Chapter 32 Wesson
Wesson
I’d always admired Atlas, especially when he got like this.
All surly and mean, taking what he wanted and screw anyone who got in his way.
Except now that I was on the receiving end of that, I couldn’t help the tiny bit of fear that swirled with my excitement.
Maybe he read this in my eyes or felt it across the bond because he flashed me that lady-killer grin and winked.
“I told you if I caught you, I would do whatever I wanted with you.” He sat back on my hips, pressing his full weight on my throbbing dick, and pulled the leather out of his belt buckle. “Time to pay up, little brother.”
The jingling metal echoed off the trees, and somehow, that sound made this more real.
I love you. We love you.
It repeated in my head as he shoved his pants down, took out his cock, and scooted up my body so his shins pressed my biceps into the ground. He sat back on my chest and stroked his shaft inches from my face, little drips of precum leaking out of the head.
My mouth watered, and as much as I had fought him, fought this, I had secretly hoped it would end up here. My muscles trembled and I stared up his long torso, the heat in his eyes propelling me forward. I lifted my head, trying to lick him, but he pushed my forehead back down.
“Patience,” he said with a chuckle. “So greedy. You must have missed my cock almost as much as me, huh?”
It brought up memories of being in the liminal with him, when I’d shaken as he’d taken me as hard as he wanted.
Of course, that hadn’t really been me…or rather, it hadn’t been completely me.
In the weeks since I left them, I’d come to realize the demon had me then.
It had probably had me the entire time we’d been there, since it sliced open my chest and infiltrated my dreams. But I pushed thoughts like that away.
They didn’t have any place here with my brother and me.
No, the only things allowed here were the woods and the moonlight and the mischief in Atlas’s eyes as he worked himself inches from my face.
“Now, are you going to be a good boy and let me fuck your throat?” He raised a condescending eyebrow, and every self-respecting cell in my body told me to fight him.
But now? Fuck, I sank into submission with all the grace of a newborn donkey. My knees shook and my heart raced, and if he didn’t do something soon, I might lose my nerve.
“Yes,” I finally croaked, nodding quickly.
He hummed a laugh and threaded his fingers through my hair, gripping the crown tight.
“Open your mouth,” he said.
I did, and he leaned over me to spit on my tongue.
It should have repulsed me, should have made me feel degraded and humiliated.
I deserved it, he said. I deserved worse, I thought.
But it had the opposite effect. I moaned and let him slap his cock against my tongue, playfully batting the tip against my skin.
“Lick me,” he commanded, and I rushed to obey, lapping at the underside, the head, the slit, anything I could reach.
Like this, he was utterly in his element, so powerful and controlling, and my conscience stopped riding me.
I didn’t have to think about Marta or my absence or the shame ruining everything that was once good about me.
I only had to do this one thing. I only had to stick out my tongue and do whatever my brother told me to do.
The monster at the back of my mind, the one constantly beating against metal bars and begging to be let out of its cage, was notably gone. Quiet. Wordless. Blessedly absent.
The silence was intoxicating, and when he finally stuffed himself inside my mouth, I relaxed into the eternal peace of him.
Just him. I sucked and softened my jaw, letting him press in and out.
He tasted like salt and sweat and Atlas, and the combination added to my blissed-out state.
Warmth rushed around my own cock as the tie between us blazed to life.
I didn’t think I’d ever get over that, the strange symbiotic limerence of our blood bond.
Being this far away from Marta made it feel incomplete, and her absence from this whole experience plucked at the strain on my heart.
He said he loved me. He said Marta was a mess without me.
And it hit me then, while I was sucking my brother’s cock.
All the times they’d shown me. When they wouldn’t leave me in the liminal.
When Marta smiled up at me first thing in the morning.
When we took care of each other for two months while fighting over laundry and dishes in the sink.
Maybe he was right…Maybe I let this burning shame inside of me get the better of my senses. Maybe I was flawed and imperfect and fucked-up, but maybe that was enough. Just like they were beautiful wrecked and broken, and that was enough for me.
I’d been such a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have left him.
I shouldn’t have let my guilt eat me alive.
I should have listened to my brother from the start.
