Cousin Incest: Tropical Forbidden Escape 🔥

Echoes of Betrayal: A Tropical Escape

The rain hammered down on the windshield like a thousand tiny fists, blurring the neon lights of Charleston’s bustling streets as Alex gripped the steering wheel tighter. His knuckles were white, veins bulging under the skin, while the tuxedo shirt clung to his broad chest, soaked through from the dash across the parking lot. The seaside chapel of Our Lady of the Waves faded in the rearview mirror, a mocking silhouette against the stormy sky. Sophia’s text burned in his mind, those cold words slicing deeper than any knife: I can’t do this. Ryan’s the one I’ve always wanted. Her cousin. Of all the twisted bullshit.

Alex slammed his palm against the dash, the truck’s horn blaring into the night. He was 28, built like a wall from years hauling hoses and climbing ladders as a firefighter for the Charleston department, and now he felt like a gutted fish flopping on the dock. Three years with Sophia, all those late-night shifts where he’d come home smelling of smoke just to hold her, respecting her “boundaries” because her family was all about that old-school Catholic virtue. No sex before marriage, her father Victor had drilled into him over backyard barbecues. And Alex, the idiot, had bought it hook, line, and sinker.

He swerved into the driveway of his waterfront condo, the tires screeching on wet gravel. The place was supposed to be their starter home after the wedding, minimalist and modern with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. Now it loomed empty, a tomb for his shattered dreams. Kicking the door open, he stormed inside, the scent of salt air mixing with the faint tang of his own sweat. He ripped off the cummerbund, hurling it across the room where it landed like a defeated snake on the leather couch.

Beer. He needed a beer. The fridge hummed open, cold glass pressing against his lips as he chugged, the bitter hops sliding down his throat like liquid fire. But it did nothing to quench the rage boiling in his gut. Left at the altar for her goddamn cousin. The humiliation clawed at him, raw and unrelenting.

Chapter 1: Storm’s Fury

A pounding at the door jolted him from his stupor, the bottle slipping from his fingers to shatter on the tile floor. Glass shards scattered like his life, crunching under his boots as he yanked the door open, ready to unleash hell on whoever dared interrupt his misery.

It wasn’t his mother Laura with her tear-streaked face and Bible quotes, or his dad Robert barking orders like he was still on the force. It was Mia. His cousin Mia Rossi, who’d jetted in from New York for the wedding, her olive skin glowing under the porch light, dark curls frizzing in the humidity. She was 26, curvaceous in a way that turned heads—full hips swaying in her emerald bridesmaid dress, the fabric hugging her ample breasts like a second skin. Adopted from Italy as a baby by his aunt and uncle, she’d always been the wild one in the family, the artist with paint-stained fingers and a laugh that could light up a blackout.

“Alex,” she said, her voice soft but steady, eyes like polished chestnuts locking onto his. Rain dripped from her umbrella, pooling at her feet. No pity there, just that fierce concern that made his chest tighten.

He stepped aside wordlessly, the fight draining out like air from a punctured lung. Mia slipped in, shaking off the wet, her perfume—a spicy mix of jasmine and vanilla—cutting through the stale beer smell. She kicked off her heels, bare feet padding across the cool floor, and draped her coat over a chair. The condo felt smaller with her in it, her presence a warm counterpoint to the storm raging outside.

“They’re still tearing into each other back there,” she said, leaning against the kitchen island, her gaze tracing the mess of glass and foam. “Your folks, Sophia’s dad—it’s a shitshow. But you… you look like hell, cuz.”

Alex snorted, grabbing another beer from the fridge, the door slamming shut with a thud. “Hell’s too good for this. She texted me, Mia. A fucking text. While I’m standing there like a chump in front of God and everybody.” His voice cracked, the words tumbling out jagged. He paced, muscles rippling under the half-unbuttoned shirt, the scent of his cologne mingling with the sharp ozone from the rain.

Mia watched him, her full lips pressing into a line. She’d always been the one he could talk to, the cousin who’d sneak him smokes during family reunions and listen to his gripes about failed dates. “You didn’t deserve that. None of it. Sophia’s the one who’s twisted, running off with Ryan like some soap opera reject.”

He whirled on her, eyes blazing. “Twisted? It’s fucking betrayal! I waited, Mia. Played the saint because her family wanted pure, because my mom hammered it into me—no fornicating, no rushing. And for what? So she could pine for her own blood?” He laughed, bitter and broken, slamming the bottle down. Foam bubbled over his fingers, sticky and warm.

