Mickey’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird in a gilded cage of lace and satin. The schoolgirl skirt was shorter than anything she’d ever owned, the stockings a whisper against her thighs, the heels making her legs endless. She watched Leo’s easy smile freeze, then melt into something dark and hungry as his eyes traveled from her glossy lips down to the desperate arch of her back. Before he could speak, she closed the distance, the taste of her cherry gloss smearing against his mouth as her trembling fingers found the hard line of his cock through his jeans. The world narrowed to his shocked inhale, the heat of his body, and the wet ache between her own thighs that said this was already happening.

Leo didn’t push her away. His hands came up, not to stop her, but to settle on her waist. His thumbs pressed into the bare skin between her crop top and skirt. The contact was electric, a brand. He broke the kiss, just enough to breathe the word into the space between their mouths. “Mickey.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an acknowledgment. A door opening.

“I’ve wanted to show you,” she whispered, the words tumbling out in a breathy rush. Her fingers worked at the button of his jeans, clumsy with need. “For so long. I bought this… for you. I’m such a slut for you, Leo. A sissy slut. Look at me.”

He did look. His gaze was a physical weight, traveling over the lace-edged stockings, the way the pleated skirt flared over the curve of her ass, the deliberate, vulnerable arch of her spine. The flickering bulb carved the shadows deep under her cheekbones, across the hollow of her throat. She saw his throat work as he swallowed.

“Show me what?” His voice was low, the casual drawl gone, replaced by a tight, focused rasp.

Her hand slipped inside his jeans, past the waistband of his boxers. Her palm met the hot, hard length of him. She gasped at the feel of it, the smooth skin over rigid heat, the pulse she felt beating against her hand. Precum already slicked the tip. “This,” she breathed. “I want this. I need you to… to use me. Teach me.”

Leo’s eyes closed for a second, a long blink. When they opened, the dark hunger in them was absolute. His hands slid from her waist to her ass, gripping her through the thin skirt, pulling her flush against him. The hard ridge of his cock pressed into her lower stomach. “Use you how, baby?”

The pet name, so casually cruel and perfect, made her whimper. “Any way you want. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.” She was stroking him now, a slow, tentative pump of her fist, learning his shape, his thickness. Her other hand clutched at his shoulder, the muscle there hard under his t-shirt.

He bent his head, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below her ear. His breath was hot. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, even as she pressed her hips forward, seeking friction. The lace of her panties was soaked, a damp, embarrassing truth against her skin. “And I’m so fucking horny for you. I can’t think straight.”

“Then don’t think.” He captured her mouth again, this kiss deeper, consuming. It wasn’t gentle. It was a claiming. His tongue swept against hers, tasting the cherry gloss and the sharp fear underneath. His hands moved, one tangling in her chestnut hair, tilting her head back, the other sliding down to cup her through her skirt, his palm pressing right against the aching heart of her.

Mickey cried out into his mouth, a broken, needy sound. Her knees buckled, but he held her up, the strength in his arms effortless. She ground herself against his hand, the pressure both too much and not enough. The room smelled of his cologne and her perfume and the undeniable scent of her own arousal.

He walked her backward until her calves hit the edge of his unmade bed. “Sit,” he commanded, his voice rough.

She sank down, the mattress dipping under her. The pleated skirt rode up high on her thighs. She watched, heart in her throat, as he stood over her. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and boxers and pushed them down in one motion. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed and perfect, curving slightly upward against his stomach.

Mickey’s mouth watered. She leaned forward, drawn like a magnet, but he stopped her with a hand in her hair, not pulling, just holding. “Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes raking over her kneeling form. “My cousin. Dressed like a fucking wet dream.”

“Yours,” she repeated, the word a prayer. She nuzzled into his hand, then turned her head, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his inner thigh. The skin was hot, the muscle taut. She tasted salt and clean sweat.

He let her. His fingers tightened slightly in her hair, guiding, not forcing. She took the hint, leaning in further, her glossy lips parting. Her tongue darted out, a shy, wet stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. She swirled it around the head, collecting the bitter-salty bead of precum there. The taste of him, musky and male, flooded her senses.

“Yeah,” he breathed, a low exhale that was almost a groan. “Just like that.”

Encouraged, she took him into her mouth, sinking down as far as she could. Her eyes watered at the stretch, the fullness. She felt the thick vein on the underside pulse against her tongue. One of her hands came up to cradle his balls, heavy and tight, while the other wrapped around the base of him, her painted nails a stark contrast against his skin. She began to move, a slow, deep rhythm, her head bobbing in the shadowy light.

Leo watched her, his chest rising and falling faster now. His other hand came down to stroke her hair, her cheek. “Fuck, Mickey. You look so good like this. Sucking your cousin’s cock in your little schoolgirl outfit.”

The filthy words, the acknowledgment of the taboo, sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her. She moaned around him, the vibration making his hips jerk forward. She took him deeper, her throat relaxing, accepting him. This was it. This was what she’d dreamed of, fantasized about in her own bed, touching herself to the thought of his hands, his mouth, his cock. The reality was hotter, harder, more overwhelming. She was drowning in it, and she never wanted to come up for air.