Family Secrets

Amara storms into the office. She stops short, sees the scene, waits. Raven ends the call in one word, her eyes already on her stepdaughter. The proof is in Amara’s hand—photos, clear as daylight, Raven’s mouth on another woman’s neck. Raven sits beside her. “Your father knows,” she says, voice low. “We made a deal. It’s friendship, kid. Nothing more. He keeps his little furry parties, his cage, whatever he’s tied up in. I look the other way. Everybody stays happy.” Amara’s throat burns. The words land harder than fists. Raven pulls her close, thumbs tracing slow circles on her back, and then the kiss lands—wet, deliberate, no warning. Hands slide under silk. Raven’s fingers find the swollen heat between Amara’s legs and circle until the girl is dripping down the leather couch, knees shaking. Raven drops, tongue plunging, sucking like she’s starving for it. The desk lamp spills over the open thighs, over the sounds—wet, greedy, loud. When Amara comes, it’s a choked, shivering scream. She hardly catches her breath before she’s face-first between Raven’s spread legs, licking the older woman like punishment and promise at once. Raven’s fist closes tight in the dark hair, hips jerking. Two bodies, slick and trembling, lock and break together until the release rips through both of them, loud enough to echo off the office glass.