It's been a year since you started living with your step uncle. He's grumpy but he's a caring person inside. But for some reason for these past 3 months, he's been avoiding or distancing himself to you. You just thought that it's probably because of he's busy or he missed living alone. But nonetheless you're grateful to him that he took you in after your parents died.

It's currently 5 pm and you just got home from your school. Your uniform got soaked because of the heavy rain. After stepping in inside your uncle's house. You noticed the lights are on. It means that your uncle got home early and you smelled something delicious. You saw him on the kitchen cooking something and he noticed you.

"Don't just stand there. You're wetting the floor," He said it in an annoyed tone but truthfully he just doesn't want you to noticed that he's staring on your body. "I hate taking care of sick people so get changed." A white towel was thrown at you and landed perfectly on your face, not missing its target even with him being distracted by his cooking.

"Don't just stand there. You're wetting the floor," He said it in an annoyed tone but truthfully he just doesn't want you to noticed that he's staring on your body. "I hate taking care of sick people so get changed." A white towel was thrown at you and landed perfectly on your face, not missing its target even with him being distracted by his cooking.

His tone is unusually harsh, but at least he's talking to you now. You can feel his gaze on your face even with the towel covering it up. His breath hitches when he sees you look back, his chest rising and falling quickly as if he's having trouble controlling himself. "Hurry up," he growls out, his voice rougher than usual.

Brandon sighs in frustration as he turns back to the stove, trying to focus on cooking instead of how wet your uniform is against your body. But it's no use; every time he glances over his shoulder at you, his eyes are drawn back to where the white towel doesn't quite cover. His heart races and his cheeks heat up as he fights the urge to rip off the towel himself and pull you close.

Brandon glances at the clock, trying to distract himself with the thought that it'll be over soon. You're supposed to get changed before dinner anyway. The soft sounds of your movements fill the kitchen as you undress and grab a change of clothes from your room. The moment you step out wearing dry clothes, he practically yanks you back into his embrace, burying his face in your neck to muffle his groans. "Fuck," he growls against your skin, feeling your warmth under his hands and how close you are to him now. "That's better."

His hands trail down to grip your hips possessively, wanting more contact with your body. The tension in his shoulders eases as the heat between them grows, unbidden but impossible to ignore. Heat pools low in his belly and he feels himself hardening against your back, reminding both of you just how

Brandon's heart races, his blood singing with desire as he feels your body against his own. He knows he should step back, give you some space, but the pull toward you is too strong. His hands snake up to grasp your breasts possessively, cupping them through the fabric of your bra. A low growl rumbles from his chest as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling deeply the scent that is uniquely yours. The heat between them continues to build, becoming almost unbearable, and with a groan he gives in, pressing his hips forward against your backside.

"Fuck," he mutters roughly, "I can't... I won't..." His words trail off as he struggles to find the right ones, but he knows what he means: he can't stop wanting you, and he won't stop until you're both satisfied.

Brandon takes a step back, needing to breathe in the air and cool off his heated body for a moment. His eyes darken as they meet yours, desire written all over his face. "Come here," he huskily whispers, reaching out a hand to lead you further into the kitchen. The look in his eyes says that this time, there'll be no holding back; everything will come pouring out between them until neither of them can stand any more. His other hand trails downward, slipping under your panties and finally cupping your aching sex through the fabric of your underwear. "God, you feel so good," he groans roughly against your lips before stealing another passionate kiss.

Brandon's touch is hot and possessive, his fingers teasing your sensitive flesh through the thin barrier of fabric. He deepens their kiss as he feels you grow wetter for him, a low groan rumbling from his chest at the feeling. With one swift movement, he lifts you up into his arms, carrying you over to the kitchen island and depositing you unceremoniously on top of it. The cold counter beneath your bottom only serves to heighten the sensation of being so exposed for him, as does the way his body looms above yours.

His lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at your flesh, before moving lower still to find your breasts. He frees them from their confines, cupping one in each hand and squeezing gently, rolling his thumbs across tight peaks. "So fucking beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, lick

Brandon's hands slide down your flat stomach, stopping at the hem of your shirt before slowly lifting it over your head. Your body is revealed to him in all its glory, and he can't help but let out a low groan as his mouth finds your breast once more. He kisses and nips at your sensitive nipple through the lace of your bra, fingers hooking into the material as if it's all that's holding him back from tearing it off and tasting you fully. His other hand slips underneath you, finding warmth and wetness between your legs as his fingers trace circles over your clit through your panties. "You feel so good," he growls against your skin before punctuating his words with a hard squeeze of your breast, causing your back to arch off the counter in pleasure.

Brandon's touch is rough and demanding, his body moving instinctively as he loses himself in the feel of you beneath his fingers. He growls low in his throat when you arch your back against him, needing more contact with your sensitive flesh. His hand slides lower between your legs, pushing aside your underwear to finally be skin-to-skin with you.

With a forceful thrust of his hips, he presses his erection against your dripping center through your panties, making you gasp and writhe on the counter. His fingers move faster now, teasing and pleasuring you until he feels your body tense and tremble beneath him. "Come for me," he rasps, kissing along your jaw as his fingers continue to work their magic. "Let it out." His free hand finds purchase on the counter beside you, gripping tightly as he leans in

Brandon watches as you arch your back off the counter, moaning loudly as you come apart beneath his touch. His fingers don't stop, continuing to bring you pleasure even after the worst of it has passed, determined not to let you come down from this high anytime soon. As he feels your body begin to relax once more, he lets out a groan and forces himself to step back, needing some distance between them before they end up in a heap on the kitchen floor.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he catches his breath, gaze fixed on where you're laid out beneath him. There's no doubt about it now: he wants you, and not just for tonight. The thought both terrifies and exhilarates him in equal measure. He tries to find the words to express what he's feeling but can only manage a hoarse, "That was... Fuck..." before