Better Watch Out

Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“ Y ou don’t love me.” The words are out before I can really consider if they’re smart or not, and I writhe on the couch, unable to pull away from either of them. “That’s not…” I shake my head. “I haven’t seen either of you for seven fucking years. Whether or not you’ve been stalking me doesn’t count.” That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

“You think we just decided we loved you some time in the past seven years?” Fletcher murmurs against my shoulder, his voice soft and dangerous. “ Princess , we’ve loved you since before you left us. We just weren’t very good at showing it.”

“Really bad at showing it,” I agree under my breath.

“You’re right,” Boone agrees too quickly, and I glance up at him, alarmed. “We were so bad at showing it. But we’ve gotten so good. After all…” He reaches to the floor and picks up the water-stained box from the shed, upends it, and dumps the photos all over the floor in front of the couch. “Look at what we did for you.”

Thankfully in the near-dark, I can’t see more than shapes, stains, and limbs in awkward positions. But it’s enough. Now that I know who those three are, it’s enough for me to come to the worst conclusions possible about how they died. I can’t help the shudder that goes through me, and Boone lets out a soft sound, like a growl, before shoving me back into Fletcher’s grip and looming over me.

“See what we did?” he croons, reaching out to cradle my face in his hands. “All for you, snow bunny. We’d do anything for you. We’d do this to anyone and everyone who hurt you.”

“Not that you have to worry about that anymore,” Fletcher comments. “No one will hurt you while we have you.”

“I’m escaping, remember?” My mouth barely seems to work right, and forming words and thoughts is difficult.

Boone’s laugh is dark and menacing. “Sure,” he agrees. “Sure, you’re going to escape. I bet that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

“If we let you.” Fletcher bites down on my shoulder, dragging his hands up my sides and pulling my shirt up with him. “Let us show you, okay?” His voice is so soft, so promising. So sweet , even though I know there’s nothing but darkness under those words.

“Conor.” Fletcher jerks my chin up until I’m forced to look at his face and his wolfish, predatory grin. “We’re going to show you just how much we love you.”

Whatever argument I’m trying to come up with dies on my tongue when he grabs me and yanks me to my feet. I gasp, fighting against him automatically. But once again I find myself over his shoulder, being carried up to their room. This time it seems like the trip takes only a moment, before I’m on their shoved together beds on my ass with the door closing behind Fletcher.

“I can’t. I need…you have to give me time to process all of this,” I argue, shoving to my feet. Reaching up I rub my hands over my arms that are bare under my t-shirt, feeling cold even in the warmth of the house. “You can’t expect me to just be okay with it just like that. The two of you killed them!”

“We did more than kill them.” Boone stalks closer to me, eyes never leaving my face. Their room isn’t much brighter than the living room, but at least they have the moonlight filtering in and the glow of a color-changing lamp by Fletcher’s laptop on the desk. “We made them hurt and cry and beg. If you’d just watch the video, you’d get to see how they all tell you they’re sorry. They beg for your forgiveness, they promise to do all sorts of things to make it up to you.”

When he moves, I do as well; darting to the side only for him to grab me and yank my back against his chest. “No, no, no,” he murmurs. “You can figure it out right here with us, snow bunny. You’re not running away from us this time, okay? Not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

“You’re killers.” I still can’t quite move past that fact. “What if you decide I’m the problem next? That you don’t really love me, or?—”

Faster than I can register, Fletcher is suddenly in front of me, his fingers closing around my throat and cutting off my words. “Don’t you dare,” he whispers. “That’ll never happen, Conor. Not ever. You’ve been ours since Cheryl met your dad. You just didn’t know it. We’ll never kill you. Never hurt you more than you deserve.” A small, amused smirk twitches at his lips. “And never more than you can handle.”

“Let us show you, okay?” Boone’s voice is so soft, so sweet in my ear. “All you gotta do is let us show you how much we love you. How much you mean to us. And then if you still want to escape”—he shrugs—“we can talk about it, okay?”

