“I’m safe, Ro,” I reassure him, rubbing him gently, centering him—anchoring him to me. Clicking off the seatbelt, beneath the moon and starlight sky, my hand moves between his thighs and instantly feels the bulge tenting his jeans. “Xena, not the time.”
“Oh, it’s definitely the time.” My hungry hand moves, pulling down his zipper and releasing his thick, veiny cock that now wears my mark with a nice silver barbell. An X on the tip of it.
Mine.
Stroking him slowly, he sighs, looking at me for just a second before his eyes relax on the road. “It’s okay, Ro.”
“It’s not,” he hisses as my thumb brushes over the tip, smearing the liquid leaking from the slit. He’s right. It’s not.
Between the invitation to Fright Night and the fucking dead animals that have been appearing near our cabin. Which I was oblivious to until I found the rabbit—I know it’s not. Vik has another brother, and I’m sure we have both come to the same conclusion—he’s coming for us. So, in moments like this, I indulge them. After all, I don’t know when it will be taken from me. Life has a fucked up way of taking away my happiness, and lately, things have been too quiet…
I’m sure he fears the same, but this time, he will not be alone—I will be with him, because there’s no Xena without her Roman and there’s no Roman without his Xena. We are one.
Leaning over the middle console, my tongue darts out, collecting the line of clear liquid, before taking him into my mouth, which earns me a hiss and his hand moving to fist my hair. “Fuck, Xena. Keep doing that and I might crash.”
I giggle around his length before taking him deeper, hollowing out my cheeks as my tongue runs down the length of his shaft and swirls at the tip before sucking up my spit and his precum and bringing him deeper into my throat.
“F–fuck,” he moans in a breathless whisper. I love when he moans and he breathes out my name like a prayer, and how his leg becomes restless from the pleasure. His hips move up slightly, helping me to push him deeper into me. I choke on it for a while, letting stars dance in my vision before I finally pull away. Strings of spit leak from my mouth before I crash my lips into his. Thankfully, I sucked him for a good while, and we are now right at the bottom of the driveway. The moment he puts the truck in park, I straddle him.
My black skirt rides to my hips as I grind my wet panties into him. I wear skirts most of the time for easier access. I will always be an addict, and his cock is my fucking drug. There’s nothing I want more than Roman. There are no words spoken, only silent commands and pleas. His hand slips my panties to the side before I sink onto him—both of us moaning as I impale myself. The fullness of him makes my walls flutter, as he thrusts up, his nails digging into my hips as he holds me there.
Pushing the seat back, allowing him to stretch, then his hand moves inside my black shirt. His hand is cold against my feverish skin—snaking its way up my chest and fondling my breast. My hips roll with his guidance, one hand remaining firm on my hip, making sure he keeps me where he wants me while theother plays with my pierced nipple. My nails claw into his neck, making sure to dig into his skin and create little crescent marks as I ride him under the stars. Heat coils around the base of my spine, spreading into my core. My walls tightened around his length, and he groans, responding with a slow roll of his hips. His fingers pinch my nipples, causing my breath to stutter as I grind into him.
It’s nothing sexy—it’s sweaty, breathless, and quick. We fuck like we want to devour each other and have places to be. His large hand moves away from my tit and works its way up to my neck, curling around it and forcing me to look at his greenish hazel orbs. “Look at me while you ride what’s yours to take.”
Fuck. I’m going to come.
The heat gathers in my center—my frantic movements slowing down to enjoy every inch he has to give. My body is taut, hanging on its last threads, before my body shivers and the dam explodes. Darkness dances in my vision—I can’t breathe as I look at his mouth opening, fishing for a breath, but all I get are his lips on me as he follows me to the edge. “I love you,” he breathes into my lips, releasing my neck as I gasp into his. Sucking the warmth of his breath into my lungs. Breathing him in.
My love.
My tormentor.
My fucking stepbrother.
“Let’s get you inside.” He tugs on my loose braid, and I whine as I feel him slip from inside me, his cum leaking down my legs and into his jeans. His finger trails up my thigh, gathering his cum and then feeding it to me.
“Don’t let it go to waste, little junkie.” My tongue swirls around his digit, tasting the salty taste of us, groaning as a shiver runs up my spine. Roman’s hands cup my ass, and I don’t know how he does it, but he opens the door using his feet. With me in his arms, he moves us back inside. My legs wrap around him like avice while I kiss his neck. This is going to be a long night for us both…
Chapter Four
Roman
Iwatch as my little snake sleeps comfortably on my chest, feeling the rise of her chest as she softly snores. I don’t know what’s going on but something deep inside tells me she’s in danger—we are in danger. The worst part is that she’s blind when it comes to whatever her name is—it's like she can’t see the real face behind the mask. But that’s my little snake for you, too naive for a world that’s too cold. You’d think she’d know better. But her friend is just a pretty package, all gloss and no soul— and I don’t fucking like her.
I tolerate her for Xena... for the friendship and sisterhood she desperately seeks, but I see through the glitter facade. I see a snake… and unlike Xena, that woman is poisonous. Just gotta get my girl to see it, and that’s the tricky part. I’m barely getting any sleep… every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of movement, I'm ready to slit someone's throat.
Even while I’m working, I’m consumed by the thought there's something wrong. I mean it’s not like the messages aren’t a clearindication, but I just hate waiting for the shoe to drop. I’m the kind of man who hits first and asks questions later.
But being hunted by ghosts I can’t name? A face I've yet to encounter. Makes my skin itch.
I walk the streets looking for a trace of familiarity. I even went as far as looking shit up on the web, trying to find anything on Vik or the golden boy’s other brother, but he’s untraceable. Or maybe I’m just stupid. I fill my lungs with the smell of her shampoo, holding on to every part of her. Dread creeps up on me. There’s not many things that can scare me but losing her… completely does.
The thought alone is enough to send me into the deep end. I don’t know what I would do without her—but I do know I would be heartless. I’d be alive but not living. Without her life has no meaning. My arms tighten around her sleeping, naked body, pulling her farther into mine. I mean it when I say that I’m obsessed.
Sick with her illness.
My cock hardens instantly at the feel of her soft body, her healthy body—no longer flesh and bones from her addiction. I’m proud of her—months clean, and not because I kept her from using, but from her own choice. She’s choosing sobriety this time and that only made me fall harder for her. The pad of my fingertip traces softly along the curve of her spine as I slip inside her—holding her. I don’t want to fuck; this is more to connect as one.
