At this point, he was speechless. My eyes drifted to the phone he had forgotten to hide on the bed. The screen was still lit up, displaying a picture of me in my bikini—one of the shots he’d taken at the beach.
"Ohh! I see," I teased. "You're masturbating to my pictures."
He snatched the phone up and jammed the power button, the screen going black. "It's not what you think. I can explain."
"You don't need to explain anything," I said, my voice dripping with confidence. "I was watching you through the keyhole. The way you were stroking your huge dick... hearing the things you wanted to do to me... it drove me crazy. I loved every second of it."
"This is a mistake," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't know what came over me. It won't happen again."
"You're right, it won't happen again," I agreed, taking a step closer. "Because instead of masturbating, we're going to be fucking our brains out. Don't worry, I won't tell my dad. I won't tell anyone. It’ll be our little secret."
"Bella, you need to leave," he pleaded, though his voice lacked conviction. "Let's just end this here and pretend it never happened."
"How can I pretend when I've seen what I want?" I countered. "You're hard for me, and I'm dripping wet for you. You want me, and I want you. That's all that matters."
"Your dad trusts me," he said, shaking his head. "He is my best friend. I can't betray him. I watched you grow up. I’ve always thought of you as a daughter."
"But you didn't look at me like a daughter when you saw me in the living room," I shot back. "You practically stripped me naked with your eyes. And just now, I saw you masturbating and confessing exactly how badly you want to fuck me. Well, here I am."
"Listen to me, Bella," he groaned, his voice thick with agony and raw, unfiltered lust. "I admit I haven't been thinking straight since the moment you walked in. I have jerked off thinking about you. You’ve grown into something I can't resist. But as much as I want you for myself, I can't betray your father. I can't ruin his only daughter."
He paused, clearly fighting a war within himself, clinging to a morality that was slipping through his fingers. "He told me to take good care of you. How can I do this to him? I'm meant to protect you."
I looked down. He was still hard. The tent in his pajamas hadn't softened one bit.
"And what if this is what will keep me happy while I stay with you?" I asked, moving closer. I dropped my voice to a low, husky tone that I knew would vibrate right through him. "What if this is the only thing that will put a smile on my face? Don't you want to fulfill my wishes, Uncle Frank? Isn't that what you're good at?"
"This is different. It's morally wrong," he whispered, but his eyes were darting feverishly between my face and my chest. He was losing, and we both knew it. The heavy rise and fall of his chest told me he was barely holding on.
"Forget about my dad," I said firmly. "I'm an adult. I'm not a kid anymore, and I'm certainly not a virgin. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I want you. I want a taste of you. I want you to fuck me until one of us passes out."
I didn't hold back. I needed him to know exactly how much I craved him, to feel the desperation in my words.
"Bella!" He growled my name like a warning, his breath hitching as I reached out.
"Or are you not man enough?" I taunted, closing the remaining space between us until our bodies were almost touching. I could feel the heat radiating off him. I ran my hand slowly over his chest, feeling the hard muscle and the frantic thudding of his heart beneath. "Are you scared you can't handle me? Is the big, powerful businessman terrified of a nineteen-year-old girl?"
That snapped something inside him.
He grabbed my neck, his fingers firm but not painful, and tilted my head back so I was forced to look up at him. The guilt in his eyes was gone, replaced by a burning, predatory fire.
I smiled. I had woken the beast. The gentle best friend was gone, and I loved this new version. This was exactly what I had been waiting to see.
"You think you can handle me, huh?" he hissed, his face inches from mine. His grip on my neck tightened slightly, sending a thrill of fear and excitement through me. "Listen to me. I don't make girls moan—I make them scream. I make them cry. They don't tell me to go harder; they beg me to slow down. What you saw between my legs isn't just a dick; it's a weapon. It will stretch you, tear you apart, and rearrange your insides. You are too small to handle it."
"Why don't you show me?" I challenged him further, my heart hammering so loud I could hear it in my ears. I let my tongue dart out to wet my lower lip, watching his gaze follow the movement with hunger. "Stop talking and show me what you're capable of. I bet you can't make me scream your name."
"You're challenging me?" he growled, a dangerous edge to his voice. "You want me to show you what I can do?"
"Actions speak louder than words," I whispered, daring him. "Stop talking and show me."