The dam broke then. Alex slid down the cabinets, ass hitting the floor, head in hands as sobs wracked his frame. The tough firefighter, the guy who ran into burning buildings, reduced to this. Mia didn’t hesitate; she dropped beside him, her dress hiking up her thighs, soft curves pressing against his side as she pulled him into her embrace. Her arms were strong, scented skin brushing his cheek, heartbeat thumping steady against his ear.

“Let it out,” she whispered, fingers threading through his short, dark hair, nails grazing his scalp in soothing circles. The touch sent unexpected sparks down his spine, but grief overrode everything. He cried until his throat burned, until the storm outside softened to a drizzle.

When he finally lifted his head, her face was inches away, those dark eyes searching his. “It’s not just today,” he rasped, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “The trip… we were leaving tomorrow for the Bahamas. Luxury resort on Paradise Island, all-inclusive, private villa. Thousands down the drain.”

Mia’s brow furrowed, then smoothed as an idea sparked. She pulled back slightly, her cleavage rising with a deep breath. “Don’t cancel it.”

“What? Mia, it’s a honeymoon suite. For couples.”

“Screw that. It’s a vacation now. And I’ll go with you.” Her words hung in the air, bold and unyielding. “You need this, Alex. Get away from the whispers, the pity stares. I’m not letting you waste it alone.”

He stared, the absurdity hitting him like a wave. But in her eyes, he saw escape. “You serious?”

“Dead serious. Call the airline. Tell ’em Sophia bailed. We’ll make it work.” She stood, offering a hand, her grip firm as she hauled him up. Their bodies brushed—her softness against his hardness—and for a split second, something electric hummed between them.

Alex exhaled, nodding. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

Jump to Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Tangled Ties

The family dinner at The Harbor Grill was a farce, the private booth overlooking the marina feeling more like an interrogation room than a celebration. Empty seats gaped like missing teeth around the polished oak table, plates of seared scallops and crab cakes going cold under the dim chandelier light. Alex sat rigid, fork stabbing at his food, the salty tang of seafood turning bitter on his tongue. His parents, Laura and Robert, flanked him, their faces etched with worry—Laura’s silver-streaked hair pulled tight, Robert’s broad shoulders slumped under his button-down.

Across from them, Mia’s folks, Elena and Gino Rossi, picked at their salads, the air thick with unspoken accusations. The clink of silverware was the only sound until Laura broke it, her voice trembling. “Alex, please. Talk to me. What she did… it’s unforgivable.”

He didn’t look up, jaw clenched. “It’s over, Mom. Done.” The words tasted like ash, the memory of Sophia’s betrayal a fresh wound.

Robert cleared his throat, his cop instincts kicking in even in retirement. “Son, we get it. But running off to the islands with Mia? That’s… unconventional.”

Mia, seated beside Alex, her knee brushing his under the table—a accidental spark that made his pulse jump—leaned forward. “Unconventional? It’s practical. Those tickets aren’t refundable, and Alex needs a break from this circus.” Her New York accent sharpened the words, cutting through the tension like a knife through butter.

Elena shot her a look, dark eyes narrowing. “Mia, this isn’t some girls’ trip. It’s his honeymoon.”

“Was,” Mia corrected, her hand landing possessively on Alex’s arm, fingers warm through his sleeve. The touch lingered, sending heat pooling low in his belly. “Now it’s just sun, sand, and forgetting that backstabbing witch.”

Alex met her gaze, gratitude mixing with something darker, hungrier. The dinner dragged on, arguments flaring like distant thunder—Laura defending her “values,” Gino muttering about family honor—but Alex tuned it out, focused on the curve of Mia’s neck, the way her laughter bubbled up when she teased him about packing speedos.

Back at the condo later, the door barely shut before Alex pinned her against the wall, not in anger, but desperation. “You saved my ass today,” he growled, breath hot against her ear.

Mia’s hands slid up his chest, nails digging in. “Damn right. Now shut up and kiss me, cuz. We’ve got a plane to catch.” Her lips crashed into his, soft and demanding, tasting of wine and forbidden promise. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling in a wet, urgent dance, her body arching into his hardness. But he pulled back, panting. “We can’t… not yet.”

