8. Bastian
8
Bastian
I grin wickedly, glancing up at Dorian, catching his smirk. We both hear her breathy gasp as I gather up our salty cum, sensually moving my tongue along Dorian’s muscles. Only a few seconds later, we hear her footsteps rushing off with a panicked yelp. I rip my head from Dorian’s grasp; the fucker took full advantage of our audience to boss me around.
He opens his mouth to say something, and I use that opportunity to grip his cheeks, spitting the cum on my tongue straight into his mouth. If I have to taste us together, so does he.
“Next time, you can be the one on your knees like a little bitch. Instead of consuming my cum, I’ll force my dick down your throat until you choke on it.”
We played a game of slash, stab, or spear to see who would be getting on their knees. We both select a weapon, and the first to draw blood wins. Unfortunately for me, I lost. The bastard got me in the back of the neck with a small dagger, a weapon he didn’t select. He picked the butcher knife knowing that it was my favourite and I would be pinning over it while he used it. He took advantage of my obsession with the pretty weapon and cheated. But the fucker did draw blood, and he had the dagger on him before he started, so I suppose it was fair.
The taste of us together doesn’t bother me that much. It’s not like I haven’t tasted my own cum before. It was a first tasting Dorian’s, although it wasn’t much different, possibly a little muskier. Still, it got us where we needed to be, pushing us a step closer to our end goal. Little sister has had a pure taste of forbidden sin, saw our depraved souls in action. She’s seen us kill before, but she needed more.
Dorian stands, gripping my wrist, removing my hand from his cheeks. His eyes stay locked with mine, holding his tongue out, letting me see the creamy whiteness before slowly pulling back and swallowing.
Fuck… Okay, that was hot. I see what baby sis sees in us: we’re temptation wrapped up in a poison-laced bow.
“Next time, win the game, and you’ll get your wish, little brother.” He smirks, patting me on the cheek, walking naked into our bedroom.
My gaze slides to the other door, the one to her room still left open a crack. I bet she’s laying in bed touching herself. I bet if I went in there right now, her legs would fall open eagerly, her pussy begging me to sink deep inside, desperate for me to fuck her until she’s screaming my name. I would consume her until all she could see is me.
“Bastian,” Dorian calls, and I hear the order in his tone.
I pull my eyes reluctantly from her door, narrowing mine at him as he raises an eyebrow. Huffing in annoyance, I stomp into the room, barging my shoulder into his and aggressively digging out some clothes.
Dorian gives a hum of approval, shutting the door, sliding over the lock before he gets dressed. I've never been bothered about him being in charge; he possesses the right temperament for it. I got all our aggression, and he got all our patience. Together, we make a great team. If you took away one of us, it would fall apart. We cover each other’s weaknesses, and leadership has never been my strength. Still, I’m getting a bit fed up with all this waiting. When it comes to her, we’re equal. When it comes to her, I would kill my twin if he thought he could place me second.
I growl, kicking the drawer closed with my booted foot, burning frustration running through me. I need to either fuck or kill something, and seeing as I can’t fuck anything at the moment, I suppose I’ll have to settle for killing.
Dorian grabs my shoulder, holding me in place as I try to storm out of the room. I have a knife held up to his throat in a blink of an eye, pushing it deep until blood trickles against the black metal. Dorian sighs, but he doesn’t let go of my arm or pull away from the knife.
“Tonight,” he says, one singular word, but it has my anger disappearing in a second.
“Tonight?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, pushing the knife a little harder.
“Yes, brother. Tonight.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, making more blood flow freely. “I believe our show has given her another push into our darkness.”
Dark, electric energy buzzes through my veins, thundering electricity lighting me up from the inside. Tonight, it will finally happen: I will get to have her beneath me as I feed the ravaged demon that’s been clawing for a taste of her flesh. She has always been mine, and tonight, she will finally realise it.
“Go kill something before you end up fucking everything in sight.” Dorian chuckles, staring into my bloodthirsty eyes and down to my waist, where my dick is rock hard.
I flick my knife away, grabbing my brother on the cheeks, smacking a wet kiss on his lips. “You handsome fucker. Sometimes it’s hard to remember why I shouldn’t kill you, and just when I think to do it, you remind me why I shouldn’t.” I wink, slapping him on the ass, cackling while he scowls.
“I share the sentiment, brother, but right now, I’m more inclined to kill you for that slap.”
I lick his blood off the knife, skipping away, poking my tongue out over my shoulder. I slam into a butler in the hallway, making him drop a tray of food. His startled, wide eyes tell me someone was listening when they shouldn’t be.
“Ooh, someone has been naughty!” My unhinged smile widens, and the butler stumbles away, falling back onto the wall.
“Please, sir.” He holds up his hands, crouching into a ball.
Bad luck for him but fantastic for me. I thought I was going to have to make the trek all the way down to the dungeons and select one of the many people there to kill. Sometimes having them all there just gives me too much choice.
