Fort Brothers

0010 — Edmund

Back to the wall. Mouth shut. Nothing left to throw.

There’s nothing noble about cornering someone until they go quiet. It’s not chess. It’s not fair.

Not that I glorified in that kind of victory. I’m not some cartoon villain stroking a cat while monologuing about my dark appetites.

This wasn’t fun for fun’s sake.

But. I wasn’t fooled for a second.

My frown deepened, as I lasered my focus onto Isa. She was lying. Blatantly.

Who the f**k is she?

I took a step toward her. Her eyes went wide. Not surprised wide. Cornered wide. Her breathing quickened, shallow enough that I could see it in the rise and fall of her chest.

My gaze dropped to her mouth. That pretty mouth. Pretty enough to tell lies. She Caught her lower lip between her teeth and bit down.Just enough to leave the lip slightly pinched before letting it go.

One more stride and the space was gone.

I pulled her hard against me, and crushed my mouth to hers.

My tongue forced its way past her lips, claiming the warm, silky depths of her mouth with deep, demanding strokes

Her words surfaced from memory, uninvited. The ones she’d tossed out so casually, the other day.

'I get wet.'

Was she getting wet right now? Was that tight little cunt of hers slick and aching while I devoured her mouth?

The kiss turned electric — raw, pulsing energy crackling through every nerve in my body. I didn’t need her on her knees anymore. This was better. This was everything. The satisfaction of finally tasting her flooded me, yet it only sharpened the hunger, made me want more.

So much more.

I kissed her harder, one hand sliding into her hair, the other gripping her waist, pulling her body flush against mine.

What was it like between her thighs? That thought burned through me as her hands gripped my arms, her nails digging soft crescents into my skin—gentle pressure that somehow anchored me and unraveled me at the same time.

Bzzzzt.

The sound took a second to register.

Fuck.

Doorbell.

I froze, pulled back just enough to look down at her.

Her cheeks were flushed deep rose, her hazel eyes wide with shock and something darker, lips parted and glistening, pink and beautifully swollen from my kiss.

Floor, walls, my control — all of it started to tilt.

Except Isa. Her mouth was the center point. Gravity. I leaned in again, drawn like a compass needle that forgot how to point anywhere else.

I told myself I’d be gentle this time. No orders. No sharp edges. I wasn’t here to terrify her. Not unless she shoved me with more lies.

That reminder brought reality crashing back.

I stayed close enough to taste her when I said, “Isa. Look at me. Were you lying back there?”

My eyes searched hers.

Say no.

Give me that, and I'd stop thinking. Stop caring about anything beyond the woman standing in front of me.

I’d believe her. God help me, I’d believe her.

Because when she looked at me like that I could convince myself of anything.

“Ed… Eddie. Edmund…”

She said my name. Soft. Uncertain. Breaking on each syllable.

She’d never been a perfect speaker. I liked her that way. Words ruined her mouth. Made it work too hard. I wanted to kiss her quiet far more than I wanted to hear her speak.

I was leaning in to claim those lips again when—

The doorbell rang once more, sharp and insistent, cutting through the charged silence.

I cursed under my breath, forehead resting against hers for a second, breathing hard. My c**k was painfully hard, straining against my pants, and every instinct screamed at me to ignore whoever the f**k was at the door and keep going.

To lift Isa onto the nearest surface and finally discover exactly how wet she was for me.

But the ringing came again. Louder. More impatient.

I pulled back with a low growl of frustration, my hands still gripping her waist.

“Don’t move,” I told her, voice low and rough. My thumb brushed over her swollen lower lip, fighting the urge to kiss her again. “Stay right here.”

Her flushed face and dazed eyes made it almost impossible to walk away. I forced myself to step back, adjusting my shirt and trying to will my erection down as I moved toward the door.

Every step felt like a betrayal of what my body desperately wanted.

I glanced back at Isa one last time — lips kiss-bruised, chest rising and falling quickly, looking thoroughly ravished and impossibly tempting — before reaching for the door handle.

I swung the door open.

Rayer stood there. One look at his face and I f*****g knew.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. .

I felt Isa’s presence behind me — her flushed skin, swollen lips, the scent of her still clinging to my shirt. My c**k twitched traitorously at the memory of her body pressed against mine, her nails digging into my arms.

Not now.

Rayner's eyes flicked past my shoulder, narrowing the moment he spotted her. His expression darkened further

I stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind me with a firm click, cutting Isa off from view.

Then I grabbed his arm and dragged him down the porch steps, away from the house.

The sky had darkened into deep twilight, the last traces of daylight bleeding out. Cool evening air hit my heated skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm still raging inside me.

“I’m sorry, okay?” I muttered, keeping my voice low. “Something came up.”

Rayner yanked his arm free and spun on me,

“Something came up? That’s what you’re going with? You look like you’ve been rolling around in war zone—shirt half untucked, face flushed like you just ran ten miles. And who the hell is that woman in your house?”

I clenched my jaw. My c**k hadn’t fully softened yet, and the frustration of being ripped away from her burned hot in my veins.

Rayner let out a harsh laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Jesus Christ, Eddie. I scheduled that meeting. 10am. Like I said I would. Texted you. Called you. Your line’s been dead all f*****g day. You think I’m making this up for fun?”

He looked me up and down, taking in the red shirt and dark pants I'd thrown on that morning. "What the f**k, man?"

I knew I’d f****d up. Big time. Shame burned in my gut, but it wasn’t enough to kill the heat still coursing through my veins. I wasn’t proud of myself. Not even close.

“We’re hanging on by a thread right now,” Rayner continued, “And there better be some good f*****g explanations. This is the first time in three years you’ve pulled this s**t. First time.”

First time.

The words landed heavy. Three years of discipline, of keeping my head on straight, of never letting personal s**t interfere with the company. And today I’d broken that rule for a woman whose mouth I couldn’t stop tasting.

How many more?