When I opened my eyes, I quickly realized I'd slept late once again, for I was alone in the bed. Extending my hand, I slid my palm over the sheet where Clint had lain beside me. The cotton no longer held the heat from his skin. 

In the quiet of the room, I heard the flood of warm air spilling from the vent. The power had come back on at some point. My sleep shirt was beneath the covers, near the bottom of the bed. I hurried to pull it on before leaving the room in search of my brother. Even as the excitement of last night lingered around me like a presence, I fought back a surge of anxiety. Now that the morning had arrived, I had no idea how Clint would greet me.

What if he was overwhelmed by guilt? What if he now despised me? Those thoughts made my stride falter, and I had to steel my spine in order to continue down the hall toward the kitchen.

I found him standing at the sink, with his back to me. Beyond the window, a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground. Weak sunlight made the ice coating every surface sparkle like the rhinestones in Gran's costume jewelry.

Though I was perfectly content to stand there and quietly study Clint, he must have sensed me. Turning around, he offered a tender smile. 

"Good morning, Syl," he said in a low voice.

"Good morning." When I took a step toward him, and then another, he set his coffee mug on the counter and moved to close the distance between us.

Tilting my head upward, I searched his face. Since we'd arrived here, I'd been the bold one, making blatant advances he couldn't possibly overlook. But I couldn't be the assertive one now. Not when I was terrified of being rejected. 

Clint opened his arms to me, and I stepped into his embrace. I felt his lips on my hair as he rubbed my back.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Again, I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. "Like everything is perfect since I'm here with you."

His smile widened. "Me, too, Sylvia." Cupping my face in his hands, he gave me a sweet, lingering kiss. With that loving gesture, my brother banished all fears from my mind.

Lowering his lips to my neck, he playfully nibbled at my skin. "Want some breakfast?" he offered. "I'm not the best cook, but I can make pancakes."

"I think I might run a hot bath first, if that's okay." Maybe it was only my imagination, but I worried I still smelled like sex. Of course, Clint didn't seem to be at all put off by the scent, but I wanted to soak in the tub for a bit. I also needed to finish shaving my legs, since I'd been prevented from doing so yesterday after I used up all the hot water in the shower.

"Take your time," he said. "I'm going to have another cup of coffee."

I was certain I could feel his stare on me as I left the kitchen. Was he looking at my bare legs, or the curve of my ass beneath my shirt?

I couldn't stop grinning while running the bath. He didn't regret last night! A phantom warmth lingered on my lips following the kiss he'd given me. It was thrilling to be treated as his lover.

My elation continued as I sank into the tub; I wanted to laugh from sheer happiness. For a brief moment, I wished I could tell someone, a trusted friend, that I'd fallen madly in love. But of course, that wasn't possible. 

And it never would be.

Though I resolved not to spend a long time in the bath, the water's heat lulled me into drowsiness. My hair was pinned on top of my head, and I settled back, allowing my eyelids to slowly close. I'd already shaved my legs and underarms smooth, so I could now take a few minutes to relax.

A few minutes must have passed several times over, for I'd almost dozed off when I heard a soft knock at the door. My eyes snapped open, and I quickly sat up. "Come in!" I called.

Clint opened the door just enough to poke his head into the room. I noticed his smile looked sheepish. "Just wanted to check if you needed anything." As he spoke, his gaze dropped to my breasts. 

"I'm sorry I've been in here so long!" Immediately, I moved to rise.

"No, no, stay right there," he insisted. "I shouldn't have disturbed you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." 

I watched as he entered the room, then closed the door behind him. 

"I think this is the warmest place in the house right now," he remarked. "It feels nice."

The small bathroom did indeed get toasty when the door was closed and the heat was running. Clint was in a pair of sweatpants, heavier than those he'd worn to bed. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled halfway up his forearms. 

When he sat on the side of the tub, I inched toward him. "You know," I said, wearing my sweetest expression, "I'd love it if you washed my back."

"I'd be happy to, sweetheart." His voice had lowered to that seductive tone I loved, and his stare was hot as he regarded me.

Moments later, he slid a soapy washcloth over my skin. A moan of unadulterated pleasure escaped me, and I leaned forward, giving him easy access to my back. Once he'd gently scrubbed me clean, he worked his way upward, massaging each of my shoulders.

"Oh, that feels good," I sighed. 

"Need help with anything else?" Though he tried to sound casual, I knew his arousal was growing, just as mine was.

Leaning back, I stared up at him. His lips were slightly parted, and I heard his quickened breaths. Wordlessly, I gathered my breasts in my hands, making an offering of them. 

Clint didn't bother using the washcloth this time. Instead, he caressed my nipples with soap-slick fingers. They hardened even more from his attention. Soon, it became difficult for me to stay still in the tub; as I writhed beneath my brother's touch, the water languidly sloshed over my body.

"Let me see you," I said. "I only got glimpses of you naked last night."

Clint's hand lingered on my breast. "You want me to get undressed?"

Giving him a pleading look, I quickly nodded.

He raised an eyebrow as his fingers continued their fondling. "I think," he said, "you just want to see how hard you've gotten me."

I whimpered in response. With my brother, I had absolutely no shame.

