9. Molly
Ithought things were over as I sucked on Atticus’ fingers. He’d just given me the most intense orgasm of my life, despite the degrading way he talked to me the whole time.
Or maybe it was because of the degrading talk.
I was proud, and normally I demanded respect. But right now, fucking tied up against my will, I was his to do with as he pleased. I was his fuck toy, and I loved it so much that I was shocked.
Stepping back, Atticus got undressed. I told myself to look away, that it was wrong to enjoy seeing his naked body again, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Smooth skin stretched over taut muscle. And his cock.
It was beautiful.
Thick and veiny, and hard as a rock for me. I watched as a drop of precum appeared at the tip.
God, I could hardly breathe looking at him naked. Everything inside of me clenched, and I pulled at ropes around my wrists again. This time, I wasn’t trying to get away. I wanted my hands free so that I could touch him.
I couldn’t even think clearly right now. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t stand Atticus or that he was my brother. All I knew right now was that a fire had been ignited inside of me, burning wild and consuming me in a haze of lust.
I didn’t have time to say a word before he released my legs from the stirrups. I was pulled up onto my feet by his hands on my bound wrists. Atticus’ mouth came down over mine, kissing me hard with his tongue thrust into my mouth. He groaned, the sound deep and desperate.
I was caught off guard as he spun me around and shoved me into the chair with a strong force. I could feel the hard edge of the seat digging into my chest, my arms restrained in front of me. Suddenly, my underwear was yanked down and my skirt flipped up, exposing my bare skin. With a heavy hand on my thighs, he spread them apart as much as possible while I struggled against his grip. Leaning in close, his hot breath tickled my ear as he whispered.
“That cucumber was a walk in the park, sis. Trust me.”
With that, he lined himself up at my entrance and nipped my earlobe just before he straightened, holding my hips in a bruising grip. He drove himself forward with a rough motion, drawing a loud cry of pleasure and pain from my lips. God, he was big. Bigger than any other guy I’d ever been with. Despite his use of three fingers inside of me, I was stretched on his cock in a way that caused a stinging pain, but the pleasure of being filled so thoroughly overrode any discomfort, even as he took me so hard that I could barely catch my breath.
He was an animal, fucking me with a speed that made the chair skid across the floor. My heart raced, and I arched my back, giving him a better angle to go deeper.
The ponytail was pulled out, sending my hair tumbling down my back. Atticus grabbed it, pulling until my head snapped back. He was controlling every inch of my body, taking what he wanted as I moaned and thrashed against him, unable to control my reactions to the electric pulses of need that each thrust drove into me. Then his other hand closed around my throat. Panic had me struggling against him, but it was pointless. His grip tightened just enough to make breathing difficult, and I got lightheaded. Black spots appeared in my vision, and just when my eyelids started to droop, he loosened his hold. Air rushed into my lungs, and I had the most unexpected rush of euphoria. It was wicked and perfect and I was suddenly right there, ready to break apart in a million pieces.
I succumbed to the pleasure, forgetting that this was my brother and that I should not want this. Nothing mattered except the ecstasy that welled up inside of me, and I was screaming his name as my second orgasm crested. The slap of our bodies together was the only other sound reverberating in the room.
My body shook as I came, bursts of color behind my closed eyelids. My pussy tightened around him, and Atticus roared while his release coated my insides. I was marked on the inside and out, his rough treatment of my body sure to leave bruises and his come buried deep inside.
Overwhelming emotion flooded me, too much to comprehend as I came down from the high of my climax. I wanted to just collapse against this strange, padded chair, but Atticus was still gripping my hair, and he pulled harder, until my back and neck were bent at an awkward angle, and I was looking up into his face as he towered over me, still buried to the hilt in my abused pussy. My mouth was open as I tried to catch my breath, and Atticus shocked me by spitting into it, bringing his free hand to my chin to close my mouth as his eyes gazed into mine. I could see madness swirling in his dark orbs, and fear ran down my spine, but it also exhilarated me. I felt like I was learning shocking truths about myself the longer this went on, and I barely recognized myself.
“I fuck pretty good for a nerd, huh?” he said, his deep voice hardly more than a rough rasp over my frayed nerves. “And you? You’re just a filthy, brother-fucking slut.”
I couldn’t even respond. I was busy trying to wrap my head around how the hell this happened. I came here for my phone, and somehow…I fucked my brother.
Well, he fucked me. I didn’t exactly initiate this.
But you enjoyed it. I couldn’t deny that truth, whispered by a small, wicked voice in the back of my mind. I more than enjoyed it. I felt ruined by what had just happened, as if I might never find this kind of pleasure again. At least, not with anyone else.
Atticus pulled out of me, and I felt a rush of liquid from between my legs. Embarrassment heated my cheeks, but he chuckled.
“Look at the mess we made together,” he said, and the satisfaction in his voice made my head buzz. This couldn’t be real. “I’m going to shower. Stick around.”
Just before walking away, he pulled out a knife and cut the rope from around my wrists. I stood, smoothing down my skirt as I rubbed my wrists. There were bruises on my wrists from the rope, but I found I liked them. There was something crude about having this reminder on my skin, and I hoped they didn’t fade for a couple of days.
I heard the shower turn on in the other room, and everything suddenly felt surreal. I looked around the cabin, and it was obviously a rental. The art on the walls had the same general style that you’d find in a hotel. The furniture was clean, but worn down in places, and the walls were a plain beige color. There wasn’t much here that was personal to Atticus.
I couldn’t find my panties, so I assumed Atticus took them. I had the vague thought that I should be bothered by something like that, but after everything that had happened in the last hour, how could I allow myself to get worked up over some underwear?
My God. I was just fucked by my brother.
Moving into the living room, I sat on the couch, my mind reeling. I couldn’t pin down how I felt about Atticus at this moment, but I knew I liked what he did to my body. I wasn’t a virgin, but I’d never felt anything like what I experienced with Atticus. He’d dominated me in a way that none of the jocks I was usually drawn to had ever done. He ruled my body and mind, and I was already craving more.
Reaching down between my legs, I brushed my fingers over my pussy. I was a mess between my legs, but all of that wetness didn’t keep me from feeling sore. I was tender from what he’d done to me, but I shuddered at my touch. My nerves were on fire, and I could feel an ache already starting up again, deep inside.