She smirked, eyes gleaming. “Oh, we will. Bahamas bound, baby.” 🔥

Jump to Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Flight into Temptation

The airport buzzed with holiday chaos, but Alex and Mia moved through it like a unit, her arm looped through his as they boarded the first-class flight to Nassau. The seats reclined into beds, champagne flutes clinking softly in the dim cabin light. Alex stared out the window as the plane lifted off, Charleston shrinking below, the harbor glittering like scattered diamonds.

Mia sipped her mimosa, the orange juice tart on her tongue, her sundress riding up her thighs—bronze skin smooth and inviting. “Nervous?” she asked, her foot nudging his under the tray table.

“About the trip? Or us?” He glanced at her, the cabin’s hum vibrating through them, the scent of her lotion—coconut and spice—teasing his senses.

She leaned in, breath warm on his neck. “Both. But mostly about what happens when we land. That villa… private beach, infinity pool. No one around to judge.” Her fingers traced his thigh, light as a feather, igniting a fire in his veins.

Alex swallowed hard, his cock twitching in his jeans. “Mia, we’re family. This is fucked up.” But his hand covered hers, pressing it firmer against him.

“Fucked up feels good sometimes,” she whispered, her lips brushing his earlobe, sending shivers down his spine. The flight stretched, tension building like a storm. Turbulence jolted them, her body falling against his, breasts pressing soft and full. He groaned, capturing her mouth in a stolen kiss, hands roaming her curves, tasting the sweetness of her lip gloss mixed with champagne.

They broke apart as the captain announced descent, both flushed, breathing ragged. “To be continued,” she purred, her hand squeezing his bulge teasingly.

The Nassau airport hit them with humid air thick as syrup, the salty breeze carrying hints of rum and grilled fish from nearby stalls. A chauffeured car whisked them to the resort, palm trees whipping by, the ocean a turquoise tease on the horizon.

Chapter 4: Waves of Surrender

Arrival Heat

The Paradise Palms Resort sprawled like a lover’s embrace—white sands curving into infinity, villas perched on stilts over the water. Their suite was a dream: king bed draped in mosquito netting, open-air balcony where waves lapped rhythmically below. Alex dropped the bags, the wicker floor creaking under his weight, as Mia spun, laughing, her dress fluttering.

“This is insane,” she said, kicking off her sandals, toes digging into the cool tiles. The air smelled of frangipani and sea salt, sunlight streaming through sheer curtains, warming their skin.

Alex watched her, hunger gnawing at him. “You sure about this? Us?”

She stepped close, hands on his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. “I’ve wanted you since we were kids, Alex. Watching you grow into this… beast.” Her eyes raked over him, lingering on the bulge straining his shorts.

He flipped her beneath him, pinning her wrists, the mattress dipping soft. “Then no holding back.” His mouth claimed hers, rough and possessive, teeth nipping her lower lip until she moaned, the sound vibrating through him like thunder. Hands tore at clothes—her dress pooling on the floor, revealing lace panties soaked with arousal, his shirt ripped open to expose chiseled abs scarred from old burns.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he growled, palming her heavy tits, thumbs circling stiff nipples, dark and pebbled. She arched, gasping, the taste of her skin salty-sweet as he sucked one peak into his mouth, tongue lashing relentlessly.

Beach Inferno

They barely made it to the private beach before clothes were shed again. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in fiery oranges, waves crashing with a rhythmic roar that drowned their cries. Mia dropped to her knees in the sand, grains warm and gritty against her skin, as she freed his thick cock—veined and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“God, I’ve dreamed of this,” she murmured, voice husky, before swirling her tongue around the head, tasting his salty essence. Alex groaned, fingers tangling in her curls, hips bucking as she took him deep, throat relaxing to swallow every inch. Gagging sounds mixed with the surf, her saliva dripping down his shaft, slick and messy.

“Suck it harder, Mia. Yeah, like that—fuck, your mouth’s a goddamn vice.” He thrust, fucking her face with raw need, balls slapping her chin until she pulled back, gasping, strings of spit connecting them.

She stood, shoving him down onto a beach towel, straddling his hips. “My turn to ride.” Guiding his cock to her dripping pussy—shaved smooth, lips swollen and pink—she sank down, inch by inch, the stretch burning deliciously. “Oh shit, you’re huge… filling me up so good.”

Alex gripped her ass, round and firm, guiding her bounces. The slap of skin on skin echoed, her juices coating him, the scent of sex heavy in the humid air. She rode him wild, tits bouncing, nails raking his chest, drawing thin lines of blood that stung like ecstasy.

