10. Octavia
10
Octavia
D orian and I don’t talk the entire way down to the dining room. He keeps my hand clasped in his the entire way, never uttering a word or looking at me. My lip is sore from the amount I’ve bitten it on the way down, wanting to say something but not sure what.
The table is already laid out as we take our assigned seats: me on my own on one side while Bastian and Dorian sit opposite, our father at the head as far away from us as he can get. Except now, it’s just me and Dorian. He’s already taking bites out of the chicken the chefs have prepared, and I’m pushing mine around the plate, my appetite non-existent.
How on Earth can I sit here and eat after what happened? How does he know that I want him, that I’ve wanted to utter the words big brother while he touched me? Have I been that obvious? Did Father tell him?
“Everything okay, Octavia?” Dorian asks, rudely interrupting my mental breakdown.
My cutlery crashes against the plate as I drop them, taking a big swig of wine. If Father was here, my unwomanly behaviour would appal him. Women in this family were only good for marrying off and breeding. God forbid we have our own minds or goals or achievements.
Dorian smirks, raising his glass of neat whiskey to his lips, amused as a trickle of red wine seeps from the side of my mouth, running down my chin. I slam the glass down, scowling back as I catch the droplet with my thumb before sucking it off. My own smirk grows seeing his grip around the glass tighten, his throat bobbing, eyes locked on my mouth.
“Is that the type of game you want to play?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, a motion I copy, but I falter as he adds, “Little sister.”
I run my tongue across my lip, contemplating. Do I take the risk? This could all be an elaborate plan of our father’s to find out if I’ve truly gotten rid of my twisted affliction. Dorian and Bastian have always protected me from him, always been on my side, but what if he disclosed to them why I left, and they felt repulsed? What if all of this is a ploy? They might cast me aside, and I could end up losing them for good.
“Really? This is the love you two show your sibling? Starting dinner and not even waiting for me!” Bastian bellows, slamming the door open.
I gasp in my seat, my hands flying to my face at the sight of him. Blood covers his bare chest and arms, across his face. I’m flying out of my chair towards him before my brain has even caught up, ploughing into his body, not caring about the sticky substance that covers him.
“Bas,” I cry, patting him down, trying to find the wound. “Are you okay? What happened?”
There’ve been plenty of times Bas stumbled into my room with one wound or another, needing to be patched up. Dorian is sprouting a fresh wound on his neck at this moment. I’ve been patching up my brothers since I was six years old, Bas more than Rian. They still have jagged scars from the botched job I used to do, but I got better, and they would have no one else do it once I started.
He wraps his arms around me, stopping me from checking on him, breathing deeply into my hair as he chuckles at my struggle.
“Seriously, Bastian. Stop fucking around and show me where you’re hurt,” I snap, stomping my foot. He always said a hug from me stops the pain, but it doesn’t stop his body from bleeding.
“Aww. Is my baby sis worried about her big brother?”
He holds me tighter, squishing my face into his blood, making me feel the wet warmth that coats him. Dorian’s chuckle reaches us, doing nothing to help at all, both of them unbothered by a possible life-threatening wound. I swear, these two are the most deranged people in the entire fucking world.
“Yes,” I seethe. “Now let me see the wound before I kick you in the dick, big brother !”
Bastian stills, and I huff a piece of hair out of my face, pulling back in relief that he’s going to let me check him, but he doesn’t let me go. The room fills with tension, bubbling over my skin, making my stomach flip and my heart pound. It’s exactly the same as it was in the office with Rian, but this time, it feels more. More alive. More dangerous. My skin prickles, and shivers run down my body.
“Say it again,” Bastian growls, keeping me flush to his chest.
It takes two seconds for me to understand what he means, but as I do, I freeze just as much as he does. I called him big brother. I haven’t done that in years, not after I started looking at them differently and that name took on another meaning.
“You have three seconds to say that again, Octavia, or so fucking help me…” Bastian leaves the threat open ended, and I wonder what he will do if I don’t say it. It almost makes me not want to.
“I said, let me see the wound before I kick you in the dick .”
I straighten my spine, preparing myself for what I’m about to do. Either way, there’s no going back. I’ll have my answer. Bas snarls an unholy noise, fisting his hand into my hair, yanking my head back. The anger on his face takes my breath away, and I whisper, “Big brother.”
His lips crash into mine, his tongue demanding entrance that I willingly give. Pleasure explodes all around me, his touch everything I dreamed it would be. His hands grasp my bare ass, lifting me as my legs go weak, not once stopping his demanding kiss. I forget the blood and the possible wound and fall into him.
Bastian kisses like he’s trying to consume me, leaving no room to breathe or even think about anything outside of him. We crash into the table, and I barely feel pain at the dishes smashing around us.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to call me that, little sister?” Bastian growls against my lips, fisting my shirt as I sit on top of the table.
I shake my head, eyes wide, mouth open. He rips my shirt apart, revealing the black sheer bra, setting my skin on fire. He moans at the sight, cupping my breasts in his palms, tweaking my nipples.
“Fuck! You always did have great taste, brother.” He bends his head, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, running his tongue across it over the fabric. I cry out, arching my back, pushing my breast further against his mouth, wanting more.
“I only enjoy the finest things. You know that, little brother,” Dorian says, sitting closer to us, lounging back and watching. Bastian growls at the name, clamping his teeth around my nipple, making me scream as Dorian smirks knowingly.
