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“But the abuse was done in a way that destroyed your trust in the one person you knew you could depend on. If you didn’t depend on him, you could depend on no one. And Cade knew that. Just as he knew he was sacrificing that trust in an effort to save you the physical pain,” she guessed.
“Yeah,” he whispered, seeming to breathe easier. “That was it. The bastard knew what he was doing, didn’t he, Sarah?”
Like a man lost, searching desperately for an innocence forever denied him, but resigned to the cost. Sarah breathed in deeply.
“I would take your pain if I could,” she told him. “If it would ease you, Brock, I would take the pain myself.”
“God no.” He pulled her tighter to him. “No, Sarah, never wish that. I’m sane now, if such a thing happened to you, it would kill me. Do you understand that? I couldn’t survive it.”
“Tell me how to help you then, Brock,” she said, fighting to keep her voice soft, tender. “Tell me how to ease you.”
The front door opened and Cade stepped onto the porch. He was dressed as Brock was, in sweats and nothing else. His dark eyes found them, his pupils flaring, his pants bulging.
“You okay, Brock?” His voice carried little emotion, but Sarah glimpsed a raging pain in his eyes.
“Yeah.” His hand moved, cupping Sarah’s breast with a slow, deliberate movement. “I’m fine.”
Sarah gasped, her eyes widening as she watched Cade’s gaze center on that hand and the plump flesh Brock cupped. She blinked, not just at the arousal in Cade’s eyes, but a softening of the agony and easing of his own lines of grief about his mouth and eyes.
“Brock?” She gasped as the other hand released the belt that held the robe together. “Oh God, I don’t think I can do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything, baby,” he promised her, desolation echoing in his voice. “He won’t fuck you, I swear. Just touch you. Sarah please, just try baby. Just try.”
Brock drew the edges of her robe from her shoulders, down her arms. Cade went to his knees beside the lounger, watching her, his expression so tender she wanted to weep. There was love there. A gentle, abiding, heartfelt emotion that she knew wasn’t reflected to her.
“You tie us together, Sarah,” he whispered, his hand reaching for her breast as her head fell back to Brock’s chest. “Do you understand that?”
“No,” she whimpered, her eyes closing as his hand cupped her breast, his head lowering.
She jerked as his lips touched her. Her breathing became laborious, matching Brock’s, her body responding to the hard length of his cock rising along her back. She tilted her head back to the side, resting it on his shoulder, eyes opening, her breath halting for long seconds at the look on Brock’s face as he watched his brother suckle at her breast.
“You’re beautiful.” His gaze flickered to her. “So damned pretty, Sarah, it breaks my heart.”
She arched into the caress, whimpering as she felt male fingers, not Brock’s, smoothing along her thigh, inching closer to the flesh between.
“Don’t look away.” He turned her head back to him when she would have looked away. “Look at me, baby. Let me tell you something.”
She jerked violently as Cade’s fingers met the throbbing, slick lips of her cunt. His fingers ran through the narrow slit, circled her clit, retreated, then advanced. Each touch a whisper against flesh, an electrical charge of lust.
“What?” she gasped, confused, fighting to hold onto her sanity as she felt the dual pleasure of those experienced fingers between her thighs, the hungry mouth at her breast.
“I would die for him, Sarah,” he whispered, staring down at her, the fingers of his hand tweaking the nipple Cade had yet to administer to. “I would give my life for him, and him for me. And this is the only way I have of proving it. The only chance we both have to feel any affection, any love for each other. Through you. Through Marly. This is all we have, Sarah. Let him pleasure you, just for a minute. Let me watch, knowing the woman I love binds us together. Just let him touch you. That’s all.”
“Marly,” she groaned, her head tossing as the pleasure rioted through her system. “This will hurt Marly.”
She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t escape it. Cade sucked at her nipple, his tongue flickering it heatedly as his fingers traced every bare inch of her cunt. Through the narrow slit, circling the entrance that wept in emptiness, then back to her clit. Slow, sure strokes that destroy any chance of rational thought.
“Shh, I promise, Marly won’t hurt. We would never hurt Marly, Sarah.” Brock’s lips were at her neck, his tongue stroking, his voice whispering over her flesh. “Do you know what it does to me, to see you dazed, helpless in your pleasure?” he asked her deeply. “It eases my soul, Sarah. It eases a part of my heart that never knows light. Never knows warmth. To see you, accepting, loving me enough to give the ultimate sacrifice to my brother. Do you understand that, Sarah?”
God, did he know what he was saying? Did he know he was sacrificing her body on an altar built of lust? Aroused, soothed, knowing he was showing, finally, ultimately, that he could love his brother? Rather than disgusting her, confusing her further, it began to make a strange sort of sense. Then nothing made sense.
“Brock,” she nearly screamed his name as Cade’s fingers penetrated the entrance to her body.
She felt the muscles of her pussy grip him. Hold him. Her juices flowing around his fingers, easing his way as he groaned against her breast. She was gasping for breath, moaning like a demented sex goddess as she felt her body being lowered along the lounger, Cade’s mouth following the movement, his tongue licking down her stomach, growing ever closer to the soaked, slick flesh of her cunt.
“Yes, Sarah.” She looked int
o Brock’s face as he arched her back over his arm, his head bending to her breast, his tongue laving, then covering the nipple as Cade’s mouth covered her clit.
