by A. A. Davies
I laugh at that. He’s such a jealous fuck. Who knew?
“I mean it, Aero. Just like your chest now bleeds the word, you’re mine. Branded irrevocably. Now fuck me.”
Looking down at his handiwork, I can see the words bright as the sun. Mine. Scrawled. Inscribed. Forever engraved.
In return, I fuck him.
My hips smack the backs of his thighs as I ram into him. He clenches, and I lift his thighs for more control, watching my bare cock fill him repeatedly.
Pouring more lube all over, making a mess, I angle him more. The orgasm builds and builds, suffocating me, all while exorcising a loud growl I’ve never heard before.
He grips his dick harshly, his knuckles turning white from the pure pressure he’s using. We both groan as we release. His seed sprays everywhere. So much cum squirts out of him like it has been stored his entire life for this.
As I pump continuously, my cum coats the inside of his ass, leaking out all over his bed. My balls are so tight and pained from the exhausting hour-long tease we’ve had. They’re soaked from my cream and coated in lube and blood like a crime scene.
Harley stares at me as I soften, slowing my movements inside him. We both let out sated sighs. Our lips connect again, our labored breathing loud and heated.
“Mine,” I mutter, exhausted.
“Mine,” he argues.
We kiss and kiss, our bodies disgustingly caked in everything. It’s beautiful in its disaster.
“Let’s shower,” I offer. “Together.”
“Will you fuck me again?” he asks, his eyes alight with yearning.
“Pretty sure my cock is spent, Trouble, but don’t worry. Once you move in with me, I’ll hardly leave your tight ass. Best I’ve ever had.”
His face lights up, and I kiss him again, unable to hide the way his happiness mirrors my own.
He bleeds my darkness and infuses it with light.
“I love you, Aero, more than my brother. You’re my fucking everything.”
The words take the air from my lungs, stealing my life and promising me something more valuable than death.
His love.
He loves me.
My heart hammers in tandem of the pulse heading back to my spent dick. It’s a primal feeling. Even knowing I’ve claimed him entirely, taking his body for my own, acknowledging I have his heart fills me with even more pride.
“I love you too, Trouble. You’re my soul.” The words have tears pricking my eyes, and when his connect with mine, they’re trailing with the same emotion.
Completion.
Epilogue
Harley
We ran.
After our shower that night, we packed everything, stole the fifty-grand in Dad’s safe, and left. An old friend from Valley West named Texas and his husband helped us get new identities and a place to stay in a small town in Nevada. They understood our love for one another. They witnessed our passion firsthand, and they’ve kept us safe since.
Both Aero and I work at their bar, Loveless. We’re going to help them grow it, and eventually, after we both graduate college, we’re going to get married.
Married.
My brother and I.
My heart swells at that realization. It’s the last brand we owe each other. It’s been over a year since we left. Since then, Aero has put his name across my chest, matching his almost entirely. We fuck more than necessary, but it’s like we’re in heat, unable to keep apart for long.
We haven’t kept tabs on Mom or Dad. Dad never came after us. I’m sure he knows from the mess we left all over my bed we’ve crossed a path we never want to return from.
“Trouble!” Aero yells from outside our house. Our home is on a five-acre piece of land. The nearest house is five football fields away.
I turn off the video game I’m playing and make my way to my brother.
My lover.
My demon.
He’s leaning against his new Corvette Stingray. It’s all he talks about. He’s so proud of being able to buy it. Between what we make at Loveless and now being a part of Atlas’ and Kenji’s marijuana dispensary, we have more money than we could ever wish for.
I hardly leave the house for more than work now. Aero likes to keep me home to map my body with his mouth. If I didn’t know any better, he planned on locking me here forever to raise the kids he’s been begging me to adopt.
Maybe we will.
I’m only nineteen, but raising kids with my best friend and our friends is better than I could have wished for. Before we gave in, my life felt hopeless, like there wasn’t a reason to continue. He gave me life again, feeding me his love, fulfilling every craving I have.
“Get the fuck over here,” he barks. It’s not cruelly. The glint in his eyes proves it. Closing the distance between us, he grips my throat and hauls me over to his car. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, Trouble. Pull down your pants, and let me see that ass of yours.”
I whimper at his commands, feeling my dick nearly break from its need to escape. In one move, I’m bottomless, waiting for his next order. He turns me toward the hood of his car, pressing his thick erection against the crease of my ass. Forcing me to bend at the knee, he lowers me over the car. The Nevada heat on his hood burns my dick. Pain slices through me, but like the freak I am, I moan in response.
“Spread those pretty thick thighs. Let me see you.”
I adjust and widen as much as I can. The feel of the blade doesn’t surprise me as it kisses my ass cheek. There’s not a part of me this blade hasn’t bit. Aero traces it across both cheeks before he sides it to my balls. I’m rubbing my dick all over the hood of his precious toy in response.
“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized fucking you against the hood of my car, Trouble. We’re missing one vital piece, though.”
“What’s that?” I ask breathily, humming at the palm tracing my hips.
“Those raised hand marks,” he coos, his voice low and heady with lust.
