Beneath the Shadow of Sin – Chapter 1: The Breaking Point – by Aarav Anthem

# Beneath the Shadow of Sin – Chapter 1: The Breaking Point

On his eighteenth birthday, Ethan confronts his abusive father, Marcus, sparking a heated argument that escalates into a shocking, explicit encounter in the kitchen, marking the start of their twisted dynamic fueled by a dark family curse.

Ethan sat at the worn oak dining table, the bitter taste of resentment burning in his throat. He was eighteen today, but the milestone felt hollow. His father, Marcus, lounged across from him, a half-empty beer bottle dangling from his thick fingers. The man’s broad shoulders and chiseled jaw gave him the look of a retired athlete, but his smirk—sharp and cruel—betrayed the ugliness beneath. For years, Ethan had watched Marcus tear down his mother, Sarah, and his younger siblings, Liam and Emma. The man was a storm, leaving wreckage in his wake.

Tonight was no different. Sarah had spent hours preparing Ethan’s birthday dinner—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, all his favorites. Marcus took one bite, chewed slowly, and spat it out onto the plate. “Tastes like shit, Sarah,” he said, loud enough for the whole table to hear. “You trying to poison us or just too lazy to learn how to cook?”

Sarah’s face tightened, her hazel eyes dull with years of enduring his venom. She didn’t respond, just gathered her plate and signaled for Liam and Emma to follow. “We’re going to Grandma’s,” she said quietly, her voice steady but strained. The kids, used to these escapes, grabbed their jackets without protest. Ethan watched them leave, the front door clicking shut like a guillotine.

The silence in the kitchen was heavy, broken only by the clink of Marcus’s bottle against the table. Ethan’s hands clenched into fists under the table, his knuckles white. He’d had enough. Eighteen years of watching Marcus bully everyone, of feeling small under his father’s shadow, had built a pressure inside him that was ready to explode.

He met Marcus’s gaze, those piercing green eyes glinting with amusement. “Got something to say, kid?” Marcus asked, his voice low and mocking. He leaned back, stretching his muscular arms behind his head, his tight T-shirt straining against his chest. The man was forty, but his body was a testament to years of discipline—football in his youth, weights in the garage, and a swagger that never quit.

“You’re a piece of shit, Dad,” Ethan said, his voice trembling with rage. “You treat Mom like garbage, and you don’t give a damn about any of us.”

Marcus’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing. “Big talk for a boy who can’t even throw a decent punch. What’s the matter, Ethan? Still crying because you’re better at books than ball?”

Ethan’s face burned. He’d always been the quiet one, the reader, the thinker—not the son Marcus wanted. Liam was the athlete, the one Marcus bragged about at the bar. Ethan was just the disappointment who preferred sketching to sports. “Why do you have to be such an asshole?” he spat.

Marcus laughed, a deep, guttural sound that filled the room. “Because it’s fun, kid. Gets you all riled up, doesn’t it? You’re just like your mom—too soft, too easy to break.” He took a swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving Ethan’s. “She sticks around, though. You know why? Because I give her what she needs.” He winked, his meaning clear.

Ethan’s stomach twisted, a mix of disgust and something darker, something he didn’t want to name. He’d heard Marcus’s boasts before—crude comments about his prowess, about how Sarah stayed for the sex. It was vile, but Ethan couldn’t deny the way his father’s confidence, his raw physicality, stirred something in him. Marcus was built like a god, all hard lines and power, and Ethan hated how his body sometimes betrayed him, reacting to the man’s presence.

“You’re disgusting,” Ethan said, his voice shaking. “You think you’re some kind of stud, but you’re just a bully who gets off on making everyone miserable.”

Marcus leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table, muscles flexing under tanned skin. “You wanna talk about getting off, Ethan? Let’s not pretend. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Those sneaky glances when you think I’m not paying attention.” His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “You’re not as subtle as you think, kid.”

Ethan froze, his heart pounding. He wanted to deny it, to scream that Marcus was wrong, but the words caught in his throat. He’d spent years wrestling with his feelings—anger, hatred, and, buried deep, a shameful attraction he couldn’t explain. Marcus’s body, his dominance, had always been a presence in the house, impossible to ignore.

“What’s the matter?” Marcus taunted, standing up and walking to the fridge. He grabbed another beer, popped the cap, and leaned against the counter, his hips cocked. “Cat got your tongue? Or is it something else you want in that mouth?”

Ethan’s face flushed, his body betraying him as heat pooled in his gut. “You’re sick,” he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

Marcus chuckled, setting the beer down and peeling off his T-shirt in one fluid motion. The fabric hit the floor, revealing a torso carved from years of hard work—broad pecs, a slightly rounded belly, and a trail of dark hair leading down to his jeans. “Sick, huh? Then why’re you staring, Ethan?” He flexed his chest, the muscles bouncing once, twice, and Ethan’s breath hitched.

“Stop it,” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper. He stood, intending to leave, but his legs felt rooted to the spot.

Marcus stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Stop what? Giving you what you want?” He reached down, unbuckling his belt with a slow, deliberate motion. The sound of the zipper was deafening in the quiet kitchen. “You’re eighteen now. Old enough to admit it. You want this, don’t you?”

Ethan’s mind screamed to run, to fight, but his body didn’t listen. His eyes dropped to Marcus’s groin, where the denim parted to reveal bare skin—no underwear, just the thick root of his cock. Ethan’s mouth went dry, his own jeans tightening uncomfortably.

Marcus smirked, stepping closer until he was inches away. “Kneel,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. “You know you want to.”

Ethan’s knees buckled before he could stop himself, hitting the cold tile floor. Marcus loomed above him, his jeans sliding down to reveal a cock that was massive, heavy, and already hardening. Ethan’s heart raced, a mix of fear, shame, and undeniable desire.

“Touch it,” Marcus ordered, his voice low and husky. “Feel what your mom’s been getting all these years.”

Ethan’s hand trembled as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around the warm, pulsing flesh. It was heavy, thicker than he’d imagined, and Marcus groaned, the sound sending a shiver down Ethan’s spine. “Good boy,” Marcus murmured. “Now kiss it.”

Ethan hesitated, his mind reeling, but Marcus’s hand found the back of his head, guiding him forward. Ethan’s lips brushed the silky skin just beneath the head, and he inhaled the musky scent of his father. A bead of precum glistened at the tip, and Marcus’s voice was a low growl. “Taste it.”

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Beneath the Shadow of Sin – Chapter 2: The Morning After – by Aarav Anthem >>