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Daeron was not proud of himself for dreaming of you. He definitely was not proud of himself for staring at your ass when you were wearing tight jeans, much less for jerking off every night thinking about you.
And worst of all, Daeron definitely was not proud of himself for wanting to fuck you, his own sister. He knew it was wrong, he knew that better than anyone. And he also knew that you, in all your typical innocence and naiveté, would feel hurt if you found out that your gentle older brother was fantasizing about naughty things whenever he was around you.
That was why — although manipulation was not in his nature — Daeron was trying so hard to find a way to satisfy his desires without hurting your feelings or making you change the way you saw him, even if it meant having to lie. After all, he never wanted you to stop seeing him as your favorite person in the whole world.
You trusted Daeron more than anyone else, even more than your twin brother. Unlike Aemon, Daeron was much funnier. He always made you laugh, even when he was drunk at some party with his friends, sending you messages with a lot of typos and telling you that he would be home late.
And you also trusted him to protect you from Aerion's freaky behavior. You spent more time in his bedroom than in your own, even after Aerion was "forced" by Maekar to attend a college in another state. You had no reason to keep going to Daeron's bed, but you continued doing it, unaware of how harder it made things for him, who could barely control his arousal when you snuggled into his arms to sleep.
As tempting as it was, he still did not consider touching you while you slept. Daeron could be a real bastard sometimes, but he would not cross that line with any woman, much less his sweet little sister. And that was exactly why he needed to try to convince you to help him in one way or another.
On a particular night, when he returned slightly drunk from a friend's party, you were already lying in his bed, awake and waiting for him as usual. At that moment, he knew he could not resist any longer. Then, however wrong and disgusting he knew it all was, Daeron lied about the true nature of his desires. By omitting details and telling you nonsensical justifications, he managed to convince you to let him taste you.
"It'll just be through your panties, okay, baby? You don't need to take them off," he assured you, sitting beside you on the bed, bracing himself for any possible signs of aversion coming from you...
To your brother's surprise and luck, you fell right into his lie. Part of him felt worried about such exaggerated naiveté, but he was too horny — and drunk — to waste time talking to you about that. Instead, he chose to enjoy the moment before the effects of the alcohol wore off and the guilt became heavier than the desire he felt every time he dreamed of you.
That was how you ended up lying on his bed, nightgown pulled up to your stomach, legs wide open and a damp stain in the center of your lilac panties, caused by Daeron's saliva. The cotton fabric grew wetter and wetter each time his tongue traced patterns in your folds. Up and down, in circles… no matter the way he licked them, you were already trembling easily, he did not even need to make an effort.
“Shhhh, stop being so loud, or our father will wake up,” Daeron reprimanded you, though his tone was far from angry. All he wanted was to hear you surrender to him completely, without having to control your moans. In truth, all Daeron wanted was to pull those damn panties down your legs and get a privileged view of your bare pussy, so he could lick every inch, just like he did in his dreams. As much as he wanted — and needed — more, he knew he had to make do with what little he could get.
“B-brother…” you whimpered, one hand gripping his dirty blond hair tightly, unsure whether to pull him closer to your core or push him away, too overwhelmed by the newfound pleasure. “I d-don’t… I don’t think we should be doing this.”
The sudden hesitation made him stop, just for a pause of a few seconds before returning his attention to what he was doing, now not with his tongue but with his thumb, rubbing it in slow circles. “Bullshit! There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing, as long as I don’t take your panties off,” his words did not sound convincing to himself, a pathetic excuse any other girl would have easily seen through.
But you trusted your older brother more than you trusted anyone else, and if he was assuring you that none of that was wrong, then maybe he was right.
Despite noticing the still obvious tension in your hand — which had already released his hair and gripped the sheets instead — he sighed in relief as he noticed your resistance crumble little by little. Putting his mouth between your legs again, the tip of his tongue poked your bundle of nerves covered by the lilac fabric, making it increasingly swollen and sensitive, begging for a better stimulation without you even being aware of it.
As he alternated his ministrations between licks and rubs, he could not help but watch your face and then down to your body, delighted by your reactions. The sight was much better than in his dreams, although they seemed quite real nonetheless. Your legs were shaking around his head, and your hand had returned to the blonde strands of his hair, desperate to pull him closer again and get the release that was coming.
“Just like that, baby,” Daeron whispered, voice kind of groggy by the alcohol but also kind of muffled by your thighs that insisted on trapping him between them. “That’s it… Cum for me, sister.”
You did not need to be told twice. The moment Daeron sucked on your clit with more intensity than before, you came undone, a whimper that almost turned into a loud moan that would have been impossible not to hear if Daeron had not covered your mouth with his free hand.
During the next minute, his teasing licks did not stop, he wanted to savor every millisecond of the sweet taste he could feel through those panties. Against his true will, he pulled away when you whimpered a soft “please," not sounding so horny now, but with an exhaustion that it would be cruel of him to ignore.
“Holy shit, sister, you look like a mess,” those playful words caught your attention, and you curled up in bed, chest rising and falling as you struggled to normalize your panting breath. “Your pussy tastes so fucking good. Better than in my dreams.”
Although he was teasing, Daeron’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to explode. He had just eaten his own sister’s pussy out. His dear, sweet little sister, whom he had sworn to always protect. And for some reason, he did not feel guilty, disgusting or sinful… At least not as much as he should have.