I Became the Younger Brother of the Villainess

Once again, she gushed violently, her body wracked with another orgasm.

Of course, this was only possible because I had spent so much time teasing her, heating her up until she was on the edge. At this rate, I wondered if I might eventually make her climax just by massaging her lower abdomen.

Amused by the indecent thought, I continued pressing her belly rhythmically, my movements slow and deliberate.

“Hnnngh! Stop… stop…! I’m going to… burst!”

Daisy, who had been lost in the overwhelming pleasure of her intense climax, finally regained enough composure to protest.

It seemed she was embarrassed that pressing her lower abdomen was making her gush so much.

Her eyes, which had rolled back slightly during her orgasm, began to refocus. She recovered quickly.

If I left her alone now, she’d probably recover on her own. And after all, this was just supposed to be a brief indulgence before my sister arrived. I figured it might be time to wrap things up.

“Phew…”

Looking at her disheveled, ripped maid’s uniform, her lewdly exposed body still trembling in the afterglow of her climax, I knew I couldn’t stop just yet.

Her pussy, flushed and twitching, still seemed to crave more.

How could I possibly resist?

“W-wait, Master… hnngh… please, no…!”

Just a little more.

Meanwhile…

Leticia Chepes stood frozen in front of her beloved brother’s door, straining to make sense of the sounds coming from inside.

Faint moans, high-pitched and breathless, echoed from beyond the door.

No, faint wasn’t quite the word. It was more accurate to say she wanted them to be faint—wished desperately to block them out. In truth, the sounds were all too vivid.

“Hngh! Ah… Master, ahhh… it feels so good…”

The voice beyond the door was unmistakably that of a woman she had spoken to just hours earlier. And her partner, Leticia was certain, was none other than her younger brother.

Her chest tightened painfully.

Unsure of what to do, she stood rooted to the spot, unable to move forward or turn away, simply listening to the moans filtering through the door.

She felt confused, torn. Deep down, she knew this was wrong. It wasn’t right for her brother to be involved in something like this. She thought she should let go, that she should give up.

After all, having these feelings for her brother was unnatural. No, it wasn’t even love—not something noble like that.

“I’m just… a perverted woman…” she muttered to herself.

She was nothing more than a degenerate, using thoughts of her brother to satisfy herself. A nympho in heat, unworthy of loving her brother.

And yet, even as these thoughts ran through her mind, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She lingered, hesitating, torn between shame and desire.

Leticia Chepes loved her brother.

She had fallen in love with him.

Even if she couldn’t admit it to herself—even if she refused to acknowledge it—the truth remained.

She was already in love with her younger brother.

Deep down, she knew it, even if she refused to acknowledge it. That was why she couldn’t bring herself to walk away, why she stood frozen, unable to move, like a statue rooted in place.

“….”

The sounds beyond the door grew louder, more intense. It was almost animalistic—a raw, primal symphony of desire.

Could it really feel that good? Of course, it could. It was her beloved brother, after all. Leticia knew better than anyone how loving and gentle he could be.

Thump, thump.

Her fingertips trembled. She knew she shouldn’t, but despite herself, her hand reached out.

Creak.

The door, which should have opened silently, seemed to groan in protest. The sound startled her, and she flinched, but her hand continued to move, slowly pushing the door ajar. Just enough to peek inside.

Through the narrow crack, Leticia peered into the room.

And there, she saw—

“Hngh… ahhh… hnngh…! Ahh… ohh… hahhh…! Hnn… ugh… ahhh!”

Daisy, sprawled on the bed, her body convulsing as vulgar, desperate moans spilled from her lips. And her brother—teasing her, tormenting her in ways that sent waves of shame and jealousy crashing over Leticia.

The bed was a mess, the sheets tangled and chaotic. The canopy obscured most of the details, but the scene was clear enough. Too clear.

Something inside Leticia shattered.

A sharp pain pierced her chest, a pain she had never known before.

It hurt.

It hurt so much that she bit down on her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. The metallic tang filled her mouth, but even that couldn’t dull the ache in her heart.

And yet—

The pain was unbearable, and she wanted to forget. She wanted to let go. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t walk away, couldn’t tear herself from the scene unfolding before her.

The anguish was suffocating, and in her desperation to escape it, she felt a strange pull in her lower abdomen.

“Hngh…?”

She knew what it was.

The same feeling she’d had when her brother had hugged her tightly, when he’d gently stroked her hair. But this was stronger, more shameful.

In an instant, she felt the dampness spreading between her thighs. Her legs trembled, sticky warmth seeping down her skin.

Self-loathing surged within her. What kind of sister becomes aroused by watching her brother?

And yet—her hand moved on its own.

Through the crack in the door, she continued to watch the depraved act unfolding inside. Her other hand slid beneath the hem of her skirt, her trembling fingers finding their way to the source of her shame.

Her fingertips brushed against her wet folds, and even the faintest touch sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her body.

“Hnghh!”

She gasped softly, her voice caught in her throat. Her body had become shamelessly sensitive, her arousal uncontrollable. And it was all because of him.

She couldn’t live without him anymore. Even when she tried to satisfy herself alone, her thoughts always returned to him. No toy, no act, could compare; they only left her feeling empty and raw.

She needed him.

Even just the thought of his touch, his hand on her skin, made her tremble. If he touched her now—just once—she knew she’d cry out more lewdly, more desperately, than Daisy ever could.

The realization filled her with sorrow.

And yet, her hand didn’t stop.