Chapter 3
3
BIRDIE
I t’s past midnight when I hear Violet creeping down the hall. She always waits until the house is dark before she comes crawling into my bed, but tonight, she’s later than normal.
“Where were you?” I whisper as she silently closes my door.
She doesn’t answer as she tiptoes across the room. I pull back the covers, allowing her to climb into my bed next to me. Once she’s settled, I ask again.
“Violet…where did you go?”
I hear her swallow. “I went to see Alaric Stone.”
My mind swirls at the mention of that name. Violet has seen him before. It was just last year that she would go to his house, staying until the early morning hours. I know they’ve slept together, and it makes me sick to think about it.
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because if anyone’s likely to help us this weekend, I was hoping it was him,” she answers. I can barely make out her warm green eyes in the darkness of my room, lit only by the moonlight cascading through the windows.
“Help us how?” I ask, wary of what the answer might entail.
She takes a deep breath. Then I feel her hand as it strokes my long blonde hair. Normally, I welcome her comforting touch, but tonight, I’m afraid she’s doing it to settle my worries when all I really want are answers.
“Vi,” I say in a colder tone.
Immediately, she speaks. “I thought if he could win you at the auction, it would be our chance to run away together.”
My mouth goes dry. “He and I wouldn’t have to…”
“No,” she answers quickly. “It would be a front. After the auction, you’d go live with him, and from there, you and I would be free.”
I can’t keep my hand from her waist now. Just the thought of being with Violet forever has me feeling bold and needy.
“Just you and me,” I say, repeating her words.
She brushes my hair from my face, curling it behind my ear. “Always,” she whispers.
I tug her closer, and I hear her breath escape with a quiet gasp.
“Birdie.”
“Yeah?” I reply softly.
“I want you.”
The next sound from my mouth is a whimper because I’ve never heard three better words in my entire life. She wants me. It reminds me of the first night she crept into my bed—the first time she touched me. The thrill of that night and the way it awoke something electric and consuming inside me lives with me forever now.
“I want you, too,” I say as my hand tightens on her waist.
Slowly, her face inches closer, and when her lips finally touch mine, I stop breathing. They are soft and gentle as they part, delicately sucking on my lower lip.
My mouth opens wider, and Violet deepens the kiss, licking her way into my mouth and tangling her tongue with mine. I slide my hand up her waist and tug her lightly toward me. She takes that as her cue to roll on top of me.
I let her take control as she kisses me and gently grinds her body against mine. I’m lost in her touch. Not a single thought enters my mind, only sensations—like the way she feels in my arms and on my body.
“God, Birdie, you feel so good,” she whispers against my mouth as she trails down my jaw to my neck, and I let out another whimper when she sucks on the tender skin there. Everything feels multiplied by a million. Every touch. Every kiss. Every breath. It’s infinite and ethereal.
And I never want it to end.
My heart is hammering in my chest, and moisture pools between my legs. As her hand travels down my body, she first stops at my breast, squeezing it gently in her palm. It sends a bolt of lightning to my core.
“Does that feel good?” she whispers as she hovers above me.
Nervously, I nod. “It feels so good,” I whisper.
She kisses me again as she pinches my nipple, making me hum against her lips. When her hand leaves my breast and travels lower, my body erupts in shivers and goosebumps.
Violet is the more dominant one in our relationship. I constantly feel as if I’m just waiting for her to take the lead, to tell me what to do, or to make me feel good. I want nothing more than to be the one to initiate. Hell, I’d love to be the one to ravish her, but something is always holding me back. Maybe it’s fear or nerves or insecurity. I just keep telling myself that one of these days I will get over it and show her just how much she means to me.
Softly her fingers dance over my belly, lifting my shirt to touch my stomach. Then she looks into my eyes as she inches her fingers along the thin waistline of my panties.
“Is this okay?” she whispers.
I gasp as her fingers slip under the cotton. My hands are holding her tightly at the waist as I nod again. “Yes.”
“Good,” she replies as she slides them lower. When I feel her fingers brush the patch of hair above my clit, I shudder.