“Harder, cuz—pound my cunt!” she demanded, voice breaking on a scream as orgasm hit, walls clenching around him like a fist. He flipped her, slamming deep, the sand shifting beneath them, until he exploded, hot cum flooding her, spilling out as he collapsed, both slick with sweat and sea spray. 💋

Jump to Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Depths of Forbidden Bliss

Poolside Reckoning

Night fell like a velvet curtain, the infinity pool glowing under tiki torches, water lapping gently against mosaic tiles. Alex and Mia floated naked, bodies entwined, the chlorine tang mixing with the musk of their earlier romp. Stars wheeled overhead, the distant calypso music a sultry pulse.

“This… us… it’s wrong, but fuck, it feels right,” Alex admitted, his hand cupping her breast underwater, thumb teasing the nipple to a hard peak.

Mia turned in his arms, legs wrapping around his waist, her pussy grinding against his semi-hard cock. “Wrong’s overrated. I want more—everything.” Her mouth found his neck, sucking marks into the skin, teeth grazing until he hissed.

He lifted her onto the pool edge, water cascading off her curves like liquid silk. Spreading her thighs, he dove in, tongue lapping at her folds—tart and creamy, clit throbbing under his assault. “Taste so fucking good, Mia. Like sin on my tongue.” She bucked, fingers in his hair, moans rising sharp and desperate.

“Eat me, Alex—don’t stop! Yes, right there—oh god, your tongue’s magic!” Her thighs quivered, clamping his head as she came, squirting sweet nectar into his mouth, which he drank greedily, the flavor exploding on his taste buds.

Villa Vortex

Back in the villa, the air conditioner hummed cool against their fevered skin. Alex bound her wrists with silk scarves from the drawer—resort amenities turned kinky—tying her to the bedposts. She writhed, pussy glistening, begging. “Fuck me raw, Alex. No mercy.”

He teased her first, cockhead rubbing her entrance, dipping in shallow thrusts that had her cursing. “Please—deeper! Stretch my tight hole!” Finally, he plunged, balls-deep, the bed creaking under brutal rhythm. Sweat slicked their bodies, the slap of flesh obscene, her tits jiggling with each pounding thrust.

“You’re mine now, cuz— this pussy’s gripping me like it never wants to let go.” He pinched her clit, rolling it hard, while his other hand smacked her ass, leaving red handprints that burned hot.

Mia screamed, multiple orgasms ripping through her, body convulsing. “Cum inside me—fill your cousin’s womb!” Alex roared, pumping thick ropes of seed deep, overflowing, the wet squelch as he pulled out obscene.

They collapsed, tangled and spent, breaths syncing with the ocean’s whisper. But dawn brought more—a new scene on the balcony, her bent over the railing, his cock in her ass, lubed with coconut oil, the tight ring yielding to his girth. “So full—rip me apart!” she gasped, the pain-pleasure blurring as he reamed her, the sea breeze cooling their frenzy.

Another addition: a midnight snorkel turned erotic, masks fogging as they explored underwater caves, hands wandering to finger-fuck in the current, bubbles rising with their gasps.

Climax Cascade

By day five, boundaries dissolved. In the villa’s outdoor shower, steam rising, Alex took her against the tiled wall, water pounding like rain, her legs hooked over his arms as he drilled relentlessly. “Your cock’s ruining me—addicted to this taboo dick!” Soap suds slid down her curves, his fingers in her mouth, then ass, double-penetrating until she shattered.

Nights blurred into orgiastic haze: toys from a discreet shop—vibrators buzzing against her g-spot, him watching her squirt across the sheets, the metallic tang of her release filling the room. Crude whispers fueled it: “Breed me, Alex—make me your dirty secret.” He obliged, cumming on her face, tits, painting her like a canvas of lust.

The final night, under a canopy of stars on the beach, they fucked slow and deep, bodies merging in primal rhythm. Waves kissed their feet, sand grinding into skin, as climaxes built to a shattering peak. “I love you,” he murmured, not as family, but more.

“Always have,” she replied, sealing it with a kiss tasting of salt, cum, and forever.

As the sun rose on their last day, the betrayal faded, replaced by this fierce, unbreakable bond. Paradise wasn’t just the island—it was them, reborn in fire and flesh.

Back to Chapter 2