Page 100 of Filthy Little Witch
CHAPTER 32
Wesson
I’d always admired Atlas, especially when he got like this. All surly and mean, taking what he wanted and screw anyone who got in his way. Except now that I was on the receiving end of that, I couldn’t help the tiny bit of fear that swirled with my excitement. Maybe he read this in my eyes or felt it across the bond because he flashed me that lady-killer grin and winked.
“I told you if I caught you, I would do whatever I wanted with you.” He sat back on my hips, pressing his full weight on my throbbing dick, and pulled the leather out of his belt buckle. “Time to pay up, little brother.”
The jingling metal echoed off the trees, and somehow, that sound made this more real.
I love you. We love you.
It repeated in my head as he shoved his pants down, took out his cock, and scooted up my body so his shins pressed my biceps into the ground. He sat back on my chest and stroked his shaft inches from my face, little drips of precum leaking out of the head.
My mouth watered, and as much as I had fought him, fought this, I had secretly hoped it would end up here. My muscles trembled and I stared up his long torso, the heat in his eyes propelling me forward. I lifted my head, trying to lick him, but he pushed my forehead back down.
“Patience,” he said with a chuckle. “So greedy. You must have missed my cock almost as much as me, huh?”
It brought up memories of being in the liminal with him, when I’d shaken as he’d taken me as hard as he wanted. Of course, that hadn’t really been me…or rather, it hadn’t been completely me. In the weeks since I left them, I’d come to realize the demon had me then. It had probably had me the entire time we’d been there, since it sliced open my chest and infiltrated my dreams. But I pushed thoughts like that away. They didn’t have any place here with my brother and me. No, the only things allowed here were the woods and the moonlight and the mischief in Atlas’s eyes as he worked himself inches from my face.
“Now, are you going to be a good boy and let me fuck your throat?” He raised a condescending eyebrow, and every self-respecting cell in my body told me to fight him.
But now? Fuck, I sank into submission with all the grace of a newborn donkey. My knees shook and my heart raced, and if he didn’t do something soon, I might lose my nerve.
“Yes,” I finally croaked, nodding quickly.
He hummed a laugh and threaded his fingers through my hair, gripping the crown tight.
“Open your mouth,” he said.
I did, and he leaned over me to spit on my tongue. It should have repulsed me, should have made me feel degraded and humiliated. I deserved it, he said. I deserved worse, I thought. But it had the opposite effect. I moaned and let him slap his cock against my tongue, playfully batting the tip against my skin.
“Lick me,” he commanded, and I rushed to obey, lapping at the underside, the head, the slit, anything I could reach. Like this, he was utterly in his element, so powerful and controlling, and my conscience stopped riding me. I didn’t have to think about Marta or my absence or the shame ruining everything that was once good about me. I only had to do this one thing. I only had to stick out my tongue and do whatever my brother told me to do.
The monster at the back of my mind, the one constantly beating against metal bars and begging to be let out of its cage, was notably gone. Quiet. Wordless. Blessedly absent.
The silence was intoxicating, and when he finally stuffed himself inside my mouth, I relaxed into the eternal peace of him. Just him. I sucked and softened my jaw, letting him press in and out. He tasted like salt and sweat and Atlas, and the combination added to my blissed-out state. Warmth rushed around my own cock as the tie between us blazed to life. I didn’t think I’d ever get over that, the strange symbiotic limerence of our blood bond. Being this far away from Marta made it feel incomplete, and her absence from this whole experience plucked at the strain on my heart.
He said he loved me. He said Marta was a mess without me. And it hit me then, while I was sucking my brother’s cock. All the times they’d shown me. When they wouldn’t leave me in the liminal. When Marta smiled up at me first thing in the morning. When we took care of each other for two months while fighting over laundry and dishes in the sink.
Maybe he was right…Maybe I let this burning shame inside of me get the better of my senses. Maybe I was flawed and imperfect and fucked-up, but maybe that was enough. Just like they were beautiful wrecked and broken, and that was enough for me.
I’d been such a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have left him. I shouldn’t have let my guilt eat me alive. I should have listened to my brother from the start. We were in this now, the three of us, and now that the train had run off the tracks, I had to keep my hands and feet inside the vehicle until it imploded.
“There ya go. That’s right, let me have your throat,” Atlas cooed, pulling out only to thrust in deeper. He hit the back of my mouth, and I focused on breathing in through my nose to keep from gagging, but fuck, even that turned me on. My eyes watered, and drool dripped out of the corners of my lips, but pinned down as I was, there was nothing I could do but endure it. Of course, someone like Atlas fucking my mouth was hardly something to endure. No, I cherished it. I let him use my mouth however he wanted because he was my brother, and I loved him, and we were intertwined in ways that could never be undone.
Hadn’t I insisted on this? Hadn’t I been the one saying what happened in the liminal stayed in the liminal? And now with his full weight on my chest and his cock in my throat, I found myself infinitely thrilled that he hadn’t listened to that.
It was fucked up, certainly, but we’d been fucked-up our whole lives, and why stop now?
He stilled his movements and pulled out, giving me a chance to suck in a deep gasp of air.
“Aww, look at how adorable you are.” He swiped his thumb under my eyes to brush away my tears and wiped the corners of my lips. “Such a pretty little cocksucker.”
I panted while he undid my belt, zipped down my jeans, and flipped me over. I barely had time to brace myself before his tongue was in my ass, licking and swiping and forcing my face down to the ground from the sheer exhilaration racing through my blood.
“Yes,” I cried, unwillingly sending the telepathic moan straight to him. He laughed and tongue-fucked me harder, and my cock leaked onto the undergrowth, an obscene display of just how much I loved it. I scrambled for purchase on the ground, but my muscles trembled so hard, I couldn’t hold myself up. And when he pressed a finger inside me, I nearly collapsed.
“Look at this tight little hole,” he taunted, coaxing his finger in deeper. “I’m going to wreck you, brother, more than I did in the liminal. And I think you like that most of all, huh?”
