“Fuck, just like that,” I command when he grinds the sensitive head of me. “Gonna come.” It’s so raspy, and I’m sweating from keeping myself at bay so long. He straightens his spine, holding my sac, massaging as he takes me into his throat. The sound of his gasp and choking has me shooting spurts down his throat. He groans over my length as it continues to escape me, filling him.
“Kenjington,” I praise, finishing my last thrusts, then pulling out, rubbing my dick all over his fucked mouth. My seed dribbles down his chin, on his shirt, and it’s everything seeing him like this. His lips are swollen and red, his eyes dilated and sedated, and the tent in his joggers has me so hot.
“That was fucking hot.”
He smirks, not wiping his face as he rises. “Bet you won’t kiss—”
I stop his stupid bet with my mouth, crushing ours together. If he thinks I won’t kiss him after he sucked me that good, he’s insane. I’ve never kissed any of my other toys—they weren’t meant to be intimate, but fuck if I won’t kiss KJ every chance I get.
The cold wetness on his face smears on mine as our lips connect. The saltiness of me mixes with his masculine flavor, driving me mad. He brushes against me, biting my mouth. We thrust against each other, and his tongue fucks my mouth like it’s his job. I’m already hardening again, my body unable to resist him and his effect.
He backs off me a moment later, and we both try catching our breath. “Bedroom?”
Nodding, I remember the last time he was in mine, and my blood boils. “Yours,” I hint at my annoyance. His face brightens with memory.
“Don’t act like you didn’t find it hot that I could only get off because you were there,” he taunts, flicking my nipples. Growling and gripping his wrists, I put him against the wall that I’d just been against.
“If you ever fuck someone else, Rischio, I’ll kill you both,” I admit, balling my fists at mere memories. I grip his throat on each side, loving the feel of him beneath my fingers. “I’ll fucking tear you apart, piece by goddamn piece and limb from fucking limb. You will not be anyone’s but mine. Understood?” He stiffens at my promise, but he’s still rotating his hips as if my jealousy gets him harder. Maybe it does. Sickness feeds sickness. When he’s green with envy, my dick nearly explodes with acknowledgment.
“Bet.” His one-word response has me aching in a new way. One to claim him in the only way left—him on his back and me ramming into him with every ounce of lust I’ve got. I pull his plush bottom lip into my mouth, dragging my teeth across it like he did my dick, and then I’m pulling him to his room. It doesn’t take long, but as we pass the walls of photos, it reminds me of how wrong this is. That we can’t go back anymore.
We’ve made our beds, ones we’ll lie in together.
We crash together as soon as we swing the door open, our bodies forced together by passion and need. He grips my jaw, rubbing tenderly, and then he’s licking up toward my cheek. His teeth dig into me next, making a dangerous grunt to escape me. He’s pushing me to the edge, wanting me to tumble us both over.
Think either of us will survive?
“Shit, shit,” KJ whispers against my lips. We’re too high on each other to make it to the bed. I don’t even shut the door as we stumble to the floor. We make a quiet thud, hitting his laundry. Of fucking course. I’m too focused on how he’s making me feel to laugh, but it’s funny that we’re here again, in a heap of body parts, dirty clothes around us.
“You’re such a mess,” I tease, grinding into him more. He tries finagling his jumper down, making us flesh to flesh. My dick leaks from the initial contact.
“You love that I am,” he returns, biting my bottom lip. He sucks it in, and I groan. His mouth, his fucking mouth. We roll to where he’s on top. He’s finally got his bottoms off, and we’re rutting against each other in earnest. Our dicks rub harshly as hoarse noises leave us both.
“Fuck, yes,” I groan as he trails his tongue down my jaw and to my throat.
“Want to paint you with marks,” he practically begs. “Make sure every fucking kid at Silvercrest know you’re mine.”
“Stop talking and do it,” I goad, wanting his mouth to touch every part of me. He sucks my throat, his tongue lashing me like I’m a bad bastard. Maybe I am—maybe I want to be so he keeps going. Either way, it’s everything I’ve wanted.
