Page 68 of His Pretty Little Duet

“What time is it?”

I glance at them questioningly, but they continue to talk, continue to smile—such huge smiles. Did they hear my question? I focus on my tongue resting on the roof of my mouth, my jaw locked together. Did I say it out loud?

I blink.

I blink again, and I’m on my back on the couch with Landon kneeling on either side of my hips, working his arms low, fumbling with something below my knees. Benji is behind my head on the couch now, looking down at me, and I meet his eyes. My heart feels like a slow bass in my throat.

My eyes sting.

His narrow. “It’s okay, Fawn. Just breathe."

When did I lie down?

Landon groans. “I’ve seen nothin' so fuckin' sexy in all my life. Don’t you think, Jake?”

“Perfect,” he agrees. “Doesn’t seem right for you to go to someone else, does it?”

I spread my thighs to see what he’s doing, and he hisses. “So sexy. I bet you’re tight. The tightest little thing.”

God, I don’t understand. Is he talking about me? Am I still watching that movie? His hand is on his cock. Needing to speak, I open my mouth, wanting to tell him I can see him, that he should put it away, but it all feels silly. I giggle, but I’m not happy. I want a scream to come from the place that giggle came from. My heart whooshes between my ears.

What is even happening?

I want... I want someone to walk downstairs, to see what I’m seeing so I don’t overreact, misinterpret. The vision of him touching himself blurs, my eyes misting up with tears.

When I slowly turn my face, heavy and mechanical, I see Jake. Pleas fill my eyes with water. My lips refuse to move, but his smile is the biggest of all, sloped, morphed.

When I look back at Landon, my dress is bunched around my waist, and he is dipping down between my legs. Terror circles me. No. Something is wrong with me. Something... I’m seeing things. A whimper fights its way up my throat when a wet and cold sensation touches me between the legs.

“She likes it. Keep going,” Benji says.

My mind screams for me to thrash around beneath him, summon all my strength, every muscle rigid with the need to fight... but my arse just shuffles slightly instead.

“God, she tastes good. Come here. Try her.”

My brothers move.

Switch.

Benji is there now.

I can’t keep track; they are like lines of black streaking the room. Back and forth. Back and forth.

I close my eyes to stop the lines from moving, but I can feel licking between my legs, hear them talking about me. It’s not real, though, it’s all in my head, and if I can just sleep, when I wake up, we will all laugh about my silly mind.

Darkness.

“That’s enough. Her virginity is mine. You promised,” Jake growls, his deep tone right by my ear, his breath gushing past like wind. My body is being touched...

Pain spears me.

My eyes open to him pinning me to the cushions, kissing my throat, panting, the smell of marijuana swallowing us both.

It doesn't go away.

His body is heavy, squeezing the air from my lungs. He’s stretching me open. Crawling up inside me. My face is so wet, tickles, trickles, a rushing sensation from my eyes, pooling into my ears. The pain is excruciating. When he thrusts harder, rocking us both on the couch, the dotted lights overhead bob, fizzle in and out, and no one seems to notice.

It's my eyes.

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