by EL Anders
“Mom did it the year before she died,” I said shortly. “If you’d come around more often you might have noticed.”
“I couldn’t.” He turned to face me, his handsome face twisted in a look of regret. “I wanted to, Lexie—believe me I did. But I couldn’t come see you while Mom and Dad were still alive. Not after…” He shook his head. “I just couldn’t.”
“Why not?” For some reason his words seemed to tap into a deep well of hurt inside me—a reservoir of anguish I hadn’t known existed until now. “Why, Lukas? I know Dad died suddenly and you two still weren’t talking when he went. But that last year with Mom was really hard. She had a stroke and she could barely talk…” I had to turn my back for a moment to compose myself. God, what was wrong with me? I was never this emotional!
“Lexie?” he asked hesitantly.
“She asked for you, you know.” My voice came out sounding muffled and weak but when I turned around I tried to keep my expression calm.
“She did?” Lukas’ face was hard. “What did she say?”
I frowned. “It was difficult to understand but mostly…mostly I think she was trying to say she was sorry for something. I…I told her I would tell you if I ever saw you again.” I looked down at my feet, encased in shiny black leather Prada pumps that hurt but made just the right statement with the slim black pencil skirt and severely cut black suit jacket I was wearing. I had the sudden urge to kick the painful shoes off and just go barefoot but I looked up at Lukas instead.
He was watching me with real pain on his face—a genuine emotion that surprised and moved me. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I know you don’t understand. But I came here to explain. I hope after tonight we’ll know where we stand.”
That sounded vaguely ominous but before I could say anything else he came forward and hugged me—surrounded me, really, since he was so big.
If I was startled by his embrace, my reaction to it surprised me even more. I actually hugged him back. I put my arms around his waist and buried my face in his broad chest, not caring that my red lipstick might be staining his collar. Even though I was wearing heels Lukas still stood a head taller than me and the feel of his arms, like warm iron bands holding me close, seemed somehow completely perfect and right. I breathed him in, filling my lungs with his spicy scent and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I let myself relax.
“Lexie…Lexie,” he murmured in my ear, his deep voice soothing. He was rocking me gently, swaying to some music only he could hear. For a moment I felt like we were dancing. “I’ve missed you so much. So very, very much.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” I said, nuzzling closer to press my face against the warmth of his throat. I liked the rough scratch of his whiskers against my skin. No matter how often he shaved, Lukas always had a five o’clock shadow. “Never calling,” I continued. “Never coming around…”
I had a vague idea that I should have let go of him by now—our hug had gone on much longer than was really proper between a brother and sister. But somehow I just couldn’t bear to stop holding him. Being near him made me feel better…about work, about the strange changes I’d been going through, about everything.
It was exactly the way I’d felt when we were kids and I would run to him with a scraped knee. Lukas would always gather me close in his arms and kiss the hurt spot and tell me a silly story or sing me a song until I was laughing instead of crying. I hadn’t had that feeling of comfort and safety from my older brother in a long time. A very, very long time. And I was surprised at how much I still enjoyed it.
“Mmm,” he held me tighter, his voice rumbling through me. “You smell good.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know why. I haven’t put on any perfume today.” I’d been in a hurry that morning and had somehow skipped my usual spray of j’latique.
“You don’t need perfume.” He inhaled deeply, rubbing his hands up and down my spine in a way that was both soothing and pleasurable.
I was beginning to get a little uncomfortable with how comfortable I felt. I know that doesn’t make any sense but it’s the best way I can describe it. It seemed wrong to let myself melt against him this way, wrong to feel so good in his arms. I tried to think of the last time I’d hugged him—of the last time I’d touched him in anything more than a very formal way and drew a blank. Could it be that we hadn’t hugged each other since we were kids? Was that normal? Was what I was feeling now normal? What exactly was I feeling?
“What are you thinking?” he murmured. His warm breath tickled my ear and sent a shiver down my spine. “What’s wrong, Lexie?”
