Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
APOLLO
I thought Ophelia was in danger. She was screaming so loudly I could hear her down the hallway. But I should have known it was because of my sneaky-ass brother. Ares disappeared from his bedroom while I was in the shower.
Found him.
He convinced Ophelia to get naked and in the tub with him. She’s on top of him, her nipples hard, and those big tits bouncing in his face. Her skin is glowing, and her cheeks flush as our eyes meet.
Ares squeezes her ass. “Don’t be shy. Ride my dick. My brother likes to watch.”
Yeah, I do.
When Ophelia took me to the club last night, I didn’t tell her about some of my fantasies. The O Club caters to every kink and desire. Last year, I considered joining to get closer to Ophelia and see how Belen’s most profitable club operated.
Now, she’s ours.
I shut the door without speaking to them. Ophelia’s eyes move between us. She looks unsure of what to do next.
I know she won’t get out of the water naked. She would probably jump out the window before she let us see her bare skin.
Ares brushes his fingers on her face to regain her attention. “Show my brother how much of a good girl you are for me.” His gaze moves back to me. “Let Apollo see how well you ride my cock.”
I grab my hard dick over my pants, and Ophelia’s eyes brighten with excitement. Even Ares doesn’t know her the way I do. And until he meets Mistress O, it will be our little secret.
I see her arousal increase as she looks at us, turned on by two men wanting to devour her. Ares thrusts his cock inside her, and she moves with him, her tits bouncing in my brother’s face.
I feel the pressure build in my balls, needing a release. So I unzip my pants seconds before Ares glances at me to see if I’m playing the game.
Of course, I am.
He knows I’m fucked up.
I gain pleasure from watching him and Atlas fuck women, and I enjoy it even more when they fuck women at the same time.
It’s not about them.
Or the women.
It’s about power.
Control.
Everything changed the night I walked in on Atlas fucking two girls and couldn’t force myself to leave. He didn’t care. My twin and I have shared everything. So he invited me to join them.
The girls were into it.
He handed me the blonde with big tits as if she were a piece of cake. But I couldn’t bring myself to do more than stare at them. The blonde seemed disappointed, but Atlas fucked her good, helping her to forget about me. And after I came into my hand, I left his bedroom, feeling disgusted.
Like I do now.
Fisting my shaft, I give myself a few strokes and lick my lips. I can’t see much more than Ophelia’s tits and those big, brown eyes that keep searching for me.
I want to go over there.
But that’s out of character.
I usually watch from a corner.
“Ares.” Ophelia wets her lips with her tongue and moans. “Oh, God.” Her head drops to his shoulder, and she turns to the side, eyes open. “Apollo, come here.”
I don’t move toward her but stop touching myself and consider her request. Ares knows I’m going to stay where I am. He knows what happened four years ago and why I can’t let her touch me.
His fingers slip through her hair, and as he looks at me, he brings her mouth to his to distract her. They kiss and fuck, moaning and panting as they move together as a team.
“You’re such a good girl,” Ares says once their lips separate. “Come for me, Little Dragon.” He turns her head to the side and licks her neck. “Come for Apollo.”
Heat glides over my skin as I jerk my cock harder, matching each of Ares’s thrusts into her pussy. My brother shatters her world, stealing one orgasm after another, tearing screams of pure pleasure from her lips.
I nut in my hand seconds before Ares comes inside Ophelia. She collapses onto his chest, struggling to catch her breath.
“Ares,” she whispers.
He’s equally spent and clutches her against his chest, stroking his fingers down her arm. “You fuck like a rock star, Little Dragon.” He kisses her lips. “Not that I would expect anything less than perfection from you.”
He’s really into her. I’ve never seen Ares show this much interest in a woman.
I tuck my cock back into my pants, needing to escape them.
It’s like this every time.
The shame.
The anxiety.
I wipe the cum from my hand on a towel and open the door.
“Apollo, where are you going?” Ophelia asks.
I can’t talk to her.
I can’t look at her.
“It’s his thing, baby,” Ares tells her. “Just let him go.”
My brothers have no problem indulging my obsession. Some nights, we stop by a bar on our way home from Akropolis, and I choose the girls. So far, none of them have complained.
Once, a woman asked, “Is he just going to stand there and watch?”
She wanted me to join.
But I refused.
I leave the bathroom, and Atlas steps into the hallway as I’m about to turn. He grabs my shoulder before we collide. The leather sketchbook our father gave him tumbles to the ground, flipping open to a new drawing of Ophelia.
