24. The Confession
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE CONFESSION
Orion
Everything hits me all at once.
It’s taking everything inside me to keep my emotions under control.
Everything .
All I’ve ever wanted, the only person who’s ever made me feel a sliver of what I now understand to be love, is on her knees before me. And fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m momentarily speechless. I swallow, my throat clicking, as I attempt to get back into the right headspace.
Layla.
Here.
Kneeling, waiting for my next command.
My fingers twitch in her hair, and when I run my hand to the back of her skull, she lets out a shaky breath.
That sound—the raspy, quiet, raw sound stirs something deep and primal inside me. Something I’ve tried to bury for years. I’ve been hard since she walked in, but my cock twitches once, heavy and thick as it presses against my pants.
“Let me, Master,” she says softly. Lifting her hands, she stops before she touches me. “May I?”
I bite the insides of my cheek to keep from groaning. To keep from the low purr that wants to escape my throat.
She’s asking for permission like the good little sub she is.
I can’t concentrate. I’ve never been this unfocused—this unwilling to take control. I am the one who sets the scene. I’m the one who tells her what to do. But the Dominant part of my brain is still shocked into silence at the sight of my stepsister kneeling in front of me, all while she knows it’s me.
I still can’t believe she didn’t walk right out that door.
“You may,” I tell her, my voice gravelly.
Her darkened hazel eyes look up at me through her thick lashes, and I can’t pull myself together enough to take control.
I can’t take my eyes off her—I can hardly breathe.
As one of her hands comes to my belt buckle, I feel something I’ve never felt before—an overwhelming desire to allow her some power.
She’s placed her trust in me, and that thought makes my chest tighten with something beyond desire.
I can’t fathom how she can so easily trust me when I betrayed her so completely. When I pretended to be someone else. When I messed with her head. But here she is—willing to be vulnerable with me.
I’m powerless against it. Against her. I don’t even want to resist. There’s something so intoxicating about surrendering to her.
I’ve never felt more alive, more out of control, more completely hers.
The clinking of my belt buckle sounds through the room, and she pulls me closer unconsciously by lacing the leather through the buckle.
With deft fingers, she pulls the belt out from around my waist, letting it drop heavily onto the wooden floor. A determined expression on her pretty face looks up at me as she unbuttons my pants and then slowly drags the zipper down.
I should say something—move, pull her closer, anything ?—
In one swift movement, she pulls everything down, and my cock springs free.
It’s not like she hasn’t seen it. I’m pretty sure she memorized that dirty picture I sent her. And then there was the shower earlier.
Still, this is the first time she’s seen my cock this up close as me. As her stepbrother.
As her Dominant.
That’s what I am to her now, isn’t it?
Though right now, I don’t feel very dominant. I feel like I’d give her anything as long as she never stopped touching my cock and looking at me like that.
Her eyes rake over me boldly like her heart is beating just as fast as mine.
And as she wraps one of her small hands around my aching shaft, my eyes roll into the back of my head.
“F-fuck.” I bite my tongue to keep from groaning and seeming over eager. “Layla,” I rasp.
Her thumb swipes over the drop of precum gathering along my slit, and then she does something unthinkable.
Something that practically has me coming instantly.
She brings her thumb to her mouth and sucks my precum off.
I couldn’t look away even if aliens invaded the room.
“Do it again,” I tell her.
She removes her thumb from her mouth and swirls it around my slit, gathering a string of precum.
“Oh shit,” I mutter, my voice breaking as her tongue darts out and licks the head of my cock.
“Again, Master?”
“Y-yes.”
Her head bobs forward, and just as her lips close around my aching length, one of her hands gently squeezes my balls.
A low, heady groan escapes my throat, and I close my eyes as pure, blinding pleasure shoots through me.
I’m not sure what kind of head I expected Layla to give me, but as she strokes one hand up and down my shaft, her other hand playing with my balls, and her tongue flattening against the taut head of my dick… it wasn’t this.
Everything she’s doing feels euphoric, and I’m not sure if it’s because of who’s doing it or what she’s doing with such expertise.
“Guess those dirty books paid off,” I mutter, reaching my other hand out to grab onto her head with both hands.
“I guess so,” she says, her words garbled because her mouth is full of me.
“You’re so perfect,” I tell her, guiding her mouth deeper onto my cock. “You like having your stepbrother’s cock in your mouth?”
“Yes,” she says, words muffled.
“You want everyone to think you’re so innocent, but you’re not, are you?”
She moans, looking up at me with doe eyes.
“Fuck, Layla, when you look at me like that, it makes me want to spill all of my cum down your throat.”
She pulls off my cock with a soft pop. “So do it.”
“Color?” I ask.
“Green.” She gives me a bratty, little smile before her lips are back on my shaft.
I grip her hair and pull her onto my cock with a little bit more force.
“We never established a nonverbal safe word, so if you need me to stop, tap on my thigh three times, okay?”