“Nothing,” I said a little too fast. “Just…wondering when the last time I hugged you was.”
“Right before they sent me away to that damn military school,” he said, surprising me. “Remember? The car was waiting to take me to the port and you came running out to hug me. You were supposed to be in school but you skipped that day, just so you could see me off.”
“Of course,” I said as the memory came flooding back. “I got in so much trouble. They had to pull us apart because I didn’t want to let you go. We were both crying but you were pretending not to. How could I forget that?”
“I couldn’t.” Lukas held me even tighter. “I’ve carried the memory of it with me for years.”
“You have?” I drew back a little to look at his face but there was none of the sharp cynicism or sarcasm I’d come to expect from him. Only complete sincerity.
“Of course.” He looked back at me, his eyes holding mine, making it impossible for me to look away. And then I shifted my weight and felt something hot and hard brush my thigh. What the hell? Was our hug turning him on? Was it turning me on? I jumped away from him, ending the overlong embrace abruptly.
“What’s the matter, Lexie?” He arched one black eyebrow at me and just like that, the sarcasm was back. “Something bothering you?”
“No. No, of course not.” My cheeks were hot but there was no way I was going to admit what had really caused me to stop hugging him. I’d probably imagined it anyway.
Lukas gave me a knowing smile. “You’ve grown,” he said, his eyes flicking over my breasts which were straining the buttons of my jacket. “Have some work done?”
“Of course not.” I crossed my arms over my chest protectively. “I’ve just been…having some problems lately.”
“Problems? What kind of problems?”
“Nothing you’d understand.”
He frowned. “You might be surprised.”
“By you? I doubt it,” I snapped, moving past him. Fond childhood memories not withstanding, our moment was officially over. “Was there something else you wanted, Lukas?” I asked. “I’m tired. I want to get a shower and go to bed.”
“Just wanted to see you. And talk to you.” He frowned. “But if tonight isn’t good…”
“It’s not,” I said. I poured myself a scotch from a crystal bottle on the rosewood bar and knocked it back. Fire bloomed in my stomach and I looked up at him, my eyes watering from the stinging alcohol. “It’s really not.”
He shrugged. “All right then—another time. You go on to bed, I can let myself out.”
I felt suddenly guilty. “It really is nice to see you again,” I said grudgingly. “And about what I said—I know you didn’t get along with Mom and Dad. I just could have used some support.”
“I know.” Lukas’ voice had gone soft and deep again. “And I’ll never forgive myself for not being there for you, Lexie.”
I sighed. “It’s too late for apologies now—just forget about it. And now I am dying for a shower. So if you’ll excuse me…”
“I’ll go.” He started for the front door. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Sure you will. I probably won’t see you again for another whole year. But aloud I only said, “Sure. We should do lunch.”
“It’s a date.” He flashed me a blindingly white smile and I found myself smiling back. It was easy to forget how charming Lu
kas could be when he put his mind to it. Especially since I saw him so rarely.
Giving him a little wave, I headed for the bathroom. But as I heard the front door thunk softly shut, I couldn’t help feeling a little sad. Who knew when I would ever see my big brother again?
Chapter Three
The minute I got into the bathroom I couldn’t wait to get out of my restrictive clothes. Popping open my suit jacket I pulled it off and then yanked the white silk blouse I was wearing out of the waistband of my black pencil skirt. I slipped the little pearl buttons free of their loops and shrugged off the blouse before turning my attention to my front-hook bra.
This was the hard part.
Unclasping the hook, I pealed the cups of the bra away from my breasts as carefully as I could. But though I tried to be gentle, the pain was still excruciating. God, why did it hurt so much? My nipples were dark red and throbbing and the strange honey wasn’t just leaking from them—it was flowing. Thin shining trails of the sweet, sticky stuff made their way down the undersides of my full breasts and dripped to the hand cut tiles below. The sight was both frightening and obscenely beautiful somehow—as though I was some kind of a fertility goddess unable to control her overflowing fruitfulness.
