24. Bastian
24
Bastian
T he silence is driving me crazy. I’m itching under my skin, desperate to break it, but every time I open my mouth, Dorian shoots me a scolding frown, shaking his head. This all his stupid fault; he didn’t need to mention that Ghost was Octavia’s bio daddy. He just can’t help himself; he needs them to know how much he fucked them. Except this time, he’s fucked us both in the process.
Octavia opens our bedroom door, kicking off her shoes and unzipping her dress, letting it pool onto the floor. My mouth waters at the sight of her pale skin shimmering in the light, our marks all over her skin, a white corset clinging to her body with sexy as fuck lace booty shorts that show off the bottom half of her plump ass. Goddamn, I want to take a bite out of it.
She walks over to my bedside cabinet, rifling through my drawers, hunting for something. I glance at Dorian, and neither of us seems to know what’s going on. I expected anger, bloodshed, maybe a few tears. I could handle that; I would know what to do with that. Let her stab and hit the fuck out of me. I’d sit there and take it until she exerted herself, and then I’d bend her over, sinking my dick into her dripping wet pussy, making her scream as she couldn’t stop coming around my cock.
This silence is weird. I don’t like it.
“Gotcha,” she mutters, finding whatever it was she was looking for.
She rushes towards us with a knife, and I let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she’ll get her anger out. I push Dorian forward, sacrificing him to the worst of the violence. I want the horny rage, not the actual murder.
He braces himself, waiting for her to plunge it into his flesh, not trying to stop or block it, knowing he deserves it. But instead of stabbing him, she flips the knife around in her hand, giving him the handle.
“Angel?” he questions, his forehead pinched together.
“You're supposed to stab with the pointy end, pretty girl,” I say, giving her valuable instructions, even though I taught her that one when she was five years old.
She rolls her eyes, shaking her hand as she places the knife in Dorian’s hand. “I know what end to stab with, Bas, but I’m not the one doing the carving tonight.”
What is going on? She doesn’t want to kill us?
Dorian’s eyes flash, and his hand shakes as he takes it from her. I see the blood rushing through his body, turning his skin pink, the adrenaline and temptation of finally being able to do what he truly craves taking over his rational thinking.
For fuck's sake. I never have to be the damn rational one.
“Do you maybe want to talk about what happened, what you found out? I know you promised this to him, but Dorian will understand not doing it tonight, waiting until you’re ready.”
I smack him in the ribs when he says nothing, clutching the knife harder in his hand, so mesmerised that I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw actual stars in his eyes.
“Would you, brother?” I hiss.
He thankfully blinks out of his state, coming back into the room, shaking his head. “We don’t have to do this tonight, angel. Let’s talk about everything. I’m sorry for it coming out-”
She slaps her hand on his mouth, smothering the words.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to even think about it. We just survived Vincent Stone, we have permission to get married, and you have both told me you loved me.” Her voice cracks as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to think of anything except what we planned to do when we got back to this room.”
“You—” She points to me, crooking her finger, pulling me towards her on an invisible string as my feet move of their own accord. “You are going to get down on your knees and eat my pussy so fucking well, I’m in danger of passing out.”
“Yes fucking ma’am,” I growl, my dick hard as stone in seconds.
“And you.” She turns her head to Dorian, releasing her hand from his mouth. “You are going to select a piece of my body to carve your name into, and then the both of you are going to fuck me until I actually pass out. You are going to show me how much you fucking love me, how much you want me.”
“Yes, angel,” Dorian says softly, gazing into her eyes, checking that this is what she needs as I do the same.
I can’t see any doubt, any inclination that this isn’t what she wants, and as she stares right back at us, I can see a trickle of anger working in that we’re not doing anything.
“Now,” she barks, and I swear, I almost come.
I groan in pure fucking pleasure at her command, wanting her to take charge. Dorian moves, but I move quicker, scoping her up in my arms, rushing to our new bed. I chuck us both into it, diving on top of her, burying my face between her breasts. She softly giggles, running her hands through my hair, pushing my face deeper. Fuck, I would happily suffocate to death between these.
I drag my tongue over her bare flesh, and she arches into my touch, a sweet moan ripping from her lips.
“Knife,” I bark, holding out my hand.
Dorian drops it into my palm, and I trace the edge of the blade up Octavia’s side. She stills, letting me put pressure on it. The further down the knife goes, the higher I rise until I’m hovering over her on my knees, the knife at the bottom of her corset. The blade cuts through the fabric easily, the ripping sound like music to my ears.
