Dave sends Abbie away

Dave’s mind was a chaotic swirl of lust and frustration, but even as Leah’s hands fumbled with his belt and Tracey’s lips trailed fire along his neck, a sliver of clarity cut through the haze. This couldn’t keep going—not like this, not with Abbie standing there like some goddess of temptation and their mother likely minutes away from storming in. He had to get control, at least for now. With a growl of effort, he pulled back from Abbie’s intoxicating kiss, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to make her gasp.

“Abbie,” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal and strain, “you need to go. Now.”

Her eyes widened, a flash of hurt crossing her perfect features before it morphed into defiance. “What? No, Dave, I—”

“Listen to me!” he snapped, his anger surging back to the surface, sharpened by the urgency of the situation. “Mom’s going to find out about this—about you—and we’re fucked if she catches us like this. You need to get out of here until I figure out what to do.” He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to focus despite the way Leah’s fingers were now sliding under his shirt and Tracey’s breath was hot against his ear. “Go pack a bag, text Mom you’re staying at a friend’s house, and find somewhere to hide out. I’ll deal with her.”

Abbie’s lips parted, a protest forming, but the steel in his gaze stopped her. She saw the resolve beneath his lust, the part of him that was still her brother, not just her master. For a moment, she hesitated, then nodded, her sultry confidence giving way to a flicker of obedience. “Fine,” she murmured, stepping back, though her eyes lingered on him with a hunger that made his cock twitch again. “But this isn’t over, Beanpole. I’ll be back for you.”

She turned, her hips swaying as she sauntered toward her room, casting one last glance over her shoulder at Leah and Tracey, who were practically climbing over him now. Her jaw tightened, jealousy flaring hot and sharp in her chest. They don’t deserve him, she thought, her hands clenching into fists. I’m the one who made myself perfect for him. I’m the one he needs. But she **** a smile, a mask of satisfaction, because at least her master was happy—for now.

In her room, Abbie moved quickly, throwing clothes into an overnight bag with a reckless efficiency. Her mind raced, plotting, scheming. She couldn’t let those girls have him forever. As she zipped the bag, her eyes fell on the half-burned candle from the Aphrodite spell, still sitting on her desk. Next to it was their mother’s hairbrush, left there from some forgotten morning. A wicked idea sparked in her mind, and she grabbed both, shoving them into the bag. Magic runs in the blood, she thought, her lips curling into a smirk. Maybe it’s time Mom learned that too.

She pulled out her phone, typing a quick text to their mother: Staying at Jess’s tonight. Be back tomorrow. Then she slung the bag over her shoulder and slipped out the back door, the sounds of Dave’s groans and the girls’ moans echoing faintly through the house as she left. Her heart twisted with a mix of satisfaction and envy. He was happy, yes, and that pleased her—but it should’ve been her making him moan like that. Whatever it takes, she vowed silently, disappearing into the evening shadows. He’ll be mine.

Back in the living room, Dave had given up fighting the tide. The moment Abbie was out of sight, Leah and Tracey pounced, their enchanted need overwhelming any restraint he might’ve clung to. Leah yanked his jeans down, her mouth finding him with a **** eagerness that made him curse under his breath, while Tracey straddled his lap, peeling off her shirt to reveal breasts he couldn’t tear his eyes from. “Fuck, you two,” he muttered, his hands tangling in Leah’s hair as Tracey ground against him, her lips crashing into his in a kiss that was all heat and hunger.

The room filled with the sounds of their wild abandon—gasps, moans, the slap of skin against skin. Leah’s tongue worked him with a fervor that sent shudders through his body, her eyes locked on his with a worshipful intensity. Tracey rode his thigh, her nails digging into his shoulders as she whispered his name like a prayer, her voice trembling with the pent-up craving she’d carried all day. Dave’s head tipped back, his anger and worry dissolving into a primal rhythm, his enhanced virility pushing him past limits he’d never dreamed of breaching. Ninth, tenth, eleventh—he lost count as the girls took turns, their bodies a blur of pleasure that drowned out everything else.

But even as he surrendered to the ecstasy, a nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind: Abbie. And their mother—what would she do when she saw that text? When she realized what they’d been up to? The candle, the spells, Abbie’s transformation—it was all a ticking time bomb, and he was too lost in the throes of lust to stop it.

Meanwhile, Abbie found herself a quiet spot—a friend’s empty guest house she knew wouldn’t be checked. She dropped her bag on the floor, pulling out the candle and their mother’s hairbrush. The bristles still held a few strands of dark hair, and her pulse quickened as she ran her fingers over them. I need to protect and serve Dave, whatever it takes. She lit the candle, the flame flickering as she began to whisper words she’d memorized from the website, her voice low and determined. Whatever it took, she’d solve this.