My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and for a moment, I hesitate, feeling ashamed of what I’m about to admit. But we’re already passed it. We’ve already crossed the big red line.
“Fuck me hard, big brother,” I whisper, my tone cracking but sure. “Show me how much you’ve wanted this. How much you’ve wantedme.Make me never forget it.”
A growl tears from his throat as he slaps his hand over my mouth, silencing me with firm pressure. His other hand grips the headboard, knuckles white as he holds it steady, anchoring us both. At first, his thrusts are steady, making me feel every inch of him. But it doesn’t last.
Soon, he’s slamming into me, his cock driving so deep it feels like he’s touching places no one ever could—like I can feel him in my fucking stomach. My legs tense, my body trembling uncontrollably, and the screams I can’t hold back are muffled against his hand. The relentless force of him, the overwhelming sensations, consume me entirely.
He makes me come,
Once,
Twice,
Three times—
I’ve lost fucking count, the pleasure shattering me over and over.
I’m dripping, I can feel the mattress beneath me is soaked with my come and blood, my thighs slick, and his drenched cock glides in and out with a wet, filthy sound that fills the room. He doesn’t even slow down, as if the mess we’ve made only drives him more savage.
His hips slap against my skin with power, echoing through the room and my legs strain against the Christmas lights, the bindings digging into my flesh as his pace becomes brutal. A fleeting thought flickers in the back of my mind—what if someone hears us? But it’s drowned out by the sweeping sensation of him.
I always knew Rook was insane. But this? He’s lost himself, his mind crazed by me, by this. He’s not just fucking me—he’s rewriting me, violating me for anyone else. With every thrust, he carves himself into me, so deeply, so thoroughly, that I know I’ll never be the same. My innocence is long gone now, it’s been torn right out me by my big brother. And I crave it. Iwanthim to destroy me, to let his darkness seep into me, winding itself around my soul.
When he comes the first time, he pulls out quickly, his cock twitching as warm ropes of his jizz pump over my swollen, battered pussy as he jerks himself off. The heat of it soothes the throbbing for a stolen second. His forehead presses against mine, his breath coming in heavy bursts as we cling to the wreckage we just created.
The room is thick with the scent of our sweat and sex, and I can barely breathe, each inhale shallow as I struggle to recover. But the respite is short-lived. I see it—a flicker in his eyes, dark and unreadable. Before I can process it, he grabs his hard cock again and plunges back into me in one swift, devastatingstroke. A cry tears from my throat, muffled by his hand, the mix of pain and pleasure overpowering.
He doesn’t hold back. He fucks me violently, my tits bouncing wildly. I sense the pent-up frustration pouring out of him with every thrust. It’s all there—the hunger, the longing, and something deeper, riskier. Love. Distorted, uncontrollable, undeniable love.
Suddenly, he removes his hand from my mouth, and before I can catch my breath, his lips crush mine in a feral kiss. It’s desperate and full of everything he can’t say. My body tenses beneath him as his hips drive into me, but then his hands move, both gripping the sparkling headboard for leverage.
My legs hang limply in the Christmas lights now, twitching and numb, utterly dead from his harsh speed. And then, just as I’m about to come undone again, his rhythm changes. His thrusts become more controlled, as his mouth moves against mine with tenderness.
The kiss softens, his lips brushing mine in a way that steals my breath all over again. A low moan escapes me, spilling into his mouth as his cock fills me so completely, so perfectly, I can’t imagine ever wanting anything else.
“That's my good little sister. Look at you—you’re taking my cock so well. You were always made for me, for this devastation. You were born to be my beautifully, ruined obsession,” he whispers breathlessly against my mouth.
He trails kisses down the line of my jaw, and I tilt my head back with a gasp, the sensation making my skin shiver.
“I’m going to fill this sweet little pussy with my cum now,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.
His mouth then claims my nipple, biting and sucking, pulling moans from my throat that I can’t control. Both his hands find my throat, squeezing as he presses down, pushing me deeper into the pillow, his eyes glittering with sinful darkness.
I gasp, desperate for air, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if I pass out. He starts hammering into me with cruel strength, forcing me to take every inch of his big cock repeatedly, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. The sound of the headboard slamming against the wall echoes in my ears, drowning out my strangled cries.
I can’t fucking think. I can’t even process the fact that we’re playing with fire—that if anyone finds out he’s ruining me like this, if anyone hears us, it’s all over. It would destroy everything, end us both. But it seems like Rook is ready to risk it all for this moment. When I come again, my mind unravels, each wave of pleasure crashing through me like a violent storm.
And then, suddenly—the room is colder, his heat gone as he’s ripped out of my pulsing pussy in the middle of our chaos. Before I can gather myself, I hear it—a loud crash. My eyes snap open, wide with panic.
The light flicks on, blinding, and my body moves instinctively, slamming my tied legs shut as I scramble to the side of the bed, pressing myself to the headboard. My heart races, but everything seems to move in slow motion as my gaze falls on him.
Rook. Standing there, his body coiled with tension, like a beast ready to pounce.
But it’s not him who has my attention now. No, it’s the man standing in front of him. My fucking dad. His chest rises andfalls with each breath, fists clenched, wrath in his gaze. Tears sting my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest as I struggle against the Christmas lights, desperately trying to free my hands because I know—without a doubt—someone’s going to die tonight.
After that night, everything fell apart. Ryker was involved, and I was told to leave Ebony behind—to “focus on other things and clear my head from my little sister,” as he put it. But not until I told her how I felt—how I really felt. And let’s just say, that didn’t go as planned. She made it very fucking clear she didn’t feel the same, or at least, that’s what she wanted me to believe.
And I did. So, I did what she asked.