As soon as her breasts are uncovered, I blindly chuck the knife back to Dorian, taking one of her nipples into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the hardening bud, giving the same attention to the other once I’m done. Her back arches more, throwing her head back, a beautiful whimper coming from her as I bite down until I taste blood.
“Always such a good girl for her big brothers,” Dorian says, standing by her head, running his fingers through her hair. “Do you know how much your brothers love you?”
I slowly kiss down her stomach, tracing patterns with my tongue, making sure I get every inch of her. She shakes her head no, gazing at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. He bends down, placing his nose on hers, getting that soft look he only gives her.
“You’re ours, Octavia. We want to consume you, to fucking devour you. There has never been anyone else for us. You own our hearts, our fucking souls. We are living and breathing monsters, but we are your monsters.”
She sucks in a deep breath, shaking at his words and our touch. I place myself between her legs, dragging my tongue slowly up her slit, tasting how fucking wet she is. “We are damned and damaged. There is no salvation for us, but there will never be anything or anyone more important to us than you. Be our shining light in a world of darkness, pretty girl.”
Dorian fists her hair, lifting her head so she can gaze at me. She nods slowly, licking her lips. “Always.”
I suck her clit between my lips, flicking the bundle of nerves with my tongue, watching her eyes roll to the back of her head, Dorian still fisting her hair. He captures her mouth, swallowing her moan, claiming her in a way that has me rubbing my dick on the bed. I fucking love it when he gets possessive of her, and it turns me on when he gets all possessive of me. The need to be wanted ignites a fire in my veins that will have me doing anything to get it.
Some people might resent the way they were brought up if they were in my shoes, and they wouldn’t be wrong to feel that way. It’s a fucked-up life, but I wouldn’t change a thing, because it got me them. I would live through it all again, take every beating, every moment I thought my life was about to end, every single action that turned me into the monster I am today, I would do it again and again if the results were me having her.
There has not been one moment in my life that I didn’t love her with so much obsession that I thought my heart would tear to shreds.
“That’s it, angel. Come on his face. Drowning him in your cum so I can lick it off and have a taste for myself,” Dorian husks.
Octavia whines, rolling her hips, thrusting against my mouth. I slip three fingers into her sweet pussy, curling them to catch the spot inside that makes her squirt, burying my face into her pussy, my nose brushing against her soft blonde curls. I flatten my tongue on her clit, pushing down hard, knowing she needs the pressure. She cries out, her hands flying to my head, holding me in place.
“You’re such a beautiful wreck for us; so broken, so shattered. We weren’t supposed to fit together, Octavia,” Dorian whispers, dragging the knife down her chest, circling her nipples. “We were never meant to be, but we claimed you the second you were born. We didn’t know then what you would be to us; we just knew that you belonged to us. So, we helped collect all the pieces they shattered and forged them into ones that would fit with ours. We melded ours to be what you needed. You fucking own us, Octavia Stone. Don’t you ever doubt that.”
She shudders at his words, goosebumps raising up on her skin. Dorian keeps dragging the knife down until he reaches the top of her thigh, humming in approval, selecting the spot for his name right next to my face.
He nicks the top of her thigh right by her groin, making a cut on my cheek at the same time. He leans down, running his tongue along the shallow cut, licking up the droplets of blood that bubble there. I feel his breath on my cheek as he keeps going, running his tongue up my cheek to lick the wound. I groan into Octavia’s pussy, sinking my face deeper, my cock throbbing.
His lips trace across my ear, a deep, dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Your blood tastes almost as sweet as hers, little brother. After I carve her, I’m going to put my fucking mark on you.”
I shudder at the possession in his tone, letting the twisted feelings I have for my twin roll through me. I don’t want him like I want her, but I want to feel owned, and these two are the only ones I will ever let own me.
Octavia pants, raising up on her arms, gazing down at us with her pupils blown. I smirk against her pussy, slowly pumping my fingers, dragging my tongue up and down her slit.
“Do you like that, pretty girl? Do you want our big brother to mark me as his, just like you?”
Her pouty mouth pops open, and she rolls her hips in time with my movements, nodding her head. “Yes,” she says, biting her bottom lip.
“Well,” I say, nipping at the flesh on her thigh where Dorian is going to mark her. “If that’s what my little sister wants, that’s what she gets. Always.”
Her eyes sparkle, the soft smile appearing that I fucking adore. “Thank you, big brother.”
I groan, sucking her clit back between my lips, carrying on with my mission to make her squirt all over my face. I fucking love it when she calls me that.