Should I slaughter the man who assisted in hiding where Octavia was taken? Do I torture Octavia’s old nanny who used to scowled her when she wanted to spend all her time with us, saying it wasn’t right? Or do I burn the staff members who used to tattle on her to Father?
It makes me feel like a child in a weapon shop; how am I supposed to choose just one? But now, I don’t have to, all because this lovely butler has made the choice easy.
“Oh, Jeeves. I’m sorry to say today is going to be your last day here. Time to meet your demons.”
I launch at him, grabbing his hair, dragging him down the hall. He kicks and screams, begging for mercy, but there is no mercy in the manor of sin. I cackle madly, slamming him into the wall as we go.
He cries all the way down to the dungeon; it would have been much more preferable if he screamed. I like it when they scream. I’m not a fan of tears, especially when they choke on their own snot and it bubbles out of their nose. Ugh, turns my fucking stomach.
The chains rattle as I secure them around Alfred’s wrist, and he doesn’t even fight it, already accepting what’s happening, his head hanging onto his chest.
“Way to take all the fun out of it, Barnaby,” I snap, slamming my knife into his thigh.
He cries again, whimpering like a little bitch, and I tut, rolling my eyes, tilting my head, pointing a thumb towards the other guy. “Fucking buzzkill. Am I right, Chad?”
Chad doesn’t answer; instead, he hangs there limply, rats nibbling at his toes. I only painted them yesterday, goddamn it. Pink for Octavia, as it’s her favourite colour. I’ve been practising painting fingers and toes so I’ll be perfect when she wants her nails done. She won’t need to go to a salon and have a stranger touch her. No, I’ll do it. I’ve been getting fantastic—lots of people to practise on down here.
“Oh, my God. Oh my God,” Jarvis mumbles, vomit flying out of his mouth, soaking down his shirt. “He’s dead. Aaron is dead.”
Huh, that’s his name. Definitely looks more like a Chad or a Brad.
“I ran out of dead bodies to practise my nail art on,” I say defensively, grabbing the knife out of his leg and slamming it into his stomach when he carries on staring at me like I’m crazy.
“It’s all for her, you know? I need to be everything I can for her. She gives us so much peace; she understands us. I need to make sure I’m perfect for her.” My voice drops to a whisper, and I go into the corner, grabbing the nail kitt and bring over a chair and a stool.
“Stay still,” I mutter, placing Smithers’ feet on the stool, taking off his sock and shoes.
He pleas for something, trying to make conversation, but I grab a nail file, jamming it into his leg until he shuts up and I can tune him out. Today, I want to paint a daisy on the big toe like I saw on the video online.
I’ve bought every colour nail polish you can imagine for my pretty girl. Until she reached sixteen, Father restricted her to using only clear polish or French-tip, and after that, it was only red. Octavia hates the colour red—always has, probably from seeing too much blood as a kid.
I protected her from seeing it as much as I could, more than Dorian. She was my princess, something soft and sweet, much too kind for this life. I didn’t want the bloodline to do to her what it did to us. From the day we took our first breath, Dorian and I have been ruined, our souls stained. She deserved more.
“I tried the whole dating game once. Went out on my own, attended balls without my brother, let our father introduce me to prospecting partners, but all I felt was an empty void with each one.”
He grunts, a whimper escaping, and I know he’s fascinated by my tale.
“I know it’s hard to believe I wanted someone else, was willing to leave my twin, but I was. There was this hollow hole inside me searching for something. I just wanted to be loved, to be needed, but no one was ever a match. They would get jealous over Dorian or moan if I cancelled plans because Octavia needed me. They didn’t get that they would never come first compared to them.”
I slip some tissue between his toes, gently blowing on the nail-varnish so it dries. Igor sobs, shaking his head, and I completely get him. This colour does not go with his skin tone, but this isn’t about him.
“No matter who I dated, who I found underneath me, they didn’t fill the emptiness. Only they have ever filled it so thoroughly, and it wasn’t until I stopped fighting it that I realised I never needed anyone else. I was complete with them, and they will always be more than enough.”
I grin, looking at his wiggling toes. The flowers look perfect. She is going to love them!
“Let me tell you a secret,” I whisper, jumping up and pulling him closer. “I love them, fully love them with my entire being. We’re not supposed to love. It’s a weakness the bloodline doesn’t tolerate, but them and especially her, I love with a power that feels like it’s about to burst from within.”
He’s speechless, totally speechless, staring at me wide eyed with his mouth hanging open. I hope Octavia doesn’t have this same reaction when I tell her, because I do plan to tell her.
“Say something then. Do you think she won’t enjoy hearing me tell her?” I snap, slapping him round the face.
A disgusting snot bubble blows from his nose, making my stomach turn. He stutters, pleading like a blubbering idiot, totally ignoring my question.
“Oh, forget it. I’ll ask someone else. You’ve already smudged your toes.”
I grab the nail file out of his leg and stick it straight into his throat and through his windpipe. Guess I’ll be selecting one from the body dungeon after all.