Wet & Wicked: Forbidden Collection Of Lust

Twice As Dirty (V)

ELARA’S POV~

"I... I can't," I sobbed, looking away.

"Look at me," he growled, his hand gripping my chin, forcing my face back to his. "You're my sister. My little sister. And he hurt you."

He wasn't talking about the business. He wasn't talking about the company. He was talking about us. He sat down on the bed beside me. The mattress dipped. He was so close his thigh pressed against mine.

"You're sticky, Elara," he whispered, his eyes dropping to my neck, where Hugh’s c*m had dripped. "You're wearing him."

He reached out, his fingers hovering over the strap of my dress.

"Let me help you," Cole said, his voice trembling with a restraint that was about to snap. "Before I go back out there and kill him."

He leaned in. His forehead touched mine. Then we were breathing the same air.

"I'm your brother," he whispered, his eyes searching mine. "I'm supposed to protect you."

But his hand moved. His fingers brushed the damp skin of my shoulder.

"And I failed," he groaned, his control breaking. "I let him touch you. I let him mark you."

He leaned in closer. His lips were inches from my ear. "Let me fix it, Elara," he begged, his voice raw. "Let me make it right. Before I lose my mind."

"I... Cole..." I whimpered, my voice cracking like dry wood. "We can't. You're my brother. This is... it's sick. It's a sin."

"I know," he growled, his eyes squeezing shut, his forehead pressing harder against mine, the contact burning like a brand. "I know exactly who I am. I'm the son of the man who just sprayed his filth all over his little girl."

He pulled back just an inch. His eyes snapped open. It was dark, unhinged, and blown wide with a pupil-dark lust that made my stomach drop into my knees.

"And I'm the man," he hissed, his free hand coming up to grip my other shoulder, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise the bone, "who has to sit here and smell him on you. Do you have any idea how that feels, Elara? To smell my own father's c*m on my sister's skin? To know he got to mark you first?"

My breath hitched.

Cum. He said it. He acknowledged the sticky, cooling ropes of white that were drying on my chest, making the fabric of my dress stiff and clinging.

As if reading my mind, Cole shifted on the bed. The movement was deliberate, and rough, full of a violent impatience. He pressed his thigh harder between my legs.

I felt instantly, a long, rigid, terrifying length of heat pressing against my inner thigh, right up against the soaked, ruined gusset of my panties. It was clinging to the folds of my p***y.

He was hard. Rock hard.

"Cole," I sobbed, trying to squirm away, but his grip was iron. "Please. It's wrong. You're my big brother."

"I taught you how to live, Elara," he cut me off, his voice trembling with a raw, suppressed hunger that sounded like a wild animal growling in a cage. "And now he's trying to own you. He's trying to swallow you whole."

He leaned in, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear, his breath scorching hot and ragged against my neck, making the fine hairs stand up.

"Do you remember two summers ago?" he whispered, the memory making his voice drop to a dark, sinful caress that vibrated straight through my chest. "The lake house? The storm knocked out the power, and we were stuck in that tiny, suffocating cabin?"

My blood turned to ice water, then immediately boiled over.

The cabin.

I remembered. God, how could I not?

The thunder were rattling the windows that day and the oppressive darkness. The flashlight beam cut a jagged path through the gloom.

Cole had walked out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips that suddenly dropped to the floor.

He was naked.

I remembered the silhouette of him in the shadows, the broad, cut shoulders, the taper of his waist, and between his legs... the heavy, hanging weight of him.

Even soft, he was massive. I had stared, frozen in the doorway, a shameful, secret heat coiling tight and hot in my belly, my mouth going dry, before he cursed and frantically yanked on a pair of shorts.

"Y-yes," I stammered, my cheeks blazing like fire.

"I saw you looking, Elara," Cole growled, his teeth grazing my earlobe, sending a violent, electric shiver down my spine that ended right between my legs. "I saw your eyes drop. I felt your eyes burning into my c**k. You wanted to see it, didn't you? Even then?"

He ground his thigh against me in a brutal, slow, dragging rub that made my vision whiten and stars explode behind my eyes.

"My body isn't a mystery to you, is it?" he whispered, his hand sliding from my shoulder, down my arm, leaving a trail of fire on my skin. "You've seen me. You've seen exactly what I have. And right now, sis, it's aching so bad for you it's physically painful. It's throbbing."

"Stop it," I whimpered, but my body was a traitor. A screaming, begging, soaking traitor. My n*****s were pebbling ruthlessly against the damp silk of my dress, and sensitive, scraping against the fabric like little diamonds.

"Stop what?" Cole challenged, his hand coming to rest on my hip, his thumb rubbing brutal circles over the bone. "Stop telling the truth? You're dripping, Elara. I can feel the heat radiating off you. It's burning through my pants. Even after him... after Dad painted your face like a cheap whore... you're still wet. For me."

"I'm not!" I lied, my hips rocking forward on their own volition, seeking the brutal pressure of his leg, humping the air like a b***h in heat, desperate for friction.

"Liar," he hissed, his hand sliding up my side, his thumb grazing the underside of my breast, so close to the aching peak it was torture. "Your n*****s are hard, sis. Look at them. Poking through the silk like diamonds. Begging to be bitten. Begging to be sucked until you scream."

He didn't touch them. He hovered his hand there, the radiated heat from his palm making my skin cry out in agony, my back arching involuntarily, pushing my chest toward his hand.

"I'm your brother," he groaned, his eyes dropping to my chest, his breath hitching in a ragged, desperate pant. "I shouldn't be looking at your t**s. I shouldn't be thinking about how they'd feel weighing in my palms, my mouth stripping the silk away, my teeth marking that soft skin. But I am. God help me, I am."

He looked back up at me, his eyes wild, the mask of the charming, protective brother completely shattered, replaced by a man possessed.

"I'm fighting it, Elara," he panted, his control snapping like a dry twig. "I'm fighting the urge to rip this sticky, c*m-stained dress off you and mark you myself. To show Dad that he doesn't own you. I do."

He leaned in, his nose burying into the sticky skin of my neck, right where Hugh’s release had dripped, right where the scent was strongest.

"You smell like him," Cole groaned, his teeth grazing my pulse point, his tongue coming out to lap at the salt, at the very spot where Hugh had been. "But under that... I smell you. That sweet, innocent p***y that's clenching right now, isn't it? Clenching for your brother?"

"Yes," I sobbed, the admission tearing from my throat like a sin, a confession to the devil himself. "God, yes, Cole. Please. I feel... I feel so empty. It hurts."

"Please what?" he demanded, his hand finally closing over my breast, squeezing hard, his thumb flicking the hard peak through the silk, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight to my c**t, making me jump. "Please stop? Or please f**k me with your tongue until I forget he ever touched me? Until I forget he ever existed?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

He captured my mouth with his.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a devouring. A punishment. A sin against nature.

His tongue pushed past my lips, desperately, dominantly, tasting the salt of my tears and the lingering, bitter ghost of Hugh.

He kissed me like he hated me. He kissed me like he loved me. He kissed me like we were the only two people in the world damned enough to understand the depravity of what we were doing.

"Mine," he growled against my lips, his hand squeezing my breast harder, kneading the soft flesh, his other hand sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me flush against him so I could feel every inch of that rigid length pressing against me. "You're mine, Elara. Not his. Not Dad's. Mine."

He tore his mouth from mine, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jaw, his teeth nipping at my neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I'm going to wash him off you," Cole promised, his voice a dark, vibrating rumble against my skin, his hand sliding lower, gripping the hem of my dress. "With my tongue. Every. Last. Drop. And then I'm going to give you something real to remember. Something only your brother can give you."