Dorian holds her thigh with one hand, and I help, clasping it tight, making sure she doesn’t wriggle too much while he does it. His cock is rock hard in his trousers as he makes the first letter, his breath heavy, a madness in his gaze. Octavia hisses and then moans at the pain, falling back onto the bed, and I increase my actions, drowning out the agony with blissful pleasure.
I grip her thigh tighter, and she begins to wriggle, her arousal dripping down my hand as I twist my fingers inside her, adding a fourth. It’s a tight fit, but she lets me in, keening, her hips bucking.
“That’s it, angel. I’m almost finished, and then you can come.”
“I can’t hold it,” she says, panting heavier.
“Ten more seconds, and then come for us, sweetheart,” Dorian orders.
I swirl my tongue over her clit, fucking melting as she cries my name, trying to buck harder into my face, my hand soaked. “Bastian!”
“Four seconds!” Dorian’s voice is husky, and he grunts, a breathlessness in his tone that makes me think he’s going to come as soon as she does.
“Dorian, please,” she sobs, crying out as I do another flick of my tongue.
“Now, Octavia. Come now.”
There’s a slight pause, and then she shatters on my tongue, her legs shaking uncontrollably. I fuck her with my hand, hard and fast, curling my fingers until she squeezes them so tight, I think they might break. I pull them out, lifting my head with a gasp, rubbing her clit fast, watching as she squirts, covering me in her mess.
Dorian dives, dragging his tongue over his name marked on her thigh, capturing all the blood. He shivers, groaning, and I grasp him by the back of his neck, pulling his head to me, forcing the fingers that were just inside her into his mouth. He sucks them all the way to the back of his throat, running his tongue over every bit of skin. I grab his dick, squeezing it tight over his trousers, and smirk.
“Come for us, big brother.”
His eyes flash, but a second later, his lashes flutter, and he shudders in my grip, falling on the bed, his trousers damping as he comes. I let him go, chuckling, stripping out of my clothes and crawl up Octavia’s body.
“My turn, pretty girl.”
She smiles, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I easily slip into her warm pussy, bottoming out in one swift movement.
“Fuck,” I groan. “I want to live inside this pussy for the rest of my fucking life.”
I grip her ass, being careful to hold her on the side without any marks, but she hisses anyway as I apply pressure to one of her tattoos. Her cunt clamps around my dick as I rock my hips, slowly grinding against her.
I keep my movements slow, gazing at her as she lies on the bed, her blonde hair fanned around her head like a halo. Her eyes are hooded, dazed with lust, pupils blown, lips swollen. She takes my fucking breath away. Something this beautiful loves me. She sees all my darkness, all my demons, and still loves me for it. Knows all my wrongs and doesn’t care.
“I would die for you, Octavia. I would tear myself to shreds, condemning myself to the pits of hell, just to feel a minute of your love, to have you gaze at me the way you are just once.”
I kiss her softly, pouring everything I have into it, letting her see into my tarnished soul.
“I love you, pretty girl,” I whisper against her lips.
She runs her hands up my neck, digging them into my hair. “I love you, Bastian. I love all your faults, all your darkness. I don’t love you despite those things, I love you for everything you are. Everything I have to give is yours.”
I grab her face, pulling her against my lips as words get stuck in my throat. The moment is small and brief, as it shatters by my ass being invaded by something it didn’t fucking invite in.
“Holy fucking christ,” I grunt, snapping my head around.
Dorian kneels on the bed at our side, his clothes removed, stroking his cock as he holds what appears to be a knife, the handle penetrating my fucking ass with no warning or warm up. It fucking burns, but as I buck into Octavia, the burning only adds to my pleasure.
“Not nice when your moment is interrupted, is it?”
“Bastard,” I snap, but it turns into a groan when he moves the knife, the handle hitting something inside that makes my legs weak. “Oh, fuck.”
I dive down to capture Octavia’s lips again, riding out the pleasure they’re both giving me. Dorian fucks my ass, and Octavia grinds her hips, moving her pussy up and down on my dick, topping from the bottom. I’ve gone from being in charge to being the puppet at their mercy between them.
“Do you like that, big brother? Do you like him fucking your ass?” Octavia whispers against my lips, and I nod, unable to form any words. “Such a good boy. My good boy.”
Her praise has shivers running down my spine at the same time her hands do, caressing me, soothing me, and I come undone. I roar against her shoulder, clamping my teeth down on her flesh, my hips stuttering as I come.
Didn’t know I was such a praise whore.
Dorian rips the knife from my ass, and I cry out. My cheeks are spread, and then I feel warmth hitting me in between them. I limply twist to see him coming on my ass. He groans, working over every drop, all of it landing on me. He keeps me spread, staring me dead in the eye—or Octavia, I’m not sure, as she’s raised her head to watch as well. He sticks his tongue out slowly, dragging it between my cheeks, licking his cum off.
