Page 25 of Ronan
My vision blurs. Knowing she’s naked under there has my cock hardening even more with the desire to breed her again. I should be mad she showered when I asked her not to, but I saw that look in her eyes and know she needed it.
And she needs me. Not Nightbreed, not her older step-brother that secretly wants to fuck her. Just Ronan — her brother. She came to me for comfort.
That realization has my heart rate evening out as I disappear into my room and grab her one off my bed. I may not be fucking her tonight, but she will sleep surrounded with my scent. I’m not strong enough to stop that. “Here. You can also take my bed when you’re ready to go to sleep.”
“You’re pushing it, big guy.” She smiles as she takes it, wrapping it around herself like a tortilla. “I’ll probably pass out in like five minutes on the couch, just leave me there.”
As she curls up, it takes everything to sit my ass down with some space between us. Her toes are inches from my leg and all I want to do is tickle them so she jerks away and I have an excuse to tug her all the way over here.
“So... did he at least pull out?”
What the fuck? I didn’t even know those words were coming out of my mouth until they did, and I realize it’s because I want to hear her say it.
She raises her eyebrows. “Nope. Why do you think I was such a mess? He actually asked me not to take a shower, but I don’t think he has the right to ask me anything at this point.”
She’s right. I don’t.
“Do you not want to talk to him again?”
“It’s not that, I just mean that if he still doesn’t trust me enough to tell me his first name or show me his face, why should I want to please him enough to purposefully make myself uncomfortable?” Atley’s eyes darken a little. “If I ever find out who he is, I’ll send him a bill for you because you’re theone providing aftercare for him and it’s absolutely not your job.”
“I’d do it for free,” I rush out, then take it upon myself to lift her feet up onto my lap and move in a little closer. “I mean, it’s sort of my job.” All of it is my job, but how the hell do I make it right? “I am your big brother, y’know.”
“Yeah?” she asks, a bit of embarrassed sarcasm in her tone. “Do you think big brothers usually cuddle with their sisters and call them good girls after some other guy floods her with cum on both ends? Shitty job, if it’s true.”
Fuck me. She’s really airing it all out, and if I don’t ask follow up questions soon, she’s going to get suspicious. I never let guys near her when we were young whether we talked or not, so I can’t play this cool. “Usually we just go kick their asses, but I’m not opposed to calling you a good girl, Atley. But we both know it’d be a lie.”
“It’s not always a lie,” she argues quietly. “I can be good. I can be the fucking best, but sometimes I get selfish. Sometimes I wanna do things just for me, fuck the consequences. And today I wanted to feel wanted.”
“I know the feeling,” I admit, my fingers ghosting along her ankles as I fight the urge to look up this shirt and see the marks they left behind earlier. “And you’re allowed to. I won’t judge you for what you did tonight or look at you any differently. I’m just worried about you.”
“I’ve always taken care of myself, you know that.“ She sighs softly, wiggling down to give me a little more of her legs. “I feel stupid even feeling like this, but yeah. He might be used to anonymous sex or having his pussy and throat fucking wrecked, but I’m not. And I’m not even important enough for him to tell me his name? Are you kidding me?”
“Sounds... fucked up.” It’s a lame response to how much she’s opening up to me, but what the hell am I supposed to say? “Are you sure he has a pussy?”
Again, lame, but if something like that can’t make her smile, nothing will. Not until she can get proper aftercare.
“You know what I mean,” she laughs, playfully kicking me, yet somehow giving me even more of her legs. I’m nearly to her kneecaps now, just inches away from her very real pussy.
She’s going to kill me. My eyes are locked on the bottom of my shirt, desperate for another peek, but luckily she’s not looking at me. I think.
“Is this the masktok guy from TikTok? The one you told me you were FaceTiming?”
“Nope, totally different guy. I met this one at the gloryhole, actually.”
Lying ass.
I hope she didn’t feel my fingers or see my eye twitch at that damn lie, but I move on quickly. “Busy girl.” Fuck, that was too... gravelly. “You’re getting more action than me.”
Or the exact same amount, only she doesn’t know that. She can never know that.
“I’m kidding. Yes, it’s my masktok guy. Just him.” She wiggles her toes to get me to keep rubbing. “I actually unfollowed all the others. Well, all but one other.”
Jesus Christ, is she fucking with me?
Is this my karma?
“Glad to hear it’s the same guy, because I’m trying to be cool, and you’re pushing all my big brother buttons.” And a lot of other buttons that have nothing to do with my current role in her life, but the role I want to have. “Why’d you keep one?”