We look at each other.
He’s an empath like me and can sense my emotions. “What’s wrong, Apollo?”
“Nothing,” I lie and grab the book from the floor, shoving it into his chest before entering my bedroom.
Atlas follows.
“Don’t fucking bullshit me. I know you better than you know yourself. I saw you leaving Ophelia’s bathroom. I heard her in there with Ares.” My twin’s eyebrows furrow. “So, I’ll ask you again, Apollo. What the fuck happened in there? And you better not lie to me.”
I can’t tell if he’s concerned or jealous. Maybe a little of both, considering he’s been drawing Ophelia nonstop. I wonder if he’s been jerking off to the pictures of her.
We look like brothers with the same black hair, olive skin, brown eyes, and our father’s Roman nose. But you would never know we’re twins.
He’s a few inches shorter than me, around six feet tall, muscular but lean. I enjoy wearing a suit. Atlas prefers jeans, graphic tees, and sneakers. My jaw is sharper, my face is more masculine, and my twin has a baby face. Our mother still pinches his cheeks because he looks so young.
I’m an extrovert, and he’s extremely introverted. Atlas would probably never leave the house if we didn’t have a bar and fight club to run. We’re so different, and yet we understand each other.
“It’s okay, Apollo.” Atlas puts his hand on my shoulder. “We’re cool with it. I’m sure Ophelia will be too.” He shrugs. “If you want me to fuck her, I will.”
The way he says it sounds like pity. Like he hasn’t wanted to fuck Ophelia since he started sketching her. He only draws people who fascinate him. And until Ophelia, he’s never sketched the same person more than once.
“Don’t do that.” I shove his hand off my shoulder to enter the bathroom. “I hate when you do that.” Running my hands under the sink, I scrub away the reminder of what I have done. “Ophelia isn’t like the other girls.”
Atlas leans against the door, sketchbook tucked under his left arm, a drawing pencil behind his ear. “Because of her dad?”
I shake my head. “No, because Ares likes her.”
“So do I,” he admits. “And it’s obvious you do, too. It won’t be any different from before.” He pushes off from the door, giving me a thoughtful look. “You don’t have to touch her. Let Ares and me satisfy her.”
They’re good at that. My brothers don’t have the same issues as I do. We have big dicks that leave women begging for more. But it’s easier to get off by myself while watching them.
“I want to touch her,” I say, and it sounds weird coming from me. “Seeing her on top of Ares in the tub…” I look away from Atlas and rake my fingers through my hair. “I want her to fuck me like that.”
I haven’t been inside a woman in years. Not since I got drunk my sophomore year at Yale and had some crazy sorority girl shackle me to her bed.
She did fucked-up things to me and wouldn’t let me go until the following day.
Thankfully, the drug-laced beer she kept feeding me helped me forget some of it.
After that night, I wasn’t the same. I didn’t want women to put their hands on me. I have only watched people having sex since then. And when I say people, I mean my brothers.
No one else understands.
“This is a big deal,” Atlas comments. “You haven’t wanted to fuck a girl since that night.”
“Yeah.” I breeze past him to sit at the desk and flip open the laptop. “Can we please not talk about it?”
After the computer boots up, I type my password and open the most recent spreadsheet when the computer boots up. It’s my job to maintain the books at every club, a simple task for someone with my schooling and background.
This is all part of our plan to take down Belen Drakos. Unfortunately, Ophelia is in the middle of our feud with her father. We’re taking him down along with her dirtbag uncle.
Atlas sits on the windowsill beside my desk, tapping his tattooed fingers on the leather book he rests on his lap. “You should fuck her,” he suggests. “Maybe it will help you get over—”
I hold out my hand. “Don’t finish that thought.”
“It’s been four years, Apollo.”
“I’m sure a woman forced into a similar situation as me wouldn’t put a timeline on when she wanted to have sex again.” Keeping my eyes on the screen, I scan the numbers in the columns, finding comfort in my work. “Now, if you don’t mind, Atlas, I have to finish this report within the hour.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Atlas gets up from the windowsill and sighs. He attempts to touch my arm, and I recoil. “I’m not trying to downplay what happened. I hope Ophelia is the one who helps you heal.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “She could be the one. Too bad she’s going to hate all of us for what we’re doing to her family.”
Herein lies our predicament.
Revenge or her?