Prologue
2 years later
Every day, my scar taunts me.
Every look in the mirror, every time I wake up, I’m reminded I’ve been marked for life and there’s nothing I can do about it. I know Blane doesn’t like touching it – whenever his hands roam my body, he makes sure to avoid the spot on my back where the words are carved deep in my skin.
Blane tells me no one can see it anyway.
But I’m still self-conscious.
I imagine people’s eyes burning through my clothes, seeing right through the fabric to the damaged, puckered skin, where Aiden’s words lie forever.
I’m not done.
It’s not just the scars. It’s those words, that goddamned sentence which makes me wake up screaming every night, plagued by nightmares. It makes me shiver every time I go into a dark alley, keeps me looking over my shoulder on a cold night.
It keeps me in a state of perpetual fear and I know I need to be brave, need to trust Blane and the other men protecting me. Yet I can do nothing about the gut-wrenching feeling of dread deep in the pit of my belly.
Blane wants a baby.
He has made that abundantly clear, at first just hinting at the fact, but becoming more and more obvious with each day that passed. Finally, he admitted how badly he wanted a child out loud, and I’ve been dreading the topic ever since.
How on earth am I supposed to bring an innocent infant in the world, knowing there is a man out there who would do anything and everything to hurt it? I would never forgive myself when – if something actually happened.
In his sleep, Blane pulls me closer until my body is tight against his. I can feel his hardness through his pajama bottoms, always ready for me, wanting me.
At least that aspect of our lives hasn’t changed, and I’m thankful everyday for choosing the right brother. I guess it always has been Blane, and Aiden could never stand it.
Settling into the crook of my stepbrother’s arms, I close my eyes firmly and tell myself to go to sleep, but it’s a vain effort. Dark thoughts keep penetrating my thoughts and I can’t seem to be able to get a wink of sleep.
I lie next to Blane for hours, until it’s finally an acceptable hour of the morning to get up. Nuzzling into his side, he groans when he feels me moving.
“Slept well?” he asks me and this time it’s my time to groan as I bury my face in his neck. I love the way he smells – all musk and something sweet, like vanilla and mint. It drives me crazy, even after all this time.
Blane takes my face in his hands, flipping me on my stomach until I’m on top of his body, straddling him. His eyes are sleepy, but mischievous nonetheless and my gaze replicates his in moments.
“Ready for you,” he groans, guiding my hand over his boxer shorts, where his cock is begging to be set free and played with.
I tease him, running my hand over his shorts until he groans my name over and over again. Finally, he has enough of me and slips my hand into his boxers.
My fingers wrap around the thick head of his cock, the skin velvety smooth in my hand. I moan when I feel the drop of pre-cum already on his cock, the bead wet under my fingers. I pull my hand out of his boxers and bring my index finger to my lips, giving it a long, delicious lick.
I’ve come a long way since I was the sweet little girl whose innocence was taken away by her stepbrother … And then once again by his twin. It’s like some sick fairytale.
The moment I lick his cum from my finger is the second he comes undone. With a low growl emanating from deep in his throat, he flips me on my back and rips my panties off until my pulsating sex is on full display.
Already panting, he licks a finger fervently and pushes it inside me without waiting for my approval. I moan and my back arches as he checks if I’m ready for him. Finding me wet and willing, he gives me a satisfied grin and removes his finger, gripping his cock and guiding it towards my dripping entrance.
“Want me?” he groans hoarsely,
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