Before I can respond, his palm connects with my skin. and I hiss. It doesn’t take long for the pleasure to consume me after. Aero hits both cheeks several times, and the flame that stirs in my stomach for his cock is inarguable.
“Going to fuck me, Demon, or just cocktease me to death?”
It’s a jab. He likes long spouts of torture before he sinks into me, but now, I can handle all of him, his hot-as-fuck piercing and all. We still make each other bleed every chance we get, and not a day goes by that I’m without a mark from his mouth, teeth, or hand.
I hear the hiss of his zipper as he releases himself. He smacks my ass with his cock, teasing me. “You’ve been a bad little boy, Harley. Now I’ve got to fuck you and teach you a lesson.”
“Please, please, please,” I beg unabashedly.
He rifles around I’m sure for the spare lube packets in his wallet, but then his mouth is between my ass, and I’m pushing against him greedily. He’s ruthless as he tongue-fucks me and leaves slobber for his cock to use.
Lube coats me as he squeezes it. Without stretching or warning, he pushes into me. I cry out. The pain isn’t anything I don’t crave. I wouldn’t be surprised if my ass is forever scarred from how brutal we are to it.
He fills me to the hilt before pumping impulsively. The clink of his knife makes my balls tighten. My favorite place for his torture is against my back, my spine, and when I’m beyond bloody from his elongated lack of mercy. The raised skin from his brand of scars gets me hard every time I see it in the mirror.
We’re dangerous together, but we’re miserable apart even for mere hours.
Whether toxic, dark, or unhealthy, I couldn’t imagine my life without my lover.
My brother.
My everything.
“You’re slacking, Aero. Thought you fantasized for a long—” I begin taunting before he’s holding me down, forcing my face flush with the car as he fucks me harshly.
The metal burns my face, building pressure and pleasure all at once. He ro
cks into me, and we’re both groaning so loudly I’m sure the neighbors a mile away can hear our restless fucking.
“Your mouth makes me fucking mad, Trouble. Makes my cock swell and groan with the need to shut it up.”
“Missed your chance with that, brother.”
“Fuck,” he grunts, spilling into my ass as he thrusts harder and harder. “I love filling this ass,” he says finally after pulling out. His seed seeps from me, leaking down my cheeks and thighs. It’s so fucking hot. He flips me over, staring at me with so much love it’s painful. “Lean back, baby. Let me ease that ache.”
I do.
His release paints his car as I spread wide for him. He sinks to his knees and swallows me back, massaging my swollen balls. Reaching behind them, he teases my sore hole, sinking two fingers in.
The sigh of relief coming from me makes him chuckle around my cock. Pressing down on my prostate, he pops off, making me whimper in complaint.
“Such a slut for me, aren’t you, Trouble?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I repeat as he strokes my pleasure spot.
“Be a good little boy and cum for me then.” He deep-throats me, biting my shaft as he bobs his head all while fingering my ass. I explode in his mouth, and the fucker swallows it all. He doesn’t like to waste it.
“Fuck!” I yell as soon as he sucks off every drop.
“Good little slut, now clean my car, or I’ll make you lick it off.”
I smile at that because we both know I would. As humiliating and shameful it sounds, I would be so fucking hot for him after.
He gives me a look of understanding and a smack on the ass. “Knew you’d like it.”
Then he takes my mouth, kissing every sassy rebuttal he had coming his way. When we break apart, I put on my pants.
As I turn around, I notice my brother on one knee. His eyes—one blue, one green—stare back at me in reverence. It’s the same look of worship he gives me every day.
“Trouble,” he enunciates, his voice low and emotional, “you’re the light to my soul, the cure to my darkness. You’re my best friend, my brother, and my lover. You make me fucking happy and proud every fucking day I’m alive.” A tear leaves his eye, trailing his face perfectly. “I’ve loved you since your birth, and we share the last name in secret, but I’d like for us to get married and be bound in the only way we have left. Will you marry me?”
Tears spill down my cheeks, making me choke up. He smiles sadly, almost like I’m not going to accept, but I bend down, taking the slim black band and putting it on my finger.
“I’ve been waiting,” I muse. “I’d love to marry you and have you in every way.”
He smiles and takes my mouth, stealing my breath away. He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around him. We don’t stop to breathe.
We just kiss.
And kiss.
Endlessly.
Forever.
Harley and his Aero.
Demon and his soul.
Brother and his brother.
The End
About C.L. Matthews
C.L. Matthews lives in lala-landia with her husband and invisible friends. She wants to riot the lack thereof authentic Mexican food in her state, but she’s an introvert at heart. She enjoys tacos, Red Bull, and warm water because she’s crazy. She’s an oddball, and realizes it’s been mentioned before, just go with it. Her joys in life consist of writing unconventional romances, making book covers, causing havoc to her reader’s hearts, and genre-hopping when she needs a change of scenery. She’s a special kind of weird and enjoys every moment of it.
www.clmatthewbooks.com
Buried Truths
Faith Ryan
Blurb
GIDEON
I’ve lived a fairly sheltered life, but I knew it was for the best. My mother’s illness controlled our lives and now that she’s gone, I’m afraid my father will bury himself alongside her. Then he shows up. A connection to my father’s past and my mother’s only remaining family. He may just be the saving grace we need.