My hands tighten their grip on her waist. Staring into my eyes, she applies pressure to that sensitive spot, almost as if she wants to watch the look on my face when she makes me feel good.
“Is this mine?” she whispers, pressing harder on the nerves that light my entire body up.
I nod. “Yes.”
Her finger slips lower, leaving my clit and gliding across the pooling moisture. “Tell me it’s mine,” she says.
She’s hovering there, and I can hardly breathe. I nod again as I cling to her for dear life. “It’s yours. My body is yours.”
When she eases her finger inside me, I gasp loudly.
“Shhhhh…” she warns, sliding her finger out and then back in.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice strained as I struggle to keep my moans in check. Her finger fills me, hitting a spot inside me that makes me feel euphoric and needy for more at the same time. With one finger, Violet can drive me wild, making me feral for her.
“You are so tight. Does this hurt?”
I shake my head. “Feels…good,” I croak, letting my head hang back.
“You’re so fucking wet,” she replies. After pulling her finger out, she uses the moisture to stroke my clit again. The warmth and wetness create a perfect combination that makes me feel so filthy and horny. My hips start moving, grinding against her hand as I chase the release I need.
“What do you think about when you touch yourself?” she asks with her mouth against my cheek. She’s still massaging my clit, going back and forth from fingering me to covering that sensitive spot in my arousal. “Do you think about your stepsister fingering you in your bed?”
“Yes,” I cry out in a needy whisper.
“Yeah? Do you think about your stepsister licking your little pussy?”
“Yes,” I say again. My body is on fire, and the need growing between my legs is now painful.
“Do you want me to make you come, little sister?”
I let out a groan as I bury my hand in her shoulder-length brown hair. “Yes, please,” I beg.
Her finger slips back inside me and pulses while her palm rubs hard against my clit. Reaching down, I grip her wrist to hold her there.
This feels so dirty and wrong, but I love it. Violet with her hand down my panties, stroking me in secret while calling me her little sister. What is wrong with me, and why do I find this so hot?
“You’re so beautiful,” Violet whispers against my neck. “Do you have any idea how much I love touching you? All day it’s all I can think about. And God, Birdie. You are so, so tight.”
I let out a gasp as the pressure builds. Violet grinds her palm harder as I hold on to her wrist. Finally, pleasure explodes throughout my body, and I seize up as the orgasm takes over. Clutching tight to her body, I silently ride out the rapture as it hits me with intensity at first, then slowly starts to fade.
“That’s my girl,” she purrs. “Come on my hand.”
“Don’t stop.” I groan silently, wringing every ounce of sensation out of this climax. All too soon, it comes to an end, and I’m left panting in post-orgasm bliss with my eyes still clenched tightly and my heart thumping wildly in my chest.
“Jesus, that was beautiful.” She moans against my ear.
My breathing is loud as my body starts to come back down. My pulse is still thrumming loudly in my ears as my limbs fall lazily at my sides.
“That was the best orgasm of my life,” I whisper, making Violet chuckle.
“You say that every time. After we’re free of this house, I will gladly give you one every day of your life.” Her voice is low and sultry as she peppers my face and neck with kisses.
The thought of this weekend makes my heart stutter in my chest. “Are you sure Alaric will really go through with it?” I ask.
She hesitates. “If he doesn’t, then I’ll smuggle you out of there myself.”
I wrap my legs around her hips and my arms around her waist. “But he said he would?” I say, framing it like a desperate question.
Her jaw clicks as her molars grind. “He said he would think about it.”
With that, my heart drops, and my blood runs cold. “Violet,” I whisper in a panic. “What am I gonna do if he doesn’t?”
She frames my face with both her hands and puts hers close to mine. “You’re not going to worry because I’ve got you. You are mine , Birdie Windsor. And if I have to burn that mansion to the ground this weekend, I swear I’ll do it. This is not just some fling to me. You are my forever. Do you understand?”
Tears prick my eyes as I stare at her. My next breath shatters into a sob. I nod obediently as I pull her close. Her head falls to my neck as she holds me back. The two of us stay in that embrace until I fall asleep, replaying her words in my head over and over.
I am hers forever.
And she is mine.