“God,” I whispered, looking down at myself. “What is wrong with me? What’s going on?”
“They need to be sucked.”
The familiar masculine voice made me look up and clasp my arms over my naked breasts protectively. To my horror I saw Lukas in the mirror, right behind me. His eyes met mine for a moment and then flickered down to my full breasts.
“Lukas—what’s wrong with you? What are you doing here?” I demanded, whirling to face him, still trying to hide my breasts with my arms. The feeling of anything rubbing against my tender nipples was excruciating but there was no way I was going to let him see me naked.
“They need to be sucked,” he repeated, coming closer. “By someone who knows how.”
“What are you talking about?” I wanted to take a step back but the edge of the countertop was right behind me, making it impossible.
“You have to relieve the pressure. It’s the only way to ease the pain.” He was standing right in front of me now, his broad chest almost brushing the arm I held over my breasts. “You know that, don’t you, Lexie?”
“What do you know?” I demanded, looking up at him. “What do you know about what’s going on with me?”
“Everything,” he murmured. “And I’ll tell you…if you let me help you.”
“What do you mean by ‘help?’” I looked at him suspiciously.
“You know what I mean, Lexie,” he said softly. “Let me ease your pain.”
“Y-you mean you want to…want to…” I couldn’t make myself say it.
“Suck your nipples. Yes,” he said simply but there was a flame burning far down in his black eyes, a hunger so vast and deep and wide it was like a huge dark ocean flowing inside him.
I leaned back, trying to make some room between us even though the granite edge of the countertop dug into my lower back. “For God’s sake, Lukas, you’re my brother.”
“Which is exactly the reason why I’m the only one who can help you.” His voice was still maddeningly calm. “The only one who can make it stop hurting.”
“You’re not making any sense.” Since I couldn’t get away from him, I turned my back instead, facing the mirror. But he was right behind me, looming over me in a way I couldn’t ignore.
“I know I’m not but I can explain. First, though, you need to let me help you.”
“Why should I let you…let you do that?” I snapped, frowning at him in the mirror. “If all I need to do is relieve the pressure, I can manage myself.”
“No, you can’t,” he growled softly. “The nectar’s too thick to be pumped out manually.” He looked at me intently, catching and holding my eyes in the mirror. “But you know that, don’t you? Because you’ve already tried.”
Unfortunately, I had. There was no breast pump on the market, either manual or motorized, that could come close to drawing the syrupy, sticky honey from my breasts. The stuff Lukas had called ‘nectar.’
“Let me help you,” he said again. He was right up against me now, his broad chest against my bare back. I could feel his body heat like a line of fire down my spine and the warm scent of his skin filled my senses.
“No,” I said, but my voice sounded uncertain, even to me. “No, I—”
“They hurt all the time, don’t they Lexie?” Reaching around me, he pulled my arms gently away from my chest, baring my over-full breasts and aching nipples. “The pain just gets worse and worse and the nectar won’t stop flowing.”
“How…how do you know about all this?” I met his eyes in the mirror. “How?”
“I just do,” he said simply. “And I’ll tell you everything. But you have to let me help you first.”
I had no idea what to do. On one hand, it was wrong—utterly and undeniably wrong—to let my big brother suck my nipples. On the other hand, he seemed to have some kind of information about the strange changes going on in my body—information I desperately needed. And my breasts and nipples did ache horribly.
Oh God, I shouldn’t do this. No way in hell should I even be considering it! But I needed to know. And even more than that, I wanted the constant, never ending pain to stop.
“Lexie?” he murmured, his large hands sliding down my arms to cup my bare breasts. His skin felt warm against mine, his fingers looked long and skillful and knowing.
“All…all right,” I whispered at last. “But not because I want you to—because it hurts. Hurts so much.”
