Page 115 of Unwrapping Deviance

But she made that impossible.

The low chatter of voices coming up the path has me chucking my phone down on the sofa just as the door opens and Mira walks in.

Clad in Christian’s t-shirt and slippers. Filthy like she’s been forced to the ground and fucked. Hair a wild tangle of twigs and leaves.

But she’s smiling. Her blue eyes are bright and fixed on Christian as he finishes telling her his story.

Then she spots me and her smile turns timid, uncertain ... excited.

“Hi Daddy,” she teases.

“Come here, little doll.”

She starts towards me when Christian grabs her. Stops her. I’m ready to lose my mind and snarl that it’s my turn, when he bunches the hem of her top.

“I want my shirt back,” he says, and fluidly sweeps it up over her head.

My heart skips in my chest as my baby is bared. Stripped to nothing but marked flesh. High, perfect tits. Long legs streaked with dried cum and mud.

“Where’s your clothes, Mira?”

My baby drops her gaze. “I lost them.”

I suck in a breath. My dick throbs. A painful pang so vicious I don’t know how I’m still holding it together.

“You lost your clothes?” My fingers curl at my sides. “You came home on the back of Christian’s bike wearing only a t-shirt?”

“She left a whole mess on the seat she’s going to clean in the morning,” my brother states from the armchair he’s thrown himself down in.

Mira peeks up at me through wisps of hair with such coy innocence, I can feel the tethers keeping my sanity in place snap.

“Get upstairs. Now,” I hiss through my teeth.

She doesn’t argue. Doesn’t ask me why. She starts up. Tight ass swaying. Tits bouncing as she jogs up.

I face my brother once she’s out of sight. Our gazes lock and I see it in his face.

We’re both so fucked.

Whatever chance there ever was of going back, even a sliver of possibility is already ashes scattering into the wind. I was already gone. I’ve known for months that Mira is the hill I’m prepared to die on, but seeing the look on Christian’s face, seeing the dazed, disbelief has me already rearranging the rest of our lives to include three; it may not have hit him yet, not fully, but it’s only a matter of time he realizes there’s no going back.

But that’s a problem for morning. I have Mira to worry about right now.

“I’m going to check on Mira,” I tell him as I start upstairs.

Christian, sitting with his arms hanging loosely along the armrests, filthy top fisted in one hand, nods slowly.

“I’ll start supper, I guess,” he murmurs.

Mira’s in her room, standing next to her bed, still naked. She glances up sheepishly when I walk in and shut the door.

“I didn’t know what you wanted me to—”

I close the distance between us and claim her mouth. I kiss her deep, with every ounce of love I have for her. I pull her close, fold her in my chest when she moans and sways into me.

“I love you,” I tell her. “You make me so fucking happy.”

She smiles with every drop of happiness I feel in my chest. “Going to keep me?”

---