint sat back a little. His hand moved from my breast to my cheek. Stroking me, he said, "We can't take any chances, Syl. I'd never forgive myself if..." His voice trailed off, and seeing him turn his face away made my heart plummet.

"You're right," I rushed to agree. "We'll be careful."

Though his smile was faint, it filled me with relief. Eager to lighten the mood, I sat up and kissed his cheek. Taking the flashlight and soiled washcloth from him, I slipped out of the bed. He extended a hand, caressing my hip. That touch made me linger at the bedside for a moment before I headed toward the bathroom. 

I relieved myself and then rinsed the washcloth at the sink. In the flashlight's glow, I ran a brush through my tangled hair. My eyes looked especially bright, and my lips were slightly swollen from the kisses I'd shared with my brother.

Back in his room, I lay next to him beneath the covers. Breathing in, I could smell the scent of sex lingering in the air. Outside the house, the night was quiet; no longer did we hear ice pelting the window. 

"Hopefully the power will be back on soon," Clint said, sounding relaxed and drowsy. As he spoke, he idly stroked my hair.

It was then that I realized how much I owed the darkness, for it made what occurred between me and Clint that night possible. Hidden from each other's sight, we could also hide from our guilt. The shadows fed our mutual need and granted us permission to indulge our lust. 

Of course, I realized others would judge us severely if they knew. The knowledge made me ache to protect this new facet of our love; I wanted to keep it safe and nurtured in the warmth of our bed. 

Already, I dreaded morning's approach, and the cold light it would cast upon us both.