His black eyes, which had been blazing at me from the mirror as he waited for my decision, softened immediately. “I know it hurts, Lexie,” he murmured, turning me to face him. “But that’s okay. I’m going to take all the pain away. Here.” Putting his hands to my waist, he lifted me easily to the countertop, sitting me to one side of the sink. “There,” he murmured. “Now I don’t have to stoop too much.”
That sounded ominous to me—as though he was planning on doing this all night or something. “Just…make it quick,” I said nervously. “How long is it going to take, anyway?”
“Depends.” He traced one swollen areola gently with his fingertip, making me jump. “How long have you been leaking?”
“About a month,” I confessed.
He shook his head. “A whole month? I misjudged the time. I should have come earlier.” Leaning down a little, he placed a soft kiss on my right nipple. “I’m sorry you’ve been waiting for me so long, Lexie.”
“I haven’t,” I protested rather breathlessly. “And you’re not supposed to be kissing me or anything—I thought…thought you were just going to suck.”
“And I will.” He placed a kiss on the left nipple too and I gasped as I felt his hot tongue flick out and bathe the aching bud. “But I want to take my time. I’ve been waiting for this for a long…long time.”
I frowned at him, my heart skipping nervously in my chest. “You’re my brother, Lukas,” I reminded him pointedly. “Are you honestly saying you’ve been wanting to…to…”
“Go on and say it.” His black eyes flashed with amusement and he lapped gently at the other bud. “Can I honestly say I’ve been wanting to suck my own little sister’s nipples? Yes.” He looked me in the eyes. “And you might as well know that’s not all I want to do to you either, Lexie. But it’ll have to do for now.”
Before I could ask him what he meant, he leaned down and took my right nipple between his lips. I gasped as he sucked it, drawing as much of my breast into his mouth as he could. There was a sharp pain at first and then it eased to a pleasurable ache. Then, as Lukas sucked, the ache faded and the pleasure grew. I could actually feel the pressure in my full breast easing and at the same time, the feeling of his hot mouth on my nipple was sending sparks of desire straight to the spot between my thighs.
I squeezed my thighs firmly together despite th
e ache in my over-sensitive pussy. I wanted to look away, to not watch as he sucked and swallowed, nursing at my nipple to ease the pain. But somehow I couldn’t stop watching. His dark head bending down, my tender nipple completely engulfed in his hot mouth, the pleasure in his black eyes…The sight of my big brother sucking my nipples was a picture I knew I would never get out of my head. Ever.
It seemed to take forever. After he finished with the right, he moved to the left and then went back again, as though to make sure there wasn’t any more. I continued to get hotter and hotter until I was crossing and uncrossing my legs every other minute. I was gripping the edge of the counter so hard I was certain it would leave a groove down the center of each palm. But it was either that or bury my hands in his thick black hair and urge him on—and I wasn’t about to do that.
I tried closing my eyes for awhile, tried to close out the sight of my big brother’s tongue lapping my sensitive buds, of his sensual mouth sucking my nipples deep and hard and long. But that only seemed to heighten the sensation and make things worse. I began to wonder if I could come just from having my breasts played with. And if I did, how would I ever live it down? Could I ever forgive myself for having an orgasm while my own brother sucked my nipples?
At last he looked up and licked his lips. “God, your nectar’s sweet,” he murmured. “So sweet and hot and wet.”
“Thank you,” I said hesitantly, not sure what else to say. “I…I wasn’t sure about letting you, uh, suck them at first. But they do feel better now.” And they did. The ache was gone and my nipples weren’t horribly sore anymore. I realized now that I had been in so much discomfort it had been hard to think. With the constant dull ache gone, I felt like myself again.
“You’re welcome.” He licked his lips. “And now I’m sure you want an explanation.”
“Yes,” I said, glad to be back on firmer ground. “Tell me what you know. Everything you know.”
“I will. But it can’t be very comfortable for you to stay sitting on the sink. Why don’t we go back to the living room?” His eyes flashed. “Or better yet, the bedroom.”