Page 50 of Bloodmoon Ritual

“Truly we have been blessed by the Allfather,” Rhyder said. “To have found each other again. Nothing was right without you.”

His voice rumbled on my back, vibrating through my chest, his rough fingers on my chin, trying to encourage me to turn around and kiss him.

But I wouldn’t.

His cock hardened on my back as his fingers moved down my throat to cup my small breasts.

Then he was rolling over me, laying me on my back and pulling up my dress again, groaning as he sunk so deep into me it felt like I would split in two.

This time I felt the slick give as he reached greedy hands into the shredded bodice of my dress, rough fingers skimming my breasts, the callouses on his fingers catching on my sensitive nipples as he thrust into me.

When I gasped, he moved up to my mouth, kissing my sore lips, though they felt swollen from his cock.

“Temperance, open for me,” he growled, and I knew he meant more than just my cunt.

He wanted all of me. He wanted an open cunt, sweet lips, me to love him back.

But I couldn’t. Iwouldn’t.

Rhyder was big and overpowering, his arms and legs caging me in powerfully. My nipples stung a bit, unwilling heat there and in my reluctant cunt.

The tent was dark, my brother’s body big and powerful.

How many times had he already come that day, and his cock was still taking me with such an urgent, punishing pace?

When he came, I felt like a tiny bird trapped in a wicked spider’s web, that all my flailing around had gotten me was ensnared and tightened in the web.

Rhyder moved back behind me, pulling me firmly against his chest as his seed sat heavy and wicked inside me.

“I didn’t want the first time to be out in the woods,” Rhyder said, his voice raw with emotion. “I wanted the first time to be after the claiming ceremony. I wanted it to be in front of the Prophet and the whole Congregation. So everyone would know that you belong to me, would see it written on your throat, in lines down your back and arms.”

His hands traced reverential lines down my face, a low note of pain in his voice as he felt the tears leak from my eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

I didn’t know how to say everything that was wrong, my cunt and core aching and raw, his cum pooling in my thighs, seeping into my skin.

“My books,” I said, bitterness lacing in my voice. “You wouldn’t even leave me one. You wouldn’t even let me haveone.”

“What do you need a book for? You have me.”

I cried out in the helpless struggle against his power and obsession.

“It’s always the same with you, Rhyder! You’re too jealous to let me have anything of my own.”

“You can’t love anything but me,” he said again, his voice hard and angry.

“Whatever. Fuck me if you want to. Just don’t talk to me.”

And I squeezed my eyes shut and refused to say anything else.

But it didn’t stop him from whispering in my ear, and I fell asleep as I always had, to my brother’s whispered devotion.

His voice a low, jagged croon.

I love you

You are mine

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