As he trails, my body burns. It’s never felt this hot. It’s addicting, being at his mercy. His teeth sink into my nipples, tugging at my spiked barbells.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I praise. His tongue flicks and flicks, and I’m grunting with how amazing our bodies feel thrusting together.
“So good, Atlas. Delicious,” he hums, not leaving an inch bare from his mouth. I’ll be black and blue tomorrow, and the realization has me so fucking gone that I’m surprised I haven’t blown my load again. When he hits my hips, he bites hard. I arch into his mouth as he continues to nibble, lick, and suck.
“Kenji,” I hiss. “Get the fuck up here.” It’s a demand. He smirks, and it suits him. Something I never will get used to. While I’m impatient, he crawls up me slowly, his intent to fuck with me. He must be into edging other than our bet edging. How he hasn’t orgasmed, yet still drives us both insane with a smile, is beyond me.
“Don’t like a tease, brother?”
“Says you when I’m squeezing into that tight ass of yours,” I complain, flaring my nose. Taking in a deep breath, I practically haul him to my lips and take his mouth, stamping them with my own brand.
“Mine,” I groan, then lick the seam of his lips, entering him slowly. He bites and fights my tongue with his own, demanding some control. “Let me fuck you, Rischio.” He nods against my mouth, grinding into me.
Spinning us where he’s pinned, I take my time licking, tasting, and enjoying each part of him. He tastes of man, sweat, and cinnamon. It’s that goddamn coffee he devours. Has to be. When I make it to his engorged dick, I notice how angry it is. My mind remembers that night with Rusty, how he was nearly flaccid until I touched him. Trailing my mouth up the underside of his shaft, he bows upward, a moan ripping from him like he held it in for years rather than minutes.
Kissing his length, I wait for his impatience to get the better of him—it always does. He growls as I tease the slit of his head, flicking it.
“Fucking cocktease,” he bites out, trying to hit me with his rod. I take his entire cock in my mouth. His manly flavor bursts over my tongue, making me salivate. I can’t help but swallow him back, wanting to have him entirely inside me. It’s a strange emotion, since sucking other guys off wasn’t pleasurable for me. But this, right now, I’m about to nut from the action of taking him whole.
“Stop, stop, stop,” he begs. “Need you inside me.”
Couldn’t have said it better myself. Letting him go, I trace his skin with my lips and tongue, creating a pathway to his throat. When I reach my destination, I suck and suck and suck, wanting him tattooed like me. Taking an imprint from my mouth like he’ll have from my cock soon.
After he’s writhing beneath me, making the hottest fucking noises, I stand and head to his dresser, knowing it’s where he stores everything. Finding the lube, I smile. I see condoms and smirk. We don’t need those. We’re one. Connected. Blood.
We’re Grims.
I make my way back to him and watch as he fists his length, squeezing the life out of it.
“Gonna come?”
He grunts. “Not until you’re inside me. Need it.”
His words are short and harsh. He’s on edge. So am I.
I drop to my knees and crawl to him. Lifting his legs from the bend beneath his knees, he blushes. His face is red with embarrassment, but he’s so fucking perfect. He doesn’t have to be ashamed or worried. He’s sexy. Fucking incredible.
“Don’t hide from me. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” A smile tilts, but his face reddens more, almost like he’s not used to compliments. But fuck, I bet every chick wants his dick and every man that hides does
too.
Lowering to his balls, I lick and suck one into my mouth, needing him to feel good. He’s whimpering and I’m going to lose it. It’s such a fucking confidence boost to have someone stunned with pleasure to the point of whimpers.
I uncap the lube bottle as my mouth trails lower. “Ever been rimmed, baby?” God, I hate when people call me that, but it feels fitting for him. My baby. Little KJ. He shakes his head, words not coming out.
“Good. Now I can take another first.” The heady, animalistic pleasure I get from knowing no one’s touched his asshole is too sweet. It’s mine. All mine. To pleasure, to fuck, to taste. I lick a path from his scrotum to his hole, loving that he bucks upward at the initial contact. When I flatten my tongue against the raised flesh, he practically screams.
“Atlas, oh God,” he says with mirth.
“Not God, KJ. Your brother.” It’s derisive, almost.
