Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45194 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45194 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
It's easier that way.
I'm not all evil. She will walk unsteadily for a couple of days after this, but I'll give her a final present to remember me by.
Sliding one hand down past her hip, I follow her smooth skin into the valley between her thighs, where I find her dripping cunt. Its wetness is my one sign of redemption.
She might act all scared and surprised, but her body tells the truth. She fucking loves it.
When the tip of my finger brushes over her enlarged clit, she moans, a harsh sound in the back of her throat. I'm not the only one here becoming primal.
I strum it with my fingertip, fast and hard, just like my fucking. She shakes, her breathing labored, and suddenly, with a scream, she goes taut. Her every muscle strains as she clenches around me.
Jesus fucking Christ. It's about the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen.
There's no holding back from that. As she explodes, my balls tighten, and the tingling that signals imminent release becomes too much for me to hold back. With a bellow, I drive all the way in and hold myself there. I come so hard you'd think I was turning myself inside out.
Maybe it's the circumstances, and maybe it's just her, but I can't remember the last time I came so hard.
Resting her weight on her face and forearms, she's gasping for breath, drawing in the air with rasping little sobs. Did I go too hard on her? What did she fucking expect for how much we paid for her?
Besides, she came like a goddamn freight train. She liked it well enough. Fuck, she's quivering hard enough to be milking my cock still. I keep my grip on her hips so she can't pull off me until I'm ready, but she struggles like it's all suddenly too much.
"You stay right where you are," I growl because I'm the one in control here. "You don't get to go anywhere until I say so."
With a harsh gasp, she stiffens. You'd think I'd just hit her or something. What the fuck?
5
HONOR
WHAT WAS LOST IS FOUND
"Kylian?"
I think it's just my mind that whispers the name that has been straining at my consciousness, but when the man behind me freezes, I know my mouth uttered the same.
It's him. My stepbrother. A boy from my past who's lived only in my memories since my mom rushed us away from Montgomery House in the middle of the night and never looked back.
A man repeating the phrase that his violent father used over and over when he wanted to make sure that no one dared defy his wishes or break from his control. A man with the same walk, the same piercing gaze, the same lips that linger between smiling and sneering as his cruel father.
So many similarities that I didn't truly see until now.
When I glance over my shoulders, Kylian's face is slack, and I'm unsure if it's from release or shock. Did he hear me?
He pulls out, leaving an emptiness in his wake that is more than just physical. "How do you know my name?" he hisses, tucking himself away with so much control that there's no evidence of the release he just had or the exertion it took to get there. How is that possible when my body feels wrung out with pleasure and nervous exhaustion?
I want to tell him it's not just his name that I know. The man who used my mouth and the man who took my virginity are my stepbrothers too. Lyle and Nate. Can it really be them?
Of course, it is.
Now that I see it, I don't know how I didn't realize it before.
But through my anxiousness, the pain, and the pleasure, it’s taken me too long to find the truth.
I sold myself to three men who once upon a time were my stepbrothers, but what they've just taken from me, no brother should take from a sister.
And I don't know what to do. Our shared history barrels through my mind. The days we spent running through the grounds playing hide and seek, the nights we'd spent crashing out in the family room watching kid's shows on the big TV. Kylian and his brothers were my friends and playmates. For a time, they became the only siblings I ever had.
Until I had to leave with mom.
I missed them so much during the first few months that my pillow was always wet before falling asleep. Even though I was young, I knew what was happening in the house. Not only to my mom but to the boys too. I knew that without mom there, the violence and anger their father rained down on them would only get worse.
Kylian, in particular, suffered at the hands of his father. Maybe because he was the eldest, or maybe because he was the one who continued to hold his head up and meet the enraged Dick Aston, even when it was the thing that escalated the anger.