Page 5 of Worse Than Wicked
“No,” she protests.
I jump up and grab her by the shoulders. “Do you have an IUD?”
“No,” she says, trying to twist away. I drag her to the bed and wrestle her clothes open, shoving my fingers into her as deep as I can reach, feeling for it. She winces, but she doesn’t protest. She knows her purpose.
“Then why haven’t you given us a baby?” I ask, spitting on my hand and slicking it over my cock as I loom over her. “My sister pops one out every time she even sees your brother’s dick.”
“Stop,” Mabel protests, trying to push me off. “I can’t.”
“You can, and you fucking will,” I say, jamming my dick into her. “You said we’d be a family. Why don’t you want to? Are you trying to have Baron’s baby instead? There’s no difference. Our DNA is identical. A baby of mine is as much him as it’s me.”
“Duke…” She struggles, but I finish anyway. When I’m done, I roll us over on the bed, keeping myself buried inside her.
That’s when I see Baron standing in the doorway, watching.
“Join, if you want to,” I say. “She was probably thinking about you the whole time anyway.”
Baron strides across the room, grabs the back of Mabel’s neck, and pulls her up. She blinks at me from behind the strands of blonde hair sticking to her tearstained cheeks.
“Tell him that’s not true,” Baron says.
“It’s not,” she whispers.
“Tell him you love him,” Baron orders.
She stares at me a long second. “I hate you.”
“Wrong fucking answer,” he says, shoving her head away. It smacks into my chest, and she whimpers, but he doesn’t care. He’s already undone his belt, and he crawls onto the bed, straddling my legs, and shoves into her ass. She lets out a squeal of pain. He rams in deeper, ignoring her cries of pain.
“You knew what would happen,” Baron growls at her, stabbing into her ass. “You wanted this punishment.”
She doesn’t protest, just lets out a shuddering sigh. I can feel him moving inside her, his cock tearing into her, filling her. It makes me hard all over again, and I push her shoulders down, impaling her deeper onto him.
“Let me up,” I say. “I want to make her cum.”
Baron grabs her hair and drags her up until she’s kneeling on the bed in front of him, her face a twisted mask of pain. He grips her hair in his fist, holding it near his shoulder while he thrusts into her. Her little tits bounce, and I kneel up, sucking one nipple into my mouth and then the other, burying my fingers in her cunt. She’s hot and flooded with my release, and I fuck it into her for a minute with two fingers before I slide down the bed, between her legs and Barons, until I can grip her thighs and lift my mouth to her dripping cunt. I lick from her salty hole to her clit, circling the little nub with the tip of my tongue.
Her body shudders against me, and Baron thrusts harder, cramming her against my mouth. I suck, and she bucks, her thighs quaking. I close my eyes and drink her in, the taste of her like nothing else, like the home I no longer have. It’s here, in her, in Baron, in the smell and taste of us together, the feel of him driving her cunt against my mouth, her smooth skin against my lips, her choked sobs and hot tears.
I slide my fingers into her again, and Baron pumps harder, and she cries out in torment, but I feel her walls clench when we both pump into her at once, my mouth sealed to her clit, my brother’s cock wrecking her until she gasps with pain, begs for relief. Baron shows no mercy, and neither do I. I lick and suck and thrust until she shatters in my mouth, against her will, the orgasm dragged unwillingly from her body that always admits what her mouth can’t.
When Baron’s done, he drops her forward onto the bed, tucks himself away, and leaves the room, leaving us alone together. Mabel is shaking with quiet tremors and soft, moaning sobs. I slide out from under her and crawl over her back, laying myself like a blanket over her. I kiss her salty cheek while I ease inside her stretched hole to add my seed to Baron’s. She’s already loose and dripping with his cum, so I know it doesn’t hurt too much, even though she cries and pretends that it does.
two
Mabel Darling
“Happy six months, Duchess,” Duke says, holding up his glass of champagne. Baron lifts his, and I follow suit. I don’t like drinking, though I’ve done it with them before. Sometimes I still think about the first time, in that magical cave Baron made for me when he was courting me, before I knew his intentions, when I told him my darkest secret.
Or maybe it wasn’t my darkest secret, but my grandfather’s. Maybe my deepest secret was the one I never told him.
Dahlia.
“Our little monster,” Baron says, smiling at me, his eyes warm behind his glasses. “Who would have guessed we’d end up like this?”
“It’s impossible to know that without knowing the predictions of everyone who’s ever seen us together,” I point out. “And most made those predictions without conscious thought.”
“How right you are.” Baron lays his hand over mine, and I force myself not to flinch.