That doesn’t sound very reassuring. At least not as much as I’m sure Boone intends it to be. “You promise that’ll never be me?” I force myself to ask, barely breathing as I wait for their answer.

Fletcher moves his hands as Boone clutches me more tightly to him, giving his brother the time to skim his fingers up my throat until he’s the one cradling my face in his long-fingered hands. “It will never be you,” he tells me, eyes holding mine in the darkness. “Though it might be for you, if anything happens to hurt you.”

The feeling that flares to life in my chest is strange and unwelcome…because it isn’t quite fear. And it makes me question my own fucked up self.

But thankfully Boone isn’t content to let me have an existential crisis on his watch. He grips my shirt in his hands, wasting no time in yanking it over my head. My shorts are next, and I can barely step out of them before he’s shoving me back down to the bed.

My body tenses as I roll over to look up at them, heart in my throat. But this time they don’t stand there, fully clothed, to make me feel vulnerable.

Instead, Boone twines around Fletcher, and lets the blond yank him into a filthy, consuming kiss. Boone moans into it, leaning his weight against his brother. But Fletcher isn’t so patient. He shoves at Boone’s clothes, dragging off his shirt and joggers until he’s just as naked as me.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him like this since we got here, though it shocks me to realize it. Both other times I’d been the only one without clothes, which I figure was the point. It was a power play of sorts, and it always had the intended effect of making me feel like the only vulnerable one in the room.

“Go keep your darling sister company,” Fletcher purrs, shoving Boone away with a quick nip to his lips.

Boone doesn’t argue or hesitate. He sinks down onto the bed, crawling toward me with purpose and intent in his dark eyes. Once he reaches me, Boone reaches out and shoves me back on the bed, holding himself over me as I stare up at him.

Fuck, he really is gorgeous. And so is Fletcher, I add to myself, once he lowers himself to the bed as well and shows he’s also pulled off what he’d been wearing. Just like I expected, Boone is more muscular than the blond, though it isn’t by a lot. With tanner skin and a smattering of freckles on his back, he looks like he’s made for the outdoors and the sun.

Fletcher just looks like he was made to be looked at in general. Like he’d shine in any light, but could be outdone by Boone in certain aspects.

They’re perfect. Matched in every way and more gorgeous than they have any right to be, given what they are.

“Look at you, beautiful girl.” Fletcher reaches out, curling his hand around my throat. “You don’t need clothes or lights or makeup. You were made for us, you know that?”

I don’t know how to respond to his praise, and I’m too busy watching BooneBoone kneel between my thighs with nervous anticipation to even try to come up with an answer.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since we got here,” he admits, reaching out to press his fingers to my hips. “You don’t understand how much I’ve been dying for this. I hadn’t even told him.” He nods to Fletcher, who snorts softly.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to tell me.” With his hand still on my throat, Fletcher reaches out, cupping my folds and causing me to gasp. “I can see your mouth water anytime she walks by. So come on, Boone. Don’t you want to taste your precious snow bunny?” Holding me down by my throat he slides his fingers down to part my folds for Boone.

“ Fuck ,” Boone groans, raking his fingers through his hair. “In case no one has ever told you this, you have such a pretty pussy, Conor.”

“You cannot say shit like that.” I finally find my voice, and I writhe in Fletcher’s hold, toes curling against the bed as my knees press to Boone’s hips. “And you can’t mean it.”

“I can’t?” Boone leans down, and licks a line up to my navel. “Why can’t I, hmm? Are you in my head when my mouth waters to get a taste of you? Or when I imagine you coming just from my mouth? Don’t tell me what I can or can’t mean, pretty girl.” His arms slip under my hips, anchoring me securely in place. Fletcher keeps his hand where it is as well, and Boone’s grin widens.

“Because this is the best Christmas present I could ever get from you.” Without another word he licks up my slit, causing me to yelp at the sudden feeling of it. My hips move to jerk upward, but that’s not happening; not with how tightly he holds me. He licks me again, and again, each time only teasing my clit for the barest of moments.

