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When my orgasm splinters inside of me, it feels like my body has been taken over, and all I can do is sit back and watch it all unfold. The entire time he’s fucking me, Oz keeps talking, telling me over and over again how I’m his, how good I am, how perfect I feel, how beautifully I’m taking him, and how sexy I am.
Every word builds me higher and higher, the praise almost as intense as the way it feels when his dick slides home, filling me until it’s all I can think of. I come a second time, almost before the first release has faded, and my vision dims while the world slows and everything sounds like we’re underwater.
I can hear Oz talking, but his words become vague and distant. When he collars my throat, everything bursts back to life, and the sounds of our breathing, pleasure, and the wet slap of his dick pounding into me makes an erotic soundtrack that I’m not sure I’ll ever forget.
“Take it, Little One, take my cum,” he growls, slamming into me as he chases his own release, finally filling me with a long, low growl.
“Mine,” he snarls, tightening his hold on my neck until each breath he allows me feels like a gift.
When he comes, he presses his lips to mine, kissing me like I’m everything he ever wanted or needed, and as much as I try to fight it, I do feel like I belong to him, like everything we’ve shared in the last hour has fundamentally changed both of us.
It was only sex. It shouldn’t have the power to alter anything, but by the time he pulls away from my lips, our pants coming in perfect unison, nothing feels the same, and I have no idea what to do about it.
“Do you get it now, Etta?” he rasps, his voice gravelly and low.
“I…” I trail off, because what can I even say?
“You’re mine now, Little One. You need to let Octy know you can’t live with her. She can come and stay on the row until she finds somewhere else. Plenty of my teammates have spare rooms she can use. You can work from home once the baby gets here, and I’ll cut back or retire if you want.”
“What are you talking about?” I whisper, exhausted and wrung dry from the emotional whiplash I’ve felt since I heard him come through the front door.
“I can’t move down into town, it’s too far away from base, so you’ll stay here with me. Octy can’t move in with us because I plan to keep you naked as much of the time as I can and my dick inside of you as often as you can take me.”
“Oz, no, this can’t…this is all too much,” I argue breathlessly.
“No, this is exactly right,” he says confidently as he gently cups my cheek.
“You sound crazy. I’m not pregnant, I’m going to live with Octy. I have a job.” My protests sound and feel weak, even to my own ears. For the millionth time, I wish I was bolder, louder, more forceful. Maybe then he’d hear me.
Tilting his head to the side, his face changes into a terrifyingly intense mask that is far too reminiscent of the angry expression that permanently coated his face whenever I saw him when we were kids. Internally backtracking, I start to wish that he hadn’t heard me. I should have waited to say all this until we weren’t so close, when his dick wasn’t inside of me, when I could run and hide. I’m not worried that he’s going to physically hurt me, but words can be just as painful, and pinned beneath his body like this, I’m a prisoner without any means of escape.
“If you’re not pregnant yet, you will be soon. Your cunt is full of my cum, and in case you forgot, that’s how babies are made.” His voice is low, but his tone is steely and determined.
“I need to get a Plan B,” I whisper.
“No.” The single word sounds like it’s been ripped from his throat, and I recoil, trying pointlessly to shuffle out from beneath him.
“Can you let me up, please?” I ask pathetically.
“No, I like you here, under me, full of my cock and two loads of my cum.”
“Oscar, please.” I’m begging, but I’m not ashamed. Oz has clearly lost his shit, and if I need to debase myself to get out of this situation, then that’s what I’ll do.
“Am I hurting you?” he asks, and for the first time since I said us being together was crazy, I see a crack in his anger.
“No, but you’re scaring me,” I admit, sounding like the little girl I was the last time we saw each other, when frightening me was his favorite thing.
His hand is trembling a little when he reaches for me, gently stroking my face. “I don’t believe in any of the love at first sight bullshit the Barnetts spout. But I know that the moment I saw you step off that bus, I knew I’d never be able to walk away from you. I won’t let you go, Etta, not now that I’ve found you. Look me in the eye and tell me this feels wrong to you. Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t like to do what I tell you, that you don’t like it when I tell you that you’re my good girl. That you didn’t like the way I fucked you and filled you with my cum.”
I part my lips to deny it all, but nothing comes out.
“I’m glad you didn’t try to lie to me, Little One,” he praises, and the words send a gust of warmth flushing through me.
“Oscar, you’re my stepbrother.”
When he smiles, it softens his entire demeanor. “No, Etta, I’m just yours.”
6