“Please, don’t stop.” I keep slicking up and down and entering him as he wiggles, trying to clamp down more. I pour lube on my fingers and slowly start to stretch him as my tongue plays with his tightness.
“It’s going to feel so good to fill you. I’m going to fuck you so good.”
“Yes, please. Yes.”
I finally get a knuckle deep, and he tenses, squeezing me. When he relaxes, I add a second. I tongue his shaft as I stretch and stretch. Finally with a third one, he’s bucking against my hands, moaning like a slut. My little slut.
“Going to fuck you now,” I tell him, barely holding my breath.
My chest heaves with anticipation and excitement as I replace my fingers with my cock.
“Fuuuck,” I gasp. “So goddamn tight, baby.”
He mewls, his face pinched in a pleasure I’ve never had the chance to experience. He pushes against me.
“Move, Atlas. Please. Fuck!” He clenches around me, and my balls tighten.
“How does it feel?”
His dopey smile makes me want to fuck him over and over and never stop.
How do we do this? Go to school and act like our lives didn’t change entirely last night?
What about Rusty? We don’t break bets, whether school isn’t in session, he’s scared, or fear of risks. It’s not something we’ve ever done.
Chapter Six
Kenji
Fuck. He’s inside me.
He’s deep and those piercings press against my prostate like it’s their vow. He doesn’t move, just stares at me with this intense awe. His jaw is locked. He must feel what I feel; he’s strained and it’s so hot.
He grits his teeth when I move, wanting him to fuck me hard.
“Don’t be a little bitch, Atlas. You’ve put that cock in me, now use it.” It’s a taunt, but it comes out so breathy that I’m sure he likes it. A smile, not a kind one, takes over his face. He bites his lip, pulling out, then slamming it. He could never deny a challenge.
“Shit!” I yell, loving the bite of pain and intense pleasure his dick brings.
With his metal pressing my pleasure spot, I may release without him touching me. I’m so hard I can see stars. Every move has frissons of ecstasy flowing through me. It’s so good. So fucking good.
He thrusts, his thighs hitting mine like a drum. We rock against each other, both chasing our releases. His growls, even while quiet, sound so strained, filled to the brim with pleasure.
I love it.
Hearing him.
Knowing it’s me who brings him that kind of feeling.
My body sweats with each movement, and I’m so close, so close I might bust.
“Harder,” I plead, watching as his gaze darkens. His purple eyes I love so much glitter with mischief. He pulls out, rolling me on top of him.
“Fuck me harder,” he trades off. I apply more lube and glide down his girthy length, loving the bite of pain each inch brings.
“Yes, Kenjington. Fucking yes.”
It gives me all the motivation I need. I start rising and falling with a force that brings me to loud cries, and my cock, as Atlas grips, pulses.
He rotates his palm, gripping hard, then soft, then hard, and I fucking detonate on a final jab to my prostate. He growls with me, gripping my hip, spreading my seed all over, fucking me from the bottom.
“So good. So fucking good.” He pumps and pumps, and my dick twitches with each upturn. He orgasms moments later, a low hiss escaping his lips. His seed fills me, the hot wetness making my body melt. I fall to a heap on his chest, feeling our heartbeats ram against our chests, wanting to connect like our bodies just did.
He’s my brother, but fuck, he’s so much more. And now that I’ve had him, I’m never going to be able to stop the want and desperation for his body.
And if anyone touches what’s mine, they’ll fucking pay. I’m willing to end any fucker brave enough to try.
Rusty.
Fuck.
That’s another issue I’m going to have soon. Atlas won’t let it go, I know him. He may have dropped it when I went on my knees and sucked him off, but it was a Band-Aid, not a solution.
Bets are sacred for us.
“Baby,” he cajoles. Not ever did I imagine my brother calling me that. Didn’t think I’d be hot for it either, but it has my skin warming. My heart too. “You’re perfect.”
Chapter Seven
Atlas
“Are you coming to the Masquerade?” Tris—my closest friend—asks me as we’re shooting hoops during Fitness. Rolling my eyes at him, I throw the ball to his chest.
