Wet & Wicked: Forbidden Collection Of Lust

Twice As Dirty (VII)

Cole’s POV~

I watched her walk away from the table.

The sway of her hips in that red dress was a metronome for my beating heart. Dad was busy schmoozing, his hand slapping the back of some senator’s shoulder, completely oblivious to the fact that his "pride and joy" was walking right into my web.

He didn't see the flush on her neck. He didn't know that under that silk, her panties were sticking to her because of me.

I took my time. I finished the scotch, the ice clinking against the glass. I wiped my mouth, my eyes never leaving the archway she’d just passed through.

Patience, Cole. Make her stew.

When I finally stood, I adjusted my cuffs. I was the picture of the perfect, polished and dangerous son.

I didn't follow her into the dark hallway. I walked past it.

I found her near the grand entrance of the banquet hall, the threshold where the party’s noise spilled out into the marble foyer.

It was brighter here. Riskier. Anyone walking back from the restrooms or stepping out for air would see us instantly.

She was backing away from me, her chest heaving, her hands trembling where they gripped her purse like a shield.

"Scared, Elara?" I asked, my voice was low, like a vibration in the noisy air.

"I... Cole, we can't," she stammered, her eyes darting to the crowd just feet away. "Someone will see. Daddy will see."

"Daddy isn't here," I said, stepping into her space, backing her against the heavy velvet curtain draped over the entrance. "It's just us. The brother and the sister. The blood and the bond."

I looked down at her. She was small against the curtain.

I reached for my trousers.

I didn't rip them open. I took my time. My fingers worked the leather of my belt, the metal buckle clicking softly. Clink. Then, the button.

I grasped the zipper tab and zipped it open. The sound was swallowed by the orchestra, but in our little bubble, it was like a gunshot.

Her eyes dropped and turned wide and terrified.

I didn't push her down. Not yet. I just invaded her air, letting the tension build until it was a physical weight pressing against her chest.

"Move, Elara," I commanded softly, grasping her elbow. "Come here."

I didn't ask. I pulled her, not into the shadows, but right into the open archway. The light from the chandelier caught us. If Hugh looked this way, he’d see his son standing too close to his daughter.

"On your knees," I ordered. It wasn't a shout. It was a velvet trap. "Assume the position a sister takes for her big brother."

She hesitated, her breath coming in sharp, jagged gasps. "Cole, please. Not here. Anyone..."

"Kneel for me, sis," I hissed, my grip on her arm tightening, not enough to bruise, but enough to remind her who was in control. "Or do you want me to call Daddy over right now?"

The threat worked. She sank down. The cold marble floor met her knees, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off her.

She was eye-level with my waist. The perfect height. The perfect sin.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my boxer briefs and pulled them down, just enough.

My c**k sprang free.

It was heavy, slapping against my stomach. Thick and hot, the skin was stretched tight, flushed a dark, angry red that faded into a bruised purple at the swollen head.

I was roped with veins, the blue lines bulging under the skin, throbbing with every beat of my heart. A thick, clear drop of precum was already beading at the slit, sticky and shining in the light, just waiting to mark her.

It twitched, demanding her mouth.

I didn't force it into her mouth. I just held it there, letting her look at it. Letting her see exactly what her brother was offering. Letting the panic in her eyes mix with a dark, forbidden hunger.

"Look at it, Elara," I whispered, my hand reaching out to stroke her hair, gentle, possessive, terrifyingly calm while her body was a live wire. "This is what a real man feels like. Me. Your own flesh and blood."

I pressed the heavy, wet tip against her closed lips.

"Open," I ordered, my thumb smearing the precum against her bottom lip, marking her like a stamp. "Let your brother in."

She trembled, her lips parting just an inch.

"Wider," I growled softly, my other hand coming up to tilt her chin, forcing her to look at the monster between my legs. "Don't be shy now, sis. You've been thinking about this since the cabin. Since you saw what I have between my legs."

I guided myself forward, just the head, feeling the heat of her breath ghost over the sensitive skin.

"f**k," I groaned, my head falling back against the wall, the music of the party swirling around us. "That's it. Warm. Wet"

I pushed in slowly, inch by torturous inch, watching her eyes water as I stretched her mouth.

"Relax your throat," I commanded, my hand tightening in her hair, not pulling, just holding her in place, trapping her in the archway where God and Dad could see. "Take it all, sis. Every inch of your brother.** Choke on it. Choke on the fact that we share the same DNA."

She gagged, a wet, muffled sound that went straight to my balls, vibrating against my shaft.

"Shh," I soothed, rocking my hips gently, feeding her more of me, claiming her mouth in the most public way possible without being caught. "Don't fight it. Just let your brother fill you up. You're so good at this. Daddy never taught you to do it like this, did he?"

I looked down at her, her eyes wide, tears leaking from the corners, her lips stretched tight around me, glistening with her own saliva and my precum.

"You're mine, Elara," I growled, my pace picking up just a fraction, the wet slurp-gluck sounds threatening to drown out the violins. "Not his. Mine. I'm going to c*m down your throat, and you're going to swallow every drop of your brother's load."

I leaned down, my voice dropping to a dark, forbidden whisper right against her ear, even as I continued to use her mouth.

"Swallow me, sis. Swallow the sin. So when you go back in there and sit next to him, you'll taste me on your tongue. And you'll know exactly who owns your pussy."