“You must taste good for him.” Fletcher’s chuckle is low and rough. He moves to lie down beside me, his fingers leaving my sex to skim up my body. “And I don’t mind letting him indulge. After all, there’s so much of you for me to play with.” He cups my breast in his hand, thumb flicking over my nipple.

I open my mouth to say something, but Boone takes that moment to lap at my clit, tongue finally giving me the attention I crave where I want it most. My yelp replaces any words that might have come out of my mouth, and my thighs clench around him. It takes me that long to realize my arms are free, and immediately my hand flies down, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Fuck, Boone?—”

“That’s right, snow bunny,” he hums. “You can pull my hair however you want while I eat your pretty pussy. You can’t hurt me.” As if to make his point he shoves his face against me, tonguing my clit rougher than before.

The feeling is perfect. Yet when Fletcher rolls my nipple between his fingers, moving to do the same to the other one, it sends a sharp sting through me which only adds to the heat pooling in my stomach.

“T-that hurts,” I gasp, tipping my head back to look up at the blond. “Fletcher!”

“I know it does,” he agrees. “I bet it stings, but I’m also willing to bet it’s making you wetter for our brother.” Boone moans his agreement, and his tongue slides between my folds, thrusting into me like he’s trying to lap up any and all of my arousal.

Fletcher saves me from having to come up with anything intelligent to say when he kisses me, his mouth sharp and insistent as he nibbles on my lower lip. He leans over me, leaving barely any room between us, as his hand massages and kneads my breasts, occasionally pinching my nipples and continuing to send those little stinging aches through my body, straight to my core.

He barely lets me up for air; which leaves me continuously panting and my head spinning. And when my free hand grips the hair at the back of his head, he doesn’t seem to care. It’s hard to think of much when he’s kissing me, playing with my breasts, and obscuring my vision with how he’s leaning over me.

But it’s even harder to think of anything once Boone’s fingers join his tongue. He thrusts them in and out of me, scissoring two and working me open on them. “So fucking hot,” he groans, licking over my clit again. “God, you’re already so wet. I wanna fuck your pretty pussy so bad, snow bunny. I know you have an IUD.”

Fletcher moves just enough so when I look down, I see Boone’s wicked grin. “Which means I get to come in your pretty pussy all I want.”

“How do you…” But I don’t get to finish my question. I probably don’t want the answer anyway, and Fletcher doesn’t care about my curiosity. Not with the way he growls and claims my mouth again, once more tasting every inch of space behind my teeth.

Two fingers becomes three, and three become four, resulting in me unable to stay still as my body begs for more without my permission. I find myself jerking against Boone’s grip, wanting to writhe and arch against his mouth.

“Another time I’ll let you ride my face, pretty thing,” he promises with a huff and a chuckle. “I’ll let you put me on my back on this bed and just sit on my face until I make you come all over me. Think you can soak my hair, hmm? Think you can make me a soaking, satisfied mess under you?” God, his words are filthy and perfect, and Fletcher swallows my answering moan.

“But we have other plans this time,” he goes on. “We have to show you how much we love you, remember?” Crooking his fingers inside me pulls a yelp from my throat, and Fletcher greedily takes that, too. “Come on my fingers, snow bunny.” It’s not a question, or a suggestion. It’s an order. “I can feel how wet you are.” His fingers spread, stretching and pushing at my walls. It’s so much, but not enough at the same time.

But it quickly becomes enough when his mouth is back on my clit. The focused attention has me writhing, making small sounds against Fletcher’s lips as he devours every single one of them, until my release hits me and I whine against my stepbrother’s mouth.

Boone fingers me through it, though the fingers of his other hand replace his tongue on my clit so he can thrust his tongue into me along with his fingers. He moans, lapping at my release, and continues thrusting his fingers in and out of me to draw out my orgasm.

