Page 62 of Unwrapping Deviance

Mira puts her hands over mine and pulls them down. She drags the material free. Bares herself for me.

And oh. My. God.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

Every line is painted with teasing hints of lights and shadows. Every curve outlined. The mounds are generous globes sitting proud over a smooth belly. The nipple sharp, pink buds I am dying to touch. To tease.

To bite until she screams and wears my mark for days.

I have no memory of letting go of the dress, of my hands being free until she’s captured my wrist and brings my palm to her chest.

The panic is immediate.

I snatch my hand back, ignore her look of hurt when I take a step back.

If I touch her, even a whisper, I’ll have her on the bed. I’ll have her under me, my cock deep in her cunt. No foreplay. Not an ounce of gentleness. I’ll fuck her until I break her. Then give her to Christian and let him use her before I take my turn again, maybe even while he’s still inside her.

“Get to bed, Mi,” I growl.

I don’t wait for a response when I pivot on my heels and practically sprint for the door.

But I know it won’t make a difference. The image of her standing in a purple puddle of her dress, covered in nothing but a pair of soft, blue panties — she must have changed the ones she’d soaked through earlier — will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Christian is sitting in the armchair, Mira’s book open in his hands. His eyebrows are at his hairline, but I’m too pissed off and fucking horny to give a shit.

“Do you know what your little girl is reading?” he taunts, tilting the cover, but never taking his eyes off the page. “Fuck me, she is a little deviant.”

My brain drifts back to Mira just up a single flight of stairs, naked and wet, waiting for me to shove her face down on the mattress, hand clamped into the back of her neck as I fuck her tight ass. Her sweet cries of torment muffled in the sheets as I ruin her holes.

“Hey, are you listening?”

My annoyance spikes at the interruption of my daydream. I glare at my brother.

“What?”

He holds up the fucking book like it’s supposed to mean something. “Have you read this?”

It takes me a second to register the butterfly or moth on the bright red and orange cover.

“What about it?”

He turns it so I can see the dozens of folded corners. “This book is about a couple of stepsiblings doing a whole lot of unholy acts. I meanunholy!He stalks her. Sits outside her bedroom window to watch her fuck a dildo. He chases her with a knife, wearing a mask. Then he fucks her. He fucks her a lot. There’s one page,” he pauses to find it, “she’s at a cabin or something, and he breaks in, chases her through the woods naked.” He slaps the book shut with a smack, his eyes wide. “I learned things, Danny. Things I didn’t even...” he blows out a breath. “Do you think she wants this stuff? ‘Cuz I’ll fucking chase her. We have miles of wilderness behind us and I will ... fuck. I didn’t even know I’d be into the whole mask thing, but fuck me...”

He’s staring at the book again like he just found the meaning of life. I would have been amused; except I already knew the kind of things Mira reads. Some aren’t as discreet in the covers. Others, she gets so red in the face I can’t help picking up the book to see what had her blushing so hard. Some even had my eyes widening.

But yes, my Mira is a twisted, little thing. At least, she reads enough about them. Not sure if she would actually want to experience any of it; I’m too afraid to ask.

“Have you asked her?” Christian asks.

I shake my head. “I’m not asking.”

I don’t want to know. If she tells me she wants all those things in her books ... I’ll lose my fucking mind. I’ll never be able to control myself.

“I’m asking.”

“No, you’re fucking not!” I snap, marching around the sofa to snatch the book from him.

“Hell yes, I am. He fucks her on the handle of a knife, Daniel. I need to fucking know if Mira wants this.”

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