"Alright then." Clint climbed to his feet, his movements deceptively nonchalant while he pulled his shirt over his head. So vividly, I remembered sliding my palm over his bare chest the night before. I recalled the feel of his coarse hair against my cheek. 

Slowly, teasingly, he lowered his sweatpants and briefs. Finally, he straightened up, giving me a perfect view of his erection. The memory of his tip pressing against my slick flesh sent a tremor of need through me. His shaft was lined with veins that I longed to trace with my tongue. I noticed his pubic hair was a little darker than mine, and his substantial balls would present a challenge for me if I tried to take them in my mouth at the same time.

Clint gave his cock a stroke. "Look what you've done to me, Sylvia." His voice sounded guttural, edged with blatant lust.

When he cupped his balls in his other hand, I started playing with my nipples. Lying back against the tub, I let my legs fall open as far as the narrow space permitted.

"That's it, touch yourself for me," he coaxed. His hand moved faster, betraying his heightened excitement. "Let me see you play with your pussy."

It was such an intimate thing, what he was asking, yet even while a blush heated my cheeks, I slipped my fingers between my thighs. Clint dropped to his knees, the bathmat providing a thin cushion. Intently, he studied my sex, his tongue darting out to glide over his lips. 

Growing bolder, I spread my outer labia. His satisfied groan made me throb. Together, we masturbated, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the room. Clint stroked at a more fervent pace, and I rubbed my clit beneath the water, aching to come. 

"I love seeing you like this." His stare drifted to my face before returning to my pussy. "You're so fucking beautiful, and it felt incredible being inside you last night."

It was not only his words, but also the vulnerability in his expression, that made me cry out. "It feels natural between us, doesn't it?" I asked, my voice high and breathy. 

Our eyes locked. "It feels perfect," he whispered.

I came for him, my climax so powerful that I almost sent water spilling over the side of the tub. My thighs quaked, and as I continued massaging my clit, waves of bliss repeatedly inundated me. 

The sight proved too much for Clint. "I need to come." Quickly, he rose to his feet.

Still quivering, I hurried to sit up. Before he had a chance to retreat, I balanced on my knees, facing him. The tub was uncomfortably hard beneath me, but I knew this wouldn't take long. 

Clint froze, staring down at me. In response, I opened my mouth. 

It took no time for us to line up our bodies. As soon as he brought the tip of his cock to my lips, I extended my tongue and gave it an eager lick. My brother drew in a shuddering breath, letting it out as a groan when I took his glans in my mouth. 

He stroked my hair but didn't force me. Instead, his voice was almost pleading. "My God, Sis! Yes!"

My eyes widened while I bobbed my head back and forth, with my hands braced against the side of the tub. He hadn't called me Sylvia, or any of the other affectionate terms he often used, like baby and sweetheart. No, he was acknowledging exactly who I was to him. I'd figured he tried to put that out of his mind while we were being intimate, yet he clearly kept it at the forefront of his thoughts.

Why did it excite me so much? I told myself it was because I could relax, knowing my brother wasn't appalled by what we were doing. If he wasn't ashamed, he was far less likely to stop. 

But maybe it wasn't just that. Maybe it was also the forbidden aspect, which led me to wonder if it excited him as well.

Suckling his tip, I caressed it with my tongue. A tremor coursed through him just before he warned he was close. Still, I kept up my oral pleasuring, moaning all around his dick. 

I was just about to slide my lips farther down his length when he tensed. His hand was firm yet gentle on my head.

And then he filled my mouth with his seed. I allowed it to gather on my tongue and in the back of my throat until it threatened to leak from my lips. Finally, I gulped, my swallows audible. Another moan escaped me, letting him know how much I enjoyed draining him dry.

Clint withdrew, leaving a strand of cum-heavy saliva suspended between his cockhead and my bottom lip. I wiped at my mouth before flashing him a smile.

He returned it while caressing my cheek. Though he'd come, his erection was slow to soften, and his cock occasionally twitched. When I started to climb to my feet, he rushed to help me.

I let him wrap a clean towel around my body. I'd grown a little chilled while sitting up halfway out of the water, but his embrace served to keep me warm. He planted a kiss on my forehead and the tip of my nose, and then on my lips. 

"Thank you," he whispered. "I'll be sure to return the favor later."

I ducked my head, trying to hide my giddy smile. 

After I stepped out of the tub, Clint asked, "Do you enjoy that? Having a man come in your mouth?"

That made me look up sharply. Did he think I was dirty for swallowing his semen? Or that I was willing to do that for any other guy? "I never have before," I said quietly. "I always finish Bo off with my hand."

"Bo..." Clint's expression filled with recognition. "Your roommate?"

Averting my eyes, I said, "We're not in a romantic relationship or anything, but he's a good guy, and sometimes..." 

"Hey, I understand." When Clint grazed my lower lip, I couldn't resist swirling my tongue around his thumb. Through a moan, he said, "Just so you know, no other woman has let me do that."

His revelation prompted my smile to return. "So it was a first for both of us."

"Sure was." He sought out my mouth for another kiss. "You've given me a gift, Sylvia. This morning, and last night. And I will never, ever take it for granted."

I allowed the towel to fall so I could wrap my arms around my brother. Though my skin was still damp, he hugged me close. For several perfect moments, we stayed just like that, and I realized not even the morning's light could shame us.