“Enough.” Fletcher pulls back, his breathing a little uneven. “C’mon, Boone. You can eat her out for hours later.”

“Because we have such a schedule to stick to?” I mutter wryly, though I’m surprised when Boone sits up and grins at me.

“Yeah, snow bunny, we do.” But somehow his smile doesn’t reassure me. Fletcher sits up with me in his arms, only to switch our positions so he’s on his back. Confusion makes me tilt my head, my auburn hair sliding over my shoulders when I look down at him.

“You trust us, right?” Boone asks, but Fletcher is quick to scoff.

“Of course she doesn’t, Boone. We have to make her trust us.” His hands urge my hips upward, and Boone reaches around me to curl his fingers around Fletcher’s length as I watch. It’s incredibly hot to see him stroke up and down, appearing to know the perfect way to give Fletcher pleasure.

“Wow, it’s like you guys have done this before,” I mutter and glance back at Boone when he nips my shoulder.

“Once or twice,” he says with a snicker. “But don’t worry. We’ve discussed this more than enough to know what we’re doing with you. Promise. All you have to do is enjoy it.”

“Yeah, because that doesn’t sound suspicious at all—” I flinch when something lands on the bed by my knee, courtesy of Fletcher reaching under the pillows above him. On closer inspection I see it’s a small bottle of lube that Boone picks up, turning it over and uncapping it to drip the liquid onto Fletcher’s cock.

It must be cold because the blond hisses, throwing an arm over his eyes while Boone grins and goes back to sliding his fingers up and down his length. “Touch him,” he growls against my ear. “He won’t bite hard. And it’s going in your pussy in a second, anyway.”

Somehow that thought makes me shudder, and the words twist my stomach with anticipation. I leave one hand braced on the bed and the other I wrap around Fletcher’s length, slowly stroking along the velvety skin until I get to the tip. Only then do I trail my thumb over his slit, swiping away the bead of pre-cum while he groans appreciatively in his throat.

“C’mere, princess.” He reaches up for me, and Boone urges me forward until I’m kneeling over him, his cock brushing my folds. “Such a perfect girl,” the blond sighs, while Boone’s hands rest on my hips. I don’t get any time to move at my own pace—though I have no idea what that pace would be—before Boone pushes my hips down while Fletcher holds himself in place, his tip parting my folds and causing my breath to hitch in my throat.

“Fuck.” I shiver around him, his length sliding so deep into me at this angle. He’s longer than Boone, though not as thick, and realizing where he hits thanks to how his cock is curved is a fun revelation when he easily brushes that bundle of nerves and makes me see stars.

“ Fuck ,” I groan again, lacking a better response. It makes Boone chuckle and he shoves me forward until Fletcher can wrap his arms around me.

“What are you doing?” I ask, puzzled when he just…holds me there. I expect him to move, or to have me ride him. Something other than just this .

His wicked grin tells me I’ve underestimated them. “Showing you how much we love you,” he reiterates slowly.

I don’t get it. Even when Boone strokes over my hips I have no idea what they’re trying to do. It’s not until I feel his tip slide against me, just above where Fletcher’s cock parts my folds, that I look up at him with a soft gasp.

“You’re not going to—” He kisses me hard, urging me to get into it as Boone thrusts in shallowly, patiently working me open.

But there’s no way they’ll both fit. No way in hell this will actually work without me crying and needing to go to the ER.

“Just relax for me, snow bunny,” Boone murmurs from behind me. “Just need you to relax. I’ll go slow for you, I promise. We’ve been imagining this for months, years. I promise you’ll feel so good with both of us inside your pussy.” He slowly, ever so slowly, thrusts into me, pausing every few moments to rub soothing circles over my hips. And all while, Fletcher keeps kissing me through it, devouring my sounds of protests and gasps of panic.

When Boone bottoms out, his hips flush to my ass, I can’t believe it. He groans, shifting his fingers to grip my hips more tightly, and lets out a rough laugh. “ Fuck , Conor. You were literally made for us. How can you say I’m wrong when your pussy is perfect for us.”

