Chapter 5
Samuel
I'm on her before she can slip inside.
My hand catches the back of her dress, and I yank. She stumbles backward onto the landing with a gasp. The wall meets her shoulder blades with a thud I feel in my own chest.
We're both breathing like we've run miles.
"What's the rush, CeeCee?" My voice comes out like gravel scraping up my throat. "You invite me up here with your leaking pussy putting off that sexy fuck-me scent, then try to disappear?"
She doesn't answer. Just stares up at me with those goddamn eyes, blue like a gas flame, pupils swallowing the color.
Her chest rises, falls, rises again. The neckline of that dress isn't doing much work anymore. One thin strap has slipped, showing the freckled slope of her shoulder.
"I think we can work something out." I step closer, boxing her against the wall. She doesn't flinch. "Don't you?"
"You're my brother." It’s a sort of admonition but her panting little breaths through those pink, open lips tell the story her words don’t.
"And?"
"Brothers don't—"
"Brothers don't what?" I flatten my palm against the wall beside her head. "Say it. I want to hear you say it."
Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip. The lip gloss catches the hallway light. "I don't know what you want me to say."
"Bullshit." The word lands between us. "You've known exactly what you were doing all this time."
Her eyelids dip. A flush creeps up from her collarbones, staining her throat pink.
“Brother’s don’t want this from their sisters.”
She shifts her weight, and her hip brushes my thigh.
Accidental? Nope.
"Oh, yes they fucking do, and you owe me, CeeCee."
She blinks. "Owe you?"
I lean in, my mouth finding the space just beside her ear.
"Five years since I decided those people had no right calling themselves our parents.
Four since I brought you here. Gave you everything.
Clothes. Food. A roof. A life." Her breath shudders out.
"And you've been a good little sister. Mostly.
" I pull back just enough to watch her face. "But this life isn’t free."
"What do you want?"
She knows the answer. We both know. But she wants me to say it so she can pretend this is my doing and not hers.
"You." I keep it simple. “You’re going to do things I need you to do."
Something shifts in her expression. The corner of her mouth twitches upward. She tilts her head back against the wall, exposes the long line of her throat, and licks her upper lip with a slow, deliberate drag of her tongue.
"Yes, Daddy," she whispers.
Fucking brat. Who’s chasing who here?
She knows when she says it like that, she always gets her way. But now?
"Say it again," I demand stiffly, the corner of my mouth lifting in a smirk.
Her smile spreads, shoulders hitching back, smacking her lips together before she complies. "Daddy."
I grab a fistful of her beautiful blonde hair by the root, and she drags a sharp breath though those teasing lips as I pull and tilt her chin up.
“You need a little reminder of who is in charge, sister.” The curls wrap around my fingers. "You like that."
She nods. The movement tugs the strands of her hair tangled in my fingers.
"Words, CeeCee. Use them."
"I like it."
"What do you like?"
"When you pull my hair." Her voice is a breathy whine. "When you feed me breakfast. When you look at me like that. Tease me. Correct me. Chase me. Look at me. Pay attention to me."
She goes from scared little girl to snarky brat to desperate slut in that long line of admissions, and my heart nearly catapults from my chest. I close the distance, and my mouth is on hers before I can talk myself out of it.
I had a plan, sure.
I’ve had it since she blew out the candles on that Bananas Foster that Maria made for her birthday dinner.
But all the planning, the jerking off during the nights when I couldn’t sleep, knowing that legal pussy was sleeping just on the other side of the wall, didn’t convince me I would follow through.
Her lips part under mine, and the taste of her is—God, I don't have words for it. It’s so…final.
I feel my way into her mouth with my tongue, noting the tips of her teeth, the soft firmness of her tongue against mine.
I’m kissing my sister. Fuck, yeah. So much better than any fantasy I’ve had.
Her tongue finds mine, and she melts into me. She doesn't play coy, just slides against me like we've done this a thousand times.
Fuck. Her mouth is warm and eager, and the sound I make against her teeth is ten years of wanting compressed into one ragged exhale.
My free hand finds her hip. The heat of her skin through the fabric, the jut of bone, the give of flesh.
I grip hard enough to leave fingerprints there for days, and she arches into it, pressing her belly against the front of my pants where we both know I’m aching.
"You feel that?" I break the kiss just long enough to speak. "You feel what you do to me?"
She nods, her forehead dropping against my chin. "Yes. Yes, I feel it."
"Good."
I don't let her catch her breath.
My mouth is on her throat now, tracing the path of that blush from her jaw to her collarbone. She tastes like salt and perfume. Bet she never thought I'd be licking it off her when I got home. Her pulse hammers against my tongue, and I can feel every beat begging for what’s coming next.
"Please," she breathes.
"Please what?"
"Please, Daddy. I've been so good."
"You've been a goddamn menace, is what you've been." She looks like an angel and smells like paradise, but she’s ruthless. “Making me dream of you, hard for you…making me want to do things to you I shouldn’t. But, none of that matters, it’s too late.”
Her beauty and innocence could topple kingdoms. My kingdom, first of all.
Her laugh is breathless. "Maybe."
"Maybe nothing." I pull back and release her hair. Her cheeks are ripe, lips swollen. Dress strap hanging off one shoulder. She looks debauched already, and I haven't even started.
I press my palm flat against her sternum, right between her breasts, where her heart is kicking like a wild thing. Then I slide my hand to the back of her neck and push down.
“Be a good girl, sis.” I cinch my brow as I guide her lower, a painful groan expelling from my chest as her knees meet the floor in front of me.
"Take it out."
Her eyes go wide. "What?"
I jerk my chin toward my belt. "You can do it. Take my dick out and suck it like you did my thumb. Big girls have to do big girl things. Don’t keep me waiting."
For one long moment I think I've pushed too far. Then her hands come up trembling, and her fingers find my belt buckle. The metal clinks. The leather slides through.
"That’s my girl,” I praise, licking my lips, ready to nut all over that cute little confused face.
She makes a high-pitched sound in her throat as her fingers work, fumbling with the button of my trousers. The zipper teeth rasp apart one by one, and the sound echoes in the quiet hallway.
"Look up at me." Those heavenly eyes raise, and I feel like a fucking God. I want to pound my chest and roar to the world that my sister, the girl who calls me Daddy, is about to put my dick in her mouth and make me cum.
Her pupils are so blown the blue is nearly gone, just thin rings of color around black. Her breathing is shallow, her lips parted, and she's never looked more beautiful or more dangerous.
“That’s it, baby. Take me out, then lick your lips and give it a nice kiss.”