“Like Grims have a choice,” I mock, hating that there’s no choice. “Or Society members, for that matter.” He nods in understanding, wiping the sweat off his brow. It’s not out that KJ and I are gay, or even that we fucked around three days ago. It’s not like we want a mark on our chest saying we’re breaking moral, legal, and family rules.
“Asking Blythe?” he offers, raising an eyebrow. Fuck that. If there was any chick to be my beard, it’d never be Blythe Tanner. And I’m not really a fan of Elena’s best friend, Serena, so that’s a no go.
Who needs a cover when my best friend is my twin? We’ll probably go and do stupid shit. Seems to be the norm for us. Before. We aren’t fighting now, we’re much fucking more, but still, will we fall back into our easy banter and able to hang out normally?
He hasn’t said anything since we messed around and I snuck out of his room when he passed out, not knowing what the fuck I’d done and which lines I’d bulldozed over. We’re brothers. Blood. Grims.
Tris smacks my chest with the ball, making me remember he asked a question. Stuffing my internal battle, I shake my head. “Not a fucking chance.”
He laughs, but I know he fucks around with her. The whole fucking school knows. Silvercrest is known for its gossip, rich kids, and drama. I dribble the ball, faking left, going right, then racing for the hoop. Tris is hot on my heels as I do a layup. We both pant as the ball falls and rolls. We’ve been in here for hours, practicing. Well, him helping me practice.
“I think I’m going to ask Lena,” he mutters finally, his hands gripping his waist as he pants. Staring at him, I squint my eyes. I know he loves my cousin—it’s easily distinguishable—but I also know he dropped her, and I care.
“Don’t hurt her,” I practically threaten. His eyes widen a smidgen, then narrow as if understanding how deep my words go. Leaning to pick up the ball, he throws it aggressively at me. When I catch it with a loud thwack, he glowers.
“I’d never fucking hurt her, Atlas. Ever.” I smile smugly, knowing that for the truth, just needing that little reassurance of him saying it out loud.
“Good. Let’s hit the showers. We’re smelling rank,” I imply, getting a whiff of myself. At my house, we have loads of showers, rooms, and shit. It’s not all that surprising. This is the Grim Manor: it’s made up of forty-three rooms, homes a ton of Grims. We’re just lucky to be shut off from the other sectors of the manor. Dad had the walls sealed off in the nineties, thwarting the bloodthirsty family members that wanted his
fortune. Being the eldest heir to Rutherford Grim’s fortune and namesake, he’d always be a target. It’s why most Grims escape the manor, traveling across the world to do the devil’s work and not be murdered by greed.
The things I’ve learned since accepting my fate has been wild, the Grim history being the most insane.
“I’ll hit the one by KJ’s room?” I nod, knowing that KJ only uses his master bathroom.
“See you on the other side, loser,” I yell as we both exit the gym on opposite sides. Tris has been a lifelong friend. We don’t hang out like me and KJ or even like me and Credence—my other cousin—but we’re as close as two kids in the Society could be.
After catching a shower, I towel off and open my joining bathroom door. I’m naked—no need to hide or cover up when it’s my master bathroom and bedroom connected—but as my eyes land on my brother’s, I wonder if I should.
We can’t do what we did.
It felt so fucking right, but god be damned, it epitomized wrong.
“You’re avoiding me,” he hisses through clenched teeth, his eyes roaming my body hungrily. His fists are clenched, eyebrows drawn in, and the tick in his jaw pointing out his displeasure. After his rapt attention to my dick, he licks his lips and stares me down. My cock twitches, coming to life at the mere sight of his hunger.
We fucked up.
I’m so back and forth.
Why isn’t it easier to decide? He can move forward. But fuck, the thought of him moving forward to someone new, someone not me, makes my blood boil. I take the last ounce of my willpower and cover my junk with my heated palms.
His lavender gaze connects with mine. He’s so beyond pissed, and I want to ease that away for him, but I can’t. He needs to go, be free, and not be stuck as a Grim in the Society where cleaning dead bodies is my reality, not just my job.
“We can’t,” I utter. For the first time ever, my voice sounds soft and weak, like a spineless coward begging for scraps.
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