We were in this now, the three of us, and now that the train had run off the tracks, I had to keep my hands and feet inside the vehicle until it imploded.
“There ya go. That’s right, let me have your throat,” Atlas cooed, pulling out only to thrust in deeper.
He hit the back of my mouth, and I focused on breathing in through my nose to keep from gagging, but fuck, even that turned me on.
My eyes watered, and drool dripped out of the corners of my lips, but pinned down as I was, there was nothing I could do but endure it.
Of course, someone like Atlas fucking my mouth was hardly something to endure.
No, I cherished it. I let him use my mouth however he wanted because he was my brother, and I loved him, and we were intertwined in ways that could never be undone.
Hadn’t I insisted on this? Hadn’t I been the one saying what happened in the liminal stayed in the liminal? And now with his full weight on my chest and his cock in my throat, I found myself infinitely thrilled that he hadn’t listened to that.
It was fucked up, certainly, but we’d been fucked-up our whole lives, and why stop now?
He stilled his movements and pulled out, giving me a chance to suck in a deep gasp of air.
“Aww, look at how adorable you are.” He swiped his thumb under my eyes to brush away my tears and wiped the corners of my lips. “Such a pretty little cocksucker.”
I panted while he undid my belt, zipped down my jeans, and flipped me over. I barely had time to brace myself before his tongue was in my ass, licking and swiping and forcing my face down to the ground from the sheer exhilaration racing through my blood.
“Yes,” I cried, unwillingly sending the telepathic moan straight to him.
He laughed and tongue-fucked me harder, and my cock leaked onto the undergrowth, an obscene display of just how much I loved it.
I scrambled for purchase on the ground, but my muscles trembled so hard, I couldn’t hold myself up.
And when he pressed a finger inside me, I nearly collapsed.
“Look at this tight little hole,” he taunted, coaxing his finger in deeper. “I’m going to wreck you, brother, more than I did in the liminal. And I think you like that most of all, huh?”
“Fucking hell, Atlas,” I managed to grumble.
“Aww, such niceties now that I’m finger-fucking you,” he said. “I ought to pound you into the leaves for the way you coldclocked me.”
“You deserved it,” I said, pushing back on him to urge him on.
My cock throbbed, and when one finger became two, he pressed on a spot inside that surged a wicked, filthy ecstasy straight up my spine and down into my balls.
I tucked my face into the crook of my elbow and sighed, the pleasure too great, the agony far greater.
I whined when he pulled his fingers out of me, surprising myself with how much I desperately wanted him to fill me again. But the sound of a bottle cap had me looking over my shoulder at him as he squirted lube onto his palm and rubbed it over his cock.
Fucking hell. He brought lube?
“You’re Goddamned right,” he said. “I told you I was going to win, and I meant it.”
“You couldn’t have known that,” I said as he lined the tip of his erection up at my entrance and nudged it in. The first prodding pressure had me arching off the ground, wincing against the stretch.
“Oh, I knew that, little brother,” he said, grabbing my hips. “You wanted me to win. You wanted me to track you down and find you and make you pay for it.”
The idea of being seen, of being known, so completely brought tears to my eyes, and I blinked them back as he pulled out only a fraction before pushing in again. This time farther. This time harder.
“You wanted me to punish you,” he hissed, his tone light and breathy.
This was affecting him as much as me. How long had we danced around this thing between us?
How long had it been there, unearthed, biding its time, waiting to burst to life with so much ferocity, neither of us could hold it back? “Tell me, do you feel punished?”
At the words, he shoved in as far as he could go, bringing our pelvises flush, his balls slamming against mine. He hit that spot again, the one that made my cock leak, and I melted into the ground with a silent plea and a very audible grunt.
“Wes,” he said, leaning over me so his mouth was by my ear. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been punished.”
“Good,” he said. “I forgive you for taking off. Our witch will forgive you, too. Now you must forgive yourself.”
It broke me. With his cock balls-deep inside me and the weight of his affection rushing through my blood, I collapsed in on myself. I almost sobbed.
“Can you do that for me?” he asked, pressing a delicate kiss to my ear.
“While I fuck you, I want you to focus on letting go of all that bullshit. You don’t need it anymore.
