Jack's chest heaved as he pulled away from Edith, his eyes searching the room as though looking for an escape from the reality that had just unfolded. But it was Edith's whisper that sent a chill down his spine, a whisper that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken truths. "Your mother is watching, Jack," she murmured, her voice a siren's call that seemed to resonate through his very soul. He turned his head, his gaze finding Elena's in the doorway, her hand still buried between her legs, a silent confession of her own arousal.
Their eyes met, and in that moment, Jack felt a connection that was as fierce as it was forbidden. Elena's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but she made no move to look away, her gaze steady and unwavering. There was a hunger in her eyes, a hunger that mirrored his own, and he knew that she had heard his desperate cries for Lily. The air grew thick with the scent of desire, the candles casting a flickering glow upon her face that seemed to illuminate the darkest corners of her soul.
With trembling hands, Jack approached Elena, her heart beating so fast he could almost hear it, a wild rabbit caught in the sights of a hunter's gun. Her eyes searched his, a silent plea for understanding, for reassurance that the love they had shared for so long could survive this dark turn. He knew that she was as torn as he was, that the love she felt for her children was a tapestry of light and dark, of maternal instinct and carnality. But he also knew that she could no longer deny the pull of the latter.
Leaning in, Jack whispered in Elena's ear, his hot breath a stark contrast to the coolness of the evening air that had seeped into the house. "You cummed quite a lot," he murmured, the words a strange mix of accusation and admiration. Her eyes widened, the pupils dilating with a mix of fear and arousal that sent a jolt of desire through him. He felt the tension in her body, the coiled spring of passion that was ready to unleash at the slightest touch. "Did you think of me?" he continued, his voice low and seductive, a serpent coiling around her heart.
Elena's cheeks grew hotter, the color spreading from her face to her neck, a crimson tide that seemed to drown her in shame and desire. She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I couldn't help it," she confessed, her eyes dropping to the floor. "The thought of you, with... with her," she said, her voice trailing off as she gestured to Edith. "It was..." she paused, searching for the right words, "overwhelming."
Jack's grin grew wider, a predatory glint in his eye. He reached out and touched her chin, tilting her face up so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "It's all right, mother," he purred, the words a velvet caress that sent shivers down her spine. "We all have our secrets, our desires that we dare not speak aloud." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "And now," he whispered, "we share something... special."
Elena felt a strange mix of terror and excitement as Jack's hand trailed down her body, his fingers tracing the line of her collarbone before dipping lower to cup her breast. Her nipple hardened under his touch, and she couldn't suppress the soft moan that escaped her lips. "Jack," she breathed, her voice a tremulous protest that was lost in the wind that had picked up outside, rustling the leaves of the willow tree.
Her eyes searched his, finding the same hunger that had been reflected in Edith's moments before. She knew that she could not deny him, not when the very fabric of their family was unraveling before her eyes. Yet, she found the strength to push his hand away, her voice a soft but firm command. "We can't," she whispered, her words a barely audible plea for sanity in a world that had gone mad.
Jack's eyes searched hers, the hunger in them unmistakable. "Don't you want to know, mother?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr that seemed to resonate through her very being. "Don't you want to experience the kind of pleasure that only a mother and son can share?" His hand moved lower, skimming over her stomach and coming to rest on the fabric of her skirt.
Elena's breath hitched in her throat, the very thought of it a betrayal to all she held dear. Yet, the heat of his touch was like a brand, searing through the layers of doubt and leaving only a desperate need in its wake. She knew she should pull away, that she should run from the darkness that was threatening to consume them all. But she was rooted to the spot, her body responding to his touch in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.