“Okay, Master,” she says, mouth full of cock.
Fuuuuuck.
The warm, wet feeling of her mouth on me, her soft hands squeezing my balls gently, the slippery firmness of her tongue against the tip of my cock…
My balls start to tighten as Layla works me closer and closer to a climax.
I pull her farther down my cock, and her hands drop away so that it’s just her mouth, and as I slowly slide her all the way over my length, she doesn’t gag or attempt to pull away.
A low, guttural sound reverberates through my chest as she deepthroats me, as her mouth swallows me and sucks me farther into the back of her throat.
Instinctively, I start to fuck her throat, the sound making me hiss with pleasure. Her eyes are watery when she looks up at me, but resolute and single-minded.
“I know I told you that I’d make a mess of your pretty face one day,” I tell her, my lips pulling away from my teeth as I jut my hips forward into her mouth farther, “But I think I’d rather come down your throat so a part of me can stay inside two places of you.”
Her brow comes together in confusion, and I can’t help but chuckle as my swollen cock pumps as far as I can go.
“Did you think we’d be done after this?”
Her head nods slightly, causing her teeth to graze the underside of my shaft. I wish I could say it deters my impending orgasm, but the sharpness only causes me to moan and fist her hair harder as my lashes flutter.
“God, you’re so fucking good at this.”
“I’ve had practice,” she hums against my shaft, and I instantly pull my hips back so that I pop out of her mouth.
“With whom.”
It’s not a question—not at all.
It’s a demand.
“Kidding,” she says sweetly, looking up at me with those hooded hazel eyes as one of her hands continues to pump me. “But you should see your face right now.”
I grind my jaw as one of my hands trails down the side of her face.
“You think it’s funny to make me imagine your mouth around another man’s cock? You think I’d find that amusing?” She rolls her eyes, and my hand stills. “Roll your eyes again and I’ll edge you for days before you’re allowed to come.”
Funny how the thought of another man’s cock brings the Dominant right back up to the surface…
“You wouldn’t,” she says, trailing her tongue along my shaft, tip to root and back up again.
Fisting her hair, I yank her neck back so that she has no option but to look me dead in the eye as I deliver my next line.
“I can, and I will. Don’t think I won’t. And don’t mistake my reverence for weakness. I may have wanted you for years, but I still expect respect while we’re doing a scene.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Yes, Master.”
“Good girl. Now open wide.” Her mouth drops open, and she lays her tongue flat— waiting . I can’t help it. A heady groan leaves my lips as I thrust my hips forward, impaling her mouth with my pulsing shaft. Chills run through my body, and I have to close my eyes for a second to gather myself when she hollows her cheeks. “That’s it. You suck my cock so well, pretty girl.”
She stops moving, and I realize my mistake a second too late.
Fucking Earl.
Layla heard him earlier.
She pulls off my cock. “I guess that means your bird likes me,” she mutters before continuing the world’s best blow job.
“I like you, so naturally, he does, too.”
Her eyes flash with something triumphant.
I could watch her here like this all day, every day.
She takes every secret and runs with it—first with Starboy, and now with Earl. Like nothing surprises her.
I keep expecting to say or do something to spook her.
But maybe it’s time to lay it all out for her.
Maybe it’s time to see if she’s all in.
“And just for the record, I was watching you that night at The Angry Squirrel. I followed you from your performance.”
She looks up at me, but she doesn’t seem surprised. Instead, her free hand comes back to cup my swollen, aching balls.
“F-fuck,” I stutter, rocking into her mouth. “That feels?—”
I lose my train of thought when she sucks—actually sucks me into the back of her throat before running her tongue along the underside of my shaft and coming up for air.
“Jesus, Layla.”
“You were saying, Master?” she asks, tilting her head innocently. “I believe you were in the middle of confessing all of your sins,” she adds, stroking me with her hand.
I chuckle. “Just making sure you realize the depth of my obsession, sis .”
She smirks before opening her mouth and waiting for me to drive between her perfect, pink lips.
“Tell me everything, Master. Please.”
I jerk forward and fuck her mouth roughly, over and over and over until her eyes are watering.
“I’ve been to every single ballet performance. I bought fake pheromones for Sparrow so he’d feel at home in my apartment. When I first saw that you messaged me, I nearly had a heart attack. It was so fucking—fuck,” I hiss as Layla gently bites down on my shaft. Her brow is creased as she looks up at me, and then she pulls off with a pop.
“Keep going, Master.”
“Why’d you use your teeth?” I grit out.
She dots my shaft with kisses. “Because I never said I’d be happy about all of this,” she says honestly. “And maybe you need a little punishment, too.”
Fuck.
I never considered myself a masochist. Sadism is all I know—all I want to know. Same with being a Dominant. Having someone put their trust in me completely, experiencing something so intimate with another person… it’s addicting. Corrupting.