“Such a good girl,” Fletcher agrees, finally letting me up for air, though he keeps his arms around me. “You’re taking our cocks so well, just like you should.”

“ Fuck ,” is the only word I can say. The stretch and the fullness is too much. Especially when Boone starts moving. He’s slow at first, murmuring comfort and praises while Fletcher traces patterns over my shoulder blades, and I’m very sure that there’s no way this will ever feel good.

Until it does.

Until the burn subsides, leaving behind just the perfect fullness and the slide of Boone’s cock against Fletcher’s. The blond arches his hips experimentally, dragging a surprised yelp from my throat that isn’t at all from pain.

“Oh, fuck ,” I reiterate. “I…I think I might be dying.”

“Does it hurt?” Fletcher asks, though neither of them pulls out or goes still.

“Not so much.” It’s hard for me to admit it. Especially when Boone takes that as encouragement and starts fucking into me faster, one hand braced as he leans over me so his chest is pressed to my back.

“Of course it doesn’t hurt,” he growls, nipping my shoulder. “Because you’re perfect . God, I want to do this all the time. We can do this whenever we want, right Fletch?”

My stomach twists again, and I finally realize I like being talked about when I’m between them. I like the idea of them playing with me, of them taking what they want from me and knowing what I want better than I do in situations like this.

I like it a lot .

And that probably says something pretty questionable about me. But Boone’s next thrust drives the thought and every other one out of my brain, and I fall forward onto Fletcher’s chest.

They take advantage of it immediately. Fletcher’s arms tighten, holding me against him, and Boone follows me down with a growl. They fuck me together, their cocks sliding against each other and against every inch of me until my head spins.

“I-I’m really close,” I admit, surprised at how quickly my body is responding to them after Boone eating me out. “Fuck, Fuck , I’m seriously?—”

“So come for us, princess,” Fletcher interrupts. “Come on our cocks. I want to feel you finish. Your pussy feels so good, you really were made for us.”

Boone growls his agreement and bites the side of my throat before murmuring, “Come for us so we can breed your pretty cunt until you’re dripping .” He bites me again, but this time he doesn’t let go. The sharp pain mixed with the pleasure of them fucking me makes me howl, and I throw my head back against him as much as I can. I have one hand in Boone’s hair, while the other clutches onto Fletcher’s arm like he’s an anchor.

I’ve never come so hard in my life. And when they keep fucking me, keep moving as their thrusts become out of sync and erratic, it only extends my release. I’m panting, nearly sobbing as my thighs ache and burn, my whole body begging for more and needing a break at the same time.

Though I can’t voice any of it. All I can do is pant and sob and whine my pleasure, until finally Boone curses and buries his face against my shoulder, sinking his teeth into me again. He thrusts twice more before burying himself in my body, as a long, feral groan leaves him. Fletcher isn’t far behind. He clutches me tightly to him, his hand joining mine in Boone’s hair to yank him impossibly closer, and for a few moments both of them are coming, panting against my skin as they ride out their pleasure in my body.

It’s filthy and depraved and questionable on so many levels.

It’s perfect.

“Oh, fuck .” Boone laughs, finally sitting up and pulling from my body. He’s still panting, and he helps me up as well, then onto my back on the bed beside Fletcher where I lay, my head spinning, and wonder if I’ll ever be able to see straight again. “Did we show you?” he asks, amused, as he flops down on my other side. His arm snugs over my waist, and absently I feel Fletcher’s fingers tucking my hair behind my ear.

“You certainly showed me something,” I say, looking over at him. My hand comes up, tracing the line of his jaw, and Fletcher takes that opportunity to get closer to me so my back is pressed to his chest.

“Well since you’re confused…” The blond’s hand curls over my hip, dipping toward my inner thigh. “We’ll be happy to show you again. However many times you need, actually. We don’t have any other plans for today.”