Page 15 of Insane Obsession

“They were no fun,” B whines. “Can we turn on the Christmas lights? It’s the most beautiful time of the year.”

“Christmas lights?”

“Have you not seen our Christmas lights before?” I ask. “You didn’t live in that room last December, did you?”

“No,” Finn whispers. “I didn’t. I lived in my grandma’s trailer.”

“All alone,” Bran sings. “He will never be alone anymore, right, Prince?”

Finn sucks in a breath, shivering when I pull an arm around him in the darkness. “That’s right, brother. Why don’t we show him his new room first?”

We guide Finn around the corner to another wing of our home, then stop in front of a closed door. “Go on. Open it.”

Finn puts his hand on the nob, then hesitates.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he murmurs. “I just—nothing.” He pushes open the door.

“Now, Ringo,” I mutter. “If you want to make an impression, press that button.”

Finn flinches at my words and blindly tries to shoulder past us in an attempt to escape the room. Grabbing him by his nape, I keep him close. Then B presses the button. Everywhere around us, Christmas decorations come to life.

Finn blinks, eyes sweeping the entire room. He gasps. “What is—is that…”

The walls are filled with images of him. Pictures we secretly took of him as he sat in our garden, drawing the asylum.

“You. Yes, flower,” I say. “We found you like this last year, and you drew our attention.”

B chortles. “Turned out you lived in that house on our land. It didn’t take us long to discover more about you.”

“More about me?” He gapes.

I trace the lines of his parted lips. “Precious, damaged flower. We will make the weed pay.”

“Why don’t we play a little game?” My brother proposes. Him and his damn games. “There’s so much you want to know. Andthere’s so much we want from you.” He winks at me as he passes me by.

“A game?” Finn sounds apprehensive, but he lets B push him against the wall as I approach them.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you are edible this way,” I growl in his ear. My palm cups his erection, and his eyes dart between me and my brother as we brush our hands over his chest, our mouths against his throat.

“Let’s exchange questions and kisses. Let’s undress the truth and our bodies,” B murmurs. Finn’s cock jerks at those words, despite his whimpers.

“I’ll begin,” I hum. My teeth nip at Finn’s delicate skin, and I suck, creating a beautiful mark. I seal it with a lick, then squeeze his cock, making Finn gasp. “Laura DiSanti was our grandmother.”

He gasps. “Yourgrandmother?”

“Hmm. Now, let’s continue our visit.” We peel Finn off the wall and hold him in our middle as we continue down the corridor.

We have hung drawings and photos against the walls. Some are old, found during our many scavenges at the other side of the wall, and some are made by ourselves. “Our family purchased this property in remembrance after the asylum closed.”

“Remembrance?” He halts. “Wait a minute. Are you the children of herbaby?”

“We are.”

We then lead Finn to the bathroom. When we walk through, our flower gasps at the enormous bathtub with white with silver tiles.

Next is our gaming room. The screen is still on, but instead of broadcasting Fortnight, the security cameras have been activated. Together with my brother, we push Finn onto the spacious couch. His eyes land on the TV immediately.

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