But with Layla? I’d hand over everything I am on a platter if I knew she was the one doling it out.
She takes me back into her mouth.
“Clever,” I mutter. “I’m the one you bought your house from.”
This makes her pause, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are wide. She doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“You were looking for houses. I saw this one and bought it, thinking you’d like being close to your?—”
I can’t say Scott’s name while we’re doing this.
“Anyway, I listed it immediately for a little lower than I bought it for, and I had my guys fix it up. I didn’t entertain any offers. It was always yours.”
She pulls off me, looking perplexed. “Why didn’t you just buy it for me outright?”
“Would you have taken it? I knew you’d never accept charity, so I had to get creative.”
Her eyes glisten with emotion.
“Keep going,” I tell her, running a hand down the back of her skull. “I’m close.”
She moves back onto my cock, and I groan.
“My username. Did you ever notice the year?”
Again, she goes still—just now realizing how deep this fixation goes.
“My birth year,” she whispers after pulling off. Her hands drop to her sides.
“Keep. Going,” I say gently, grabbing her chin. “I want you to taste me. I want you to swallow every drop of my cum. Do you understand?” My voice isn’t hard, but her spine stiffens obediently.
Submissives don’t take kindly to being yelled at, and respect goes both ways.
She does as I ask, and a bolt of electricity rushes through me when she begins working my balls again and sucking me down into the back of her throat.
My eyes roll back as I begin to unconsciously rut into her mouth.
“My tattoo isn’t for my mom. It’s for you. I have peonies around my house because they remind me of you. I send flowers before every performance. The day you got stung by a bee when you were sixteen and went into anaphylaxis was the scariest fucking day of my life. I listen to all of the music playlists you make, and all of my videos use the classical works I know you listen to a lot. I—fuck,” I groan, feeling my balls tighten as the base of my spine begins to tingle. “I’m really fucking close.”
“Tell me more,” Layla says, words muffled.
“Fuck, I?—”
She bites—gently.
I hiss and fist her hair as I begin to pump into her mouth in earnest.
“You have no idea how completely?—”
I groan, throwing my head back.
“How fucking completely you have me wrapped around your finger, Layla. You could want to slit my throat, and I’d happily hand you the knife because you’d be the one doing it—God— fuck ? —”
Layla moans as I fuck between her lips, my hips jerking unevenly. I see stars when she swallows her saliva, when her throat tightly squeezes me down farther.
She’s going to suck my soul out.
Her fingers continue to play with my balls, and I’m suddenly on the brink of coming. Every muscle is tensed, every pleasure receptor pulling taut in anticipation of exploding inside her mouth.
“I’m going to come,” I tell her, my voice hoarse. “Swallow every drop?—”
I shatter, and my knees nearly give out as my orgasm rocks through me. Layla whimpers as my cock pulses into the back of her throat. I’m gripping her hair for dear life, rocking my hips as waves of pleasure flow through me. She sucks and swallows everything with each spurt, extending my orgasm. My fingernails dig into her scalp as I hiss and moan, and my mouth drops open when her tongue slides along the base of my shaft.
Like she’s not wasting a single fucking drop.
My whole body convulses a couple of times and then Layla pulls off with one more long, audible swallow.
“I have questions,” she says slowly, placing her palms flat and face down on her thighs.
“Give me a minute,” I say, running a hand over my face. My whole body feels like it was just electrocuted, and everything tingles, like I’m about to black out. Quickly tucking myself away, I hold a hand out to help her up. “Color?”
“Green,” she says as she takes my hand. I help her into a standing position, grab her purse, and then I pull her behind me toward the desk.
“How did you feel about the scene?” I ask tentatively. “Where’s your head, Little Dancer?”
She gives me a long, contemplative look. “I feel good. I enjoyed it.”
“It wasn’t too much? Be honest with me.”
Her expression darkens, and one corner of her mouth tilts up. “It wasn’t too much. I can take it.”
She’s going to cause me to spontaneously combust.
“Turn around,” I order, and she does as I say. I drop to my knees and lift her dress, checking her over physically. She lets out a tiny gasp when I run a finger over one of the welted Rs. I’m filled with primal satisfaction at the thought of branding her as mine, of finally being able to use the paddle I bought for us. “Do you need anything? Maybe some soothing balm, or ice?”
“No, I’m okay,” she says softly. I drop her dress and stand, taking her hand. “Where are we going?”
I don’t release her as I pick the mask up and place it in the back pocket of my pants. “Back to my place. Don’t forget your shoes.”
“What—we’re leaving?” she asks, bending down to grab her shoes. Once she has them, I tug her out the back door and through the discreet hallway. “I thought we would stay and?—”
I stop walking and press her against the wall. It’s dark—meant only for performers and employees to come and go without having to walk back through the club after a scene. I built it to connect to all of the private rooms.
“The first time I see you come will be in my bed.”