Page 12 of Brothers' Brat

"Me too," Hayden agrees, his voice barely audible over the sound of water lapping against porcelain.

I dip a cloth into the warm water, watching it soak before I run it across our sister's skin, tracing the lines where we left our marks. The sight sends a ripple of possessiveness through me, an acknowledgment of the bond we have with her.

"Look at these marks," I say softly, allowing the rag to linger on the bruises blooming like shadows against her pale skin.

"I can't help but like them," Hayden confesses, his hands massaging her shoulders with a gentle touch for someone with such large, rough hands. "Makes me feel like she's ours."

"Fuck, Hayden…" My groan is involuntary as I reach higher, my fingers circling her nipples, coaxing a moan from her that vibrates through the room. The sound shatters any pretense of detachment I might have had.

"Beautiful," I breathe out, the word hanging heavy between us.

Her eyes, those deep wells of resistance and surrender, flutter open, meeting mine then sliding to Hayden's. There's something in that hazy gaze that hooks right into my chest—a glint of raw, unguarded emotion.

The steam dances above the water, swirling in the dim light. "I've always been yours," she murmurs, her voice a feather drifting on a breeze. "The way you looked at me tonight, I realized it then."

Her eyelids flutter again, like a delicate tremor. I pause, the cloth in my hand suspended midair. She looks so fragile in her exhaustion. The vulnerability she's giving us right now pierces through my chest, and it's more than I could have ever asked from her.

"I had to guard my heart from the two of you." Her eyes, half-mast, meet mine before shifting to Hayden's. "Because you're the only ones who could shatter it."

"Fuck, Leila," Hayden whispers, his voice a mix of awe and something darker. His blue eyes, usually so stormy with need, soften at her confession.

"Sleep, baby," I tell her, my own voice strained with a bunch of emotions I couldn't name if I tried. Leila's lids fall, sealing shut again, surrendering to the pull of dreams. The lines of her face relax, and she slips further away from consciousness. She's drifting, retreating into a world where we can't follow, and that makes me want to wake her back up.

"Go get the bed ready," I instruct Hayden before I can do something stupid. There's an edge of urgency to my command, and I know he senses it because he nods once, silent as he rises, leaving me alone in the bathroom with our sister.

Gently, I lift her from the bath, the water cascading off her. Wrapping her in a towel, I cradle her against me. Her head rests against my chest, and I dip my head, brushing my lips against her mouth.

I hold her close, carrying her through the threshold of the bathroom, each step a reluctant march toward the bed.

"Sweet dreams, Leila. It's going to be a long night."

CHAPTER 10

HAYDEN

The room is dim, the only light a sliver from the moon slicing through the blinds, casting a silver glow over Leila's naked form. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, a canvas of creamy skin stretched out between Hudson and me.

"Look at her," Hudson whispers, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the sheets. He eases Leila's legs apart, his fingers a ghostly touch as they trace up her inner thigh. "I want to watch you touch her, Hayden."

The weight of my brother's gaze is heavy on me. It isn't just lust in his eyes—it's possession, a dark thrill. My hands are large, my fingers calloused from gripping hockey sticks over the years, yet when I reach for Leila, I'm all gentleness. The warmth of her skin seeps into my palms as I cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that respond to my touch.

"Fuck, I love watching your hands on her," Hudson admits, his green eyes locked on my hands covering her tits. He chuckles darkly, and I look at him questioningly. "If anyone else tried this in front of me, I'd fucking kill them."

It's more than a confession; it's a shared secret, a bond between brothers that goes beyond blood. I understand the violence in his tone, the ownership. We're two halves of a whole, and our sister has become the center of it.

"Same," I agree, my voice gravelly with need for the girl lying in front of me. I could do anything I wanted to her right now, but my urge to hurt her, to break her, is all but forgotten.

Leila stirs, a soft sigh escaping her lips, but her eyes remain closed, her consciousness seemingly hovering in that space between sleep and waking. I can feel her, the heat radiating off her body, the rise and fall of her chest against my touch.

"God, she's perfect," I tell my brother. My thumb rolls over a stiff nipple, eliciting another sleepy moan from Leila. She's unaware of the storm she's aroused in us, the dark hunger she feeds with every unconscious whimper.

Hudson leans in closer, and I feel the shift of the mattress. His breath fans across my arm, hot and quickened. "Let's make her feel good together," he says, and there's no question, no hesitation.

We move in tandem, Hudson lifting Leila's hips while I slide down her body. Our tongues and lips descend on her wet pussy and work in unison. Her body jerks, but she doesn't wake up, and that adds to our pleasure. Hudson pulls her clit between his lips just as my tongue dips inside her tight hole.

A low growl rumbles in my throat as I watch Hudson's fingers dance along Leila's skin, his touch featherlight. My hands are anything but gentle, gripping the soft flesh of her breasts.

"Touch her, Hayden," Hudson whispers, green eyes dark with lust as he pulls away from her pussy. "Just like that."

---