“Tell our little sister how long you’ve wanted to stretch her cunt on your cock, little brother,” he taunts again, and Bas clamps down harder, making me hiss.
“Years,” Bastian growls around my nipple, staring up at me through hooded eyes. “I’ve wanted to stretch, taste, fuck, and claim your sweet fucking pussy for years.”
I keen as he slips two fingers into my pussy while he says it, not waiting for permission or asking if I want him to. He takes my pussy like it belongs to him, touching me like there would be no reason not to.
“And how long have you been lying to us, Octavia?” Dorian asks, dragging my attention away from Basian’s fingers stretching me.
“What?” I stutter on a moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Bastian crashes to his knees, pushing my skirt to my waist, exposing my sex. He grips my thigh, fingers digging into my soft flesh, pushing it open and running his tongue up my clit, sending sparks of pleasure through me.
“I asked you a question, little sister. Pay attention,” Dorian barks, and my head snaps up.
Bastian chuckles, sucking my clit into his mouth as my hips buck against him, my head swimming, trying to focus on Dorian.
“I…I never lied to you,” I mutter, grasping Bastian’s hair, keeping him in place.
Dorian tuts, slowly rising from his chair and moving to our side. “I think you have lied to us. You’ve been pretending for years that you didn’t want us, that your sweet cunt hasn’t been desperate for us. You’ve been rejecting us at every turn.” He cups my cheek, shaking his head in sorrow.
I gasp in rage and in pleasure as Bastian adds another finger, finding my g-spot, focusing solely on it as he sucks my clit perfectly.
“I’ve never rejected you. I didn’t even know you felt the same way. You shouldn’t feel this way… I shouldn’t… It’s wrong… Twisted,” I cry even as I thrust onto Bastian’s hand.
“Yes, but that makes you like it more, doesn’t it? The sick twisted-ness of wanting your big brothers to fuck you. It makes it that much more fucking delicious, doesn’t it?”
Dorian’s lips are on mine as he speaks. I desperately want him to kiss me, to feel his tongue against mine while I fuck Bastian’s face. One touch of his lips, and I’ll come. My orgasm is building so tightly in my body, I’m seconds away from it.
My head nods and shakes, two parts of me battling out inside, neither the winner. I want this so badly, it hurts. He’s right: the forbidden-ness of it makes their touch so much more electric, but I’ve spent years denying myself. I can’t help the denial whispering out.
“No.”
Dorian steps away as Bastian gets up from between my legs, stealing the orgasm that was just about to happen. “No, I didn’t mean it. I-”
I cry, my body shaking, everything in overdrive.
Dorian sighs heavily, shaking his head as he walks away.
“Wait,” I shout, making him stop and turn, but nothing more comes out.
“Don’t worry, Octavia. We won’t touch you again—not unless you can admit it. When you do, I want you crawling on your knees begging for your big brother’s cock. I want to hear all the ways you’ve fantasised about us, every single one. And if you can’t…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, shrugging his shoulders as he walks to the door.
“And if I can’t, what?” I ask, tears running down my face, overly exposed everywhere, the orgasm denial making me a jumbled mess.
Dorian turns back and smirks cruelly, giving me a dismissive glance. “Then I suppose you’ll make someone in the organisation a perfect, timid wife.”
A burning fury runs down my spine, and I see red, grabbing the first thing I can reach to fling at him. Black glass smashes against the wall by his retreating head, narrowly missing the bastard.
“Fuck you!”
I’m seething. He always promised that, no matter what, they would never let Father marry me off. No matter what he said or did, Dorian and Bastian promised it would never happen.
Bastian stands in the middle of the room, scowling at the empty doorway Dorian just went through. His body is racked with tension, his muscles stiff, hands clenching at his sides. The blood on his body is all smeared, decorating my chest, thighs, and face now as well.
Dorian calls his name from the hall, but he doesn’t go to him. Instead, Bastian storms over to me, grasping my face in his hands and forcing his lips on mine. His fingers find my clit, and he rubs in furious circles, winding me up quickly.
“Fall into the darkness with us, little sister,” he whispers. “Come on my fucking fingers and fall into the dark for me.”
I scream against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck. White hot pleasure pools in my stomach, my release dripping down my legs as they shake.
“Yes,” he hisses, working my clit faster, making me squirt for the first time with no penetration. “That’s it. Come all over my fucking hand.”
I pull frantically at his neck, scratching and tugging his hair until his lips are back on mine. I take everything he willingly gives, unsure if it’s the first and last time.
“You are mine, Octavia. I claimed you as you were taking your first fucking breath, and you claimed me. Embrace the darkness, little sister. The light burns sinners, and you are the most sinful of them all.”
He releases me suddenly and walks away. Dorian stands at the doorway glaring at us both before stomping off, and Bastian smirks over his shoulder, sending me a wink and a kiss. I stumble to my feet, needing to get to him.
“Bas, your wound.”
I need to stitch him up or it won’t heal, but he keeps on walking away, shaking his head.
“Not my blood, pretty girl.”
I halt in place, frowning, and he cackles, sending me another wink.
“Don’t wait too long to beg. You know how much of a psycho our brother is. The punishments will be fun for us; not sure how you will feel about it, though.” He blows me another kiss, his laughter echoing in the halls, and my stomach drops.