Nick makes it very hard for you

For much of the rest of the day, Nick is the perfect houseguest. While you try to work in between ducking into your bathroom repeatedly, for either ice-cold showers or furious sessions of masturbation depending on how much your fragile self-control is wavering, he dresses properly in a pair of still rather tight trousers then cleans up pretty much all the mess his friends made of your apartment. He even washes your cum and sweat-stained sheets so you're not assaulted by the smell of your coupling every time you duck back into your bedroom to hide from him.

In the evening, he takes the time to cook both of you a fairly simple, but welcome meal of pasta, chicken and tomato sauce. It's a very considerate gesture you would have never expected from him, and when he serves it to you with a guileless smile you feel your guts churn with guilt for ever taking advantage of your sweet baby brother the way you did. You almost start to believe he's changed his mind and has decided just as you have that the memory of that pleasurable night is better swept under the carpet and forgotten forever.

It's when he scurries back into the kitchen, takes a while in there, and finally comes back with dessert that you realize his sullen promise to make sure you end up bedding him again was no idle threat. Your mouth drops open as he saunters back into the living room, wearing your short white cooking apron, and nothing else. It's just big enough to cover his front down to the hips, but gives you tantalizing glimpses of his bare legs and sides as it shifts over his naked body. He's carrying a bowl of chocolate mousse in his hands, and by the wicked grin on his face as he places it on the table in front of you the little brat is probably expecting you to eat it off his bare skin or something. The delicious fantasy sends a longing pulse of white-hot lust through you, though your animal brain would rather smear your own aching erection in chocolate and feed it to him inch by inch until you're buried to the hilt inside his throat while he splutters and gags helplessly.

"Get dressed, Nick." You manage to snarl, your voice a rumbling growl you hardly even recognize.

"No." He pouts, his soft lip jutting forward. You scowl at him, forcing your gaze to stay on his face rather than drifting down to the soft, exposed skin of his bare thighs, aching to be grabbed and squeezed in your firm fingers. "You'll have to make me, Lucy." He snickers. "You know how, don't you?" You let out a strangled gasp as your baby brother twirls on the spot, showing you his bare, slender back and the apple cheeks of his smooth, quivering butt. Your cock strains against your trousers, trying to rip it's way through your clothes to get at the soft, tender hole that gave it so much pleasure last night. Just the memory of how his butt clenched and milked your shaft dry as you pounded him into the bed makes you moan and tremble. You feel like a bull seeing red, the mist of lust clouding your good judgement and leaving you on the verge of leaping from your chair and pouncing on him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" You stammer helplessly. Your hands are on your hips and you clench your fingers, digging them into your skin through the trousers. The sharp shock of pain is but a tiny distraction from the aching of your insistent erection, but at least with your hands there they won't slip away and do something you'll regret, like grabbing your baby brother and shoving him to his knees in front of you. "I can't...do that again, not to you!"

"Come on, big sis." He smirks over his shoulder, wiggling his hips at you. "I've been a very bad boy again, haven't I? Why don't you punish me, just like you did last night?" No matter how hard your conscious brain screams at you to resist, you can't stop your leering gaze from darting down his back again. You watch hungrily as his butt bounces and jiggles hypnotically, remembering just how amazing it felt to have him squealing and kicking over your knee while your palm turned every inch of those smooth cheeks red.

Why not...? A voice inside you whispers temptingly, like the voice of a succubus. He deserves it, doesn't he? For pulling this shit and trying to seduce you like the naughty little boyslut he clearly is. You already know he doesn't respond to any other form of discipline, but he was so very good and obedient after you spanked him last night. He is such a naughty boy, and that's what naughty boys get according to several of the carefully curated pornographic videos on your laptop. And if it ends the same way...well, you've already made that mistake once. He's clearly **** for another hard fucking with your thick New Female cock, he wants it bad, or why else would he be doing this? Why not give in a second time? It wouldn't make things any worse.

"No." You snarl, jumping up from your chair so fast it's sent skidding across the floor behind you and tumbles back onto the carpet. Nick flinches back, but the wet look of doe-eyed nervousness in his gaze as you scowl lustfully at him just makes him more attractive. The apron flutters over his body, his pale hands playing with the edge. He's never looked more innocent and attractive, the perfect pale prince for you to thoroughly defile.

Somehow you find the strength to tear your gaze away, but the effort of forcing it is almost painful. You have to bite your lip and dig your nails into your palms to keep yourself from jumping on him, and instead you start to waddle awkwardly towards your bedroom, your aching erection pressing against your leg. You'll lock yourself in the bathroom for a few hours, jerk off a few times without thinking of any of this, then have a very, very cold shower. If you hide from Nick long enough, he'll realize this can't go on, right? Get himself dressed again and stop trying to tempt you like this, stop trying to **** you to hurt him again. He's still your baby brother...he still loves you as his older sister, doesn't he?

"Lucy, wait." You freeze as his sweet voice rings in your ears, trembling with longing. "I can't...I can't go back to just pretending I don't...like you that way. Now that I know you want me too, I just can't." Stupid, stupid boy. Your heart clenches. This is your fault still. If you'd just controlled yourself last night he'd have gotten over this crush and gone and hitched up with some grungy alternative girl instead. You could have watched from the sidelines as she kissed him...trying to ignore the white-hot jealousy you'd feel even seeing her hands on his perfect skin, knowing that she'd be bedding him instead of you. He belongs to you...he's yours, you'd scream inside, but you could have controlled yourself, mostly. Now though, you know just how good it feels to give in, to use him roughly, then cuddle him tenderly to your chest afterwards. Now you're not sure you can resist, and each moment you stay here in painful uncertainty your fragile resolve wavers. How could you do this to him again? How could you not...? "Please...Lucy." You hear him whimper. "Please..."