BISHOP
My wife and son have been my world for so long, I don’t know how I’ll make it through now that she’s gone. Being strong for Gideon is the only thing I can do. Until my past shows up with an offer I can’t refuse. Feelings I buried long ago threaten to take up residence in my heart once again and shatter the illusion of myself I’ve created.
ORLANDO
It’s taken my sister’s death for me to face Bishop after so many years. I’ve never forgotten or given up hope that we’d see each other again. Their son radiates love and innocence that, like a magnet, pulls me in just the same as he does Bishop. Past mistakes tore us apart, but he is the key to bring us all together. All we need to do is unbury the truths of who we really are.
Chapter One
Gideon
It’s cold and wet. Even the skies wept at the loss of Ophelia Josephine Merrick-Cartwright. The ground beneath my feet is muddy and soft; it sucks at my feet with every step toward the gravesite. My father, Bishop Wayne Cartwright, walks with his shoulders slumped. I’d never seen the man as devastated as he is now. My mother had fought a long battle with cancer and it even surprised the doctors she’d lived as long as she had, but my father had been in denial that the sands in her hourglass were running out.
I wipe at the tears that haven’t stopped since her death. I feel as though I’ve never known a minute without her or her illness. I know I must have had memories from before, but they’ve been obscured by the many doctor’s visits and chemotherapy sessions.
The pastor is chatting with a man when we arrive at the tombstone that marks my mother’s life and death vividly. I’ve never met the man before, but the way my father’s back visibly stiffens and his hands fist at his sides, tells me he has. The pastor excuses himself when he sees us approach.
“Orlando. What are you doing here?”
“She was my sister Bishop; you can’t change that even if you want to. I’m here to pay my respects to her and give you my condolences.” Orlando blows out a breath. “Come stay with me at the cabin. I know you hate me, but I think Phee would’ve liked for us to reconcile after so long, don’t you?”
“This is my wife’s funeral. For God’s sake, Lando, why are you asking me to come home with you now?”
Orlando looks around the desolate cemetery. “Bish, she told me.”
“She told you what? And when?”
“She called me about a month ago, told me she was worried about you and Gideon. She knew she didn’t have long left.” Orlando looks at me for a moment before turning his attention back to my father. “Bish, she told me about the bank foreclosing and asked me to help. This is me helping. You and Gideon can say with me until you can get back on your feet, no matter how long it takes. It’s what Phee wanted, and honestly, I wouldn’t mind having my best friend back after all this time.”
“I don’t need your help.”
My father stomps away, leaving me and Orlando to stare between each other and our feet. He looks like her. The sorrow from missing her eases a bit at that thought.
“I’m Gideon Michael Cartwright,” I announce and offer him my hand.
Orlando’s lips twitch in a half smile as he takes my hand and shakes it. “Orlando Nathaniel Merrick. Do you always introduce yourself by your full name?”
“Mom said we were given our names for a reason. Why wouldn’t I use my full name? If I weren’t meant to use it, why do I have it?”
“You’re Opehlia’s son all right,” Orlando laughs. “But you can call me Lando. Just because you know my full name doesn’t mean you need to spit out that mouthful every time.”
He winks at me and I find myself smiling despite the reason we are here.
“Gid. I mean, you can call me Gid, if you want.”
“Gideon! Get over here!” my father calls for me as if I’m a child.
I sigh and leave Lando to go to my father. Lando is my mother’s brother and I wish I had known about him before. I’
m curious about why neither of my parents have mentioned him before. What could’ve happened to cause a rift that deep? Whatever it was couldn’t be too bad if my mother had reached out to Lando.
“Is he telling the truth? Is the bank foreclosing?” I ask my father as I take my place by his side and he puts an arm around my shoulders in a semi-hug.
“Not now, Gideon.”
I take that as a yes, but don’t confront him about it. I listen to the pastor read his scriptures and prayers. Lando stands on one side of the freshly dug grave while my father and I stand on the other. We make eye contact a few times and I can see the grief in his is easily as strong as mine and my father’s. Tear tracks are visible on his cheeks and I can feel the matching trails on my own face.
Whatever had happened between my father and Lando led him to miss out on his sister’s life. It’s also kept me from knowing any other family outside of my parents. Dad’s parents died in a car accident before I was born, and Mom never talked about her family. I want to know the only family I have left. He’s been kept from me, but I won’t allow him to stay that way. All I’ve ever known was my mother and father’s presence. Being their only child, combined with Mom’s illness, made them overprotective. I was homeschooled and never made any friends, though I tried. I’d just rather spend the time with my father, and my mother when she was feeling well enough. A part of me hopes that I can find the same closeness I have with my father with Orlando.
After we toss our roses on the casket and the first shovel of dirt falls, I head back to the car with my father. My mother is gone, and I’ll grieve her for a long time, but Orlando is very much alive. He’s reaching out to us and I want to meet him halfway. Maybe it will make this transition into a life without Mom easier.