Page 57 of Bloodmoon Ritual

“You don’t know how long,” he groaned as his words wreathed around my head, imprinted on my flesh. “HowlongI’ve wanted this. How many times I couldn’t concentrate in meetings while you were gone. How many times during Body and Blood I had to leave and touch my cock because you weren’t beside me.”

His words inflamed me, even the bonedeep wrongness of him thinking of me during Body and Blood.

I needed more

More of my brother

My neck and back felt slick with sweat as my nails dragged down his body, my cunt tightening, my clit swollen with desire.

“More,” I cried, feeling half-mad with need and Rhyder thrust even harder, his fat cock engorged and hitting every inch of me.

“Always,” he promised, as he ground me against the post. “I will always give you more, Temperance.”

And I came with a loud groan, my body tensing and releasing in delicious lengthy waves.

I gasped with the pure, exquisite pleasure of it, stars exploding in my eyes like pink cotton candy, like soft sweet tendrils all over my body.

My release triggered his, and he was so big I felt each twitch and pulsation as he pumped heat into me.

“I love you,” Rhyder was saying over and over, his mouth so hungry for mine.

My lips felt swollen but I was drunk, drugged, weightless in his arms.

He smelled like that familiar leather and heat and work, and even the sick spiral of the incense didn’t stop me.

My hands were on his shoulders, the muscles feeling like velvet, the tips of my fingers burning up as they stroked his skin, slipping under the collar of his T-shirt to twine around his neck.

And oh Allfather, he wanted me to touch him so badly.

I felt my core begin to ripen again, the incense tendrils wreathing around our heads, hiding us from sight, Rhyder’s cock barely softening before it was hard again.

The long lines of his tattoos seemed to loosen from his body and spiral around my head. Some were verses from the Holy Writ but I saw others were my name, or two hearts, and I felt my own heartbeat pound through them, each pulse strengthening my brother’s unholy obsession.

The world was liquid, it wasn’t raining, but I still felt drops on my skin, a cool glide down my thighs.

And it seemed like my orgasm was endless, wave after wave breaking over me as I tasted my brother’s name in my mouth. Was I saying his name or only thinking it? He tasted like raw heat, a thread of hot, roaring blood. I thought I could feel his spit and blood inside me, feeding a strange beast until I was kissing him back as hard as he was kissing me, my arms around his neck, my hands in his hair, pulling on the leather strap that always held it back.

Surely it was someone else moaning his name, someone else’s cunt convulsing

But it wasn’t

It was me

Rhyder’s cock was unending. Was he simply always hard?

His release felt slick and wet on my thighs; I felt it drip back into my ass as he drove into me over and over again.

I gasped as my cunt convulsed around his cock, and Rhyder was still hard even as I hit my peak again. And again.

Strange figures seemed to swirl out of the smoke, blackened hands reaching for me as my cunt squeezed so tight I wondered if I’d die right here in the woods, wrung full of Rhyder.

Then my brother jerked around with a choked oath, and I felt his blood spatter my face as the claw of a huge bear slashed at his shoulder.

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