” He inched out slowly, so fucking slowly, and then pushed back in, and I saw stars.
The euphoria was nearly unbearable, and I wanted more. I wanted it harder, rougher.
“Say it,” came his voice again, followed by a hard bite near my shoulder. “Tell me I love you.”
“You love me,” I repeated.
“Good.” He fucked me again, his fingers digging into my hips, the squishy sounds of our bodies rubbing together nearly perverse. “Say you love me.”
“I love you,” I answered immediately.
“And how do you feel about our witch?” he asked, peppering kisses up the back of my neck and to the other side.
“I love her, too.” The words rang true as they left my lips.
“Do you think she loves you?” He rolled into me, pressing against my insides in the way only someone so profoundly connected to me could ever know.
“Yes,” I cried. “Yes, she loves me.”
“That’s a good boy.” He pulled off me, and a sharp thudding pain hit my ass cheek, forcing me to suck in a rough gasp.
He spanked me. That fucker actually spanked me.
“Don’t you fucking forget it,” he snarled before he smacked the other side, too.
Then he fucked me in earnest. He rutted into me, holding me down by the lower back while he painted my ass red. And fuck, I loved that, too. I muttered obscenities, things like, “Harder,” and “Please,” and “Deeper, please deeper.” Atlas obliged me.
I came much earlier than I wanted, the explosion rocketing through my body like a meteor crashing into Earth’s atmosphere.
My toes curled, my teeth clenched together, and my fingers turned to claws in the dirt, but my God, it was terrific.
I blasted into orbit and floated to the stars, my vision damn near blacking out.
I spilled onto the ground under me without Atlas ever having to touch my cock, and he just laughed and laughed and fucked me harder.
“How embarrassing for you,” he said. “Can’t even stand a cock in your ass for more than five minutes.”
“Fuck you,” I sputtered, trying to regain my focus through the haze and the sudden dizziness.
“That’s the whole point,” he said.
It went on for an eternity, the two of us in those woods. He made me repeat the words until they numbed my tongue. I love you. You love me. I love Marta. Marta loves me. And I felt them in my bones.
Just when he was on the precipice of his own climax, just when I sensed the imminent implosion, he leaned over me, twisted my face around so he could bring his lips to mine, and he whispered, “Now, tell me you deserve it.”
I was afraid to utter the words, fearing how they might settle into my bones and never leave.
“Tell me you don’t have to protect us,” he said. “Tell me we protect each other. Together. And don’t you dare fucking lie to me.”
Despite it all, I managed a quiet, “We protect each other together.”
He kissed me, his climax finally ripping through him, tearing into me through the bond. It set me off again, and I rutted into the dirt like a teenager on prom night, desperate to find any friction to ease my agitation. His orgasm rebounded, surging out of me and into him and into me again.
It was torture. It was bliss. It was heaven and hell and everything in the universe combined.
When he rolled off me, he collapsed at my side and closed his eyes, panting and sweaty and fucking beautiful in all his powerful glory. I lay boneless on my stomach, my arms tucked under my head, my face tilted toward him so I could focus on all the tiny details that made him so…him.
The shape of his cheeks as they curled into his jaw.
The brush of light brown hair near his ears.
The tiny jump of his heartbeat at the pulse in his neck.
The way his strong hands sloped into his fingers, such violent weapons that had been coated in blood more times than I could count.
And yet, he used them to bring us here, to bring me back from the brink, to remind me who I was and, more importantly, who I belonged to.
“Thank you, Atlas,” I said.
He pulled his lips into a slow, lazy grin and rolled toward me, leaning in to give me a soft kiss.
“Come home to us,” he said. “You need us. We need you.”
I nodded and gave him another quick peck before wrapping an arm over his ribs to pull him in close, nuzzling my head under his chin and inhaling him deeply. He smelled like sweat and pine and him. He smelled like home.
We lay under the stars for a while and listened to each other breathe before Atlas rolled on top of me and took me again.
That time was slower, languid, a necessary reconnection.
And when he’d had his fill of me, he yanked me to my feet, took me back to the motel, and forced us both in the shower. Then, we started the long journey home.