My legs spasm when he circles it round my hole, I hiss out a breath and moan as Octavia’s pussy clamps around my softening dick. Dorian takes the knife he had inside me and digs it into my flesh on the back of my thigh, marking me as he cleans me up with his tongue.
“Oh fuck,” she whispers, trying to grind on me for some friction. I slip my hands between us, flicking and pinching her clit until she comes again, soaking me one more time.
I drop my head to her chest, resting there until Dorian is finished, and then place a soft kiss on her chest as he pats my ass. I roll off her, laying on my back in a fucking wonderful world of euphoria. Dorian starts to move up the bed, but Octavia sits up before I can even blink. She slaps him hard around the face; the sound ricocheting around the room. His head flies to the side, and he blinks rapidly, left dumbfounded for a moment, his left cheek sporting her handprint already.
I bolt up and move back slightly, giving her enough space to get a good swing so she doesn’t mess it up. She huffs a laugh as I do so, shaking her head ever so slightly, and then her hand connects with my cheek. My head rings and my jaw clicks. Fuck, she put some power behind that. I grip my chin, working my jaw for a second, shaking my head to get rid of the ringing.
She sits on her knees between us, pointing a finger into our chests. “Don’t you ever keep anything from me again that relates to me.”
Dorian opens his mouth, but the heated look she gives him has him closing it.
“I don’t want to hear your reasons for not telling me. I already bloody know them.”
She does?
Her laughter is cold, reminding me so much of Dorian’s, it’s eerie. “At first, you wouldn’t have told me because it was leverage on Father. Then, as you grew to care for me, I was yours, your little sister. No one was going to take the big brother role from you, and you would not want me to search for anybody else, or for me to care for anybody else.”
Dorian cocks his head to the side, smirking at her, tipping his chin up. “And after our feelings changed?”
She tilts her head right back, raising an eyebrow. “That one is easy. You both liked the fucked up, twisted darkness of me wanting my full-blooded brothers and caving in.” She laughs that cold laugh again and I swear, my dick is already hardening.
“I even get why you told Grandfather the way you did. It’s one of your compulsions to do a damn villain monologue when you crush your target,” she says, and Dorian scoffs, affronted. “Don’t act like you don’t. You’ve been doing it since we were kids. Bastian being the main recipient most of the time. You like to make everyone a puppet to your strings.”
Dorian’s mouth opens a couple times until he scowls, crossing his arms. “Well, how else are they supposed to know my genius? They don’t work it out beforehand, so I have to tell them, it would take them years, if ever.”
Rude.
Octavia’s eyes soften, and she cups his cheek, rubbing her thumb over it. “I know, Rian. I know.” She pushes her thumb in until he grunts, pinching his chin. “But never again to me,” she says with malice in her tone.
Fuck. Yep, totally hard again.
I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her onto my chest, laying back against the headboard. “Never again, pretty girl. I promise.”
I raise my eyebrow at Dorian until he huffs, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. I’m sorry, angel. I won’t keep anything from you again.”
“Good,” she sighs, closing her eyes and relaxing in my hold. “Now that that’s settled, can you please treat my wound? It is throbbing so freaking much.”
Dorian gazes down at it, running his finger over the cut, tracing his name out before getting up and grabbing our medical kit from the closet.
“I’m going to need special treatment for my wound as well, Rian .”
I squeeze Octavia tight, kissing her hair, taking a deep breath. “Just think: now, we can knock you up without you worrying something would be wrong with the baby. We’re still related by blood, but it is so distant, it won’t make a difference.”
“No,” Dorian bellows at the same time as she does.
“I don’t want kids,” she says, leaving no room for argument, looking up at me and Dorian. “I won’t bring kids into this bloodline. Ever.”
Dorian comes over with the kit, sitting down and placing the items he needs out. “Good, because I will never share you with another person apart from our brother. I can’t.”
The pained expression on his face shows that what he says is true. He will never be able to let her give a part of herself to another, never be able to handle her loving anyone but us. It’s toxic and poisonous, but we’ve never tried to pretend we are anything but, and she loves us anyway.
“Bas?” she whispers, and I realise they are both waiting for me to say something, to acknowledge if I can live without children.
I shrug my shoulders, not caring either way. “I’m happy with whatever you want, pretty girl. Kid or no kid, it doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re getting what you want.”
“This is what I want. Just us.” She nods, closing her eyes, exhaustion taking over. Dorian cleans up her wound gently, and I close my eyes, content with my everything in my arms.