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Her brother had never been hard to read. He lived up to the jock stereotype — blunt, crass, and pushy. She kept his wrist pinned, and wondered what could be on his mind.
~Chapter 8~
She just kept staring at him, questioning him. And maybe be hadn’t thought it through enough. What’d he think she’d do? Drink the wine and spread her legs without being a little brat about him being nice?
All she ever did was give him flak, but he kept thinking back to just how into it she’d been, getting herself off, and he wanted to see her writhe like that on his cock.
He yanked his hand away, moving towards the remote and grabbing it, plunking himself down on the couch. Maybe he could at least get her crawling all over him again, feeling him out. He’d just have to tease her until she did what he wanted.
~Chapter 9~
The sudden change in his demeanor was both strange and reassuring. Because he was back to his old self, ousting her from her place and taking over, without so much as a word.
“Hey, I was here,” she said, out of reflex more than anything. She climbed back onto the sofa, though, as usual, his bulky form made the cushions all sink into his direction. Only her trained grace kept her steady and not teetering his way.
“Shut up and drink your wine,” he chastised her, reaching over with that big, thick arm of his and pinning her down to the couch for a moment.
She struggled, but she couldn’t help it. She laughed a little. He was back to usual, and she brought her tiny fist to his chest.
“I can’t drink my wine if you’re pinning me down, you brute,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
Hearing that laugh from her seemed to lighten him up as well, and he gave her an extra tight hold to the couch for a moment before he finally released her completely.
“Go on then,” he said, his own glass already drained of course.
She picked up the stem of the glass, her body still tilted towards him with his heavy bulk on the couch, scowling as he put on a football game.
She understood why people went to games in real life, but on TV it was just boring and the announcers were all annoying. She took another sip of her wine, though, trying to hold in her annoyance, but it was hard.
She just wanted to reach over, grab the remote, and get back to watching her movie. But she knew what would happen then. He’d pull the remote away, make her scramble for it until he got bored and swatted her away.
Well not this time!
She drank back the reset of her wine, putting the glass aside and then she lunged forward. She had to get the remote back, and she knew she always lost in the past, but this time she had some wine in her and felt more confident about her odds.
Instead of going right for the remote, one hand went to his side, fingers trying to tickle him as she got her footing on the couch and leaned forward with the other hand for the remote
.
“You know I hate watching this garbage,” she said as her hand wrapped around the black object.
Normally her attempts to tickle him didn’t meet much success, but for some reason — perhaps the wine, she thought — she managed to get a grin out of him as she attacked him, her little digits wriggling along his hard, stony muscles.
“Hey, I’m King here, little Princess,” he said in his deep, husky voice, not letting her pluck that remote away from him as he put his other arm around behind her. Instead of shoving her away though, this time he pinned her down, pressing his palm into the small of her back so that she was locked in place atop his lap by his raw strength.
It took her off guard. One of her legs was stretched behind her, trapped between his two limbs, the other one bent at her side, her foot pressed in on the cushion next to his hip. She writhed, but couldn’t push herself up without relinquishing her quarter of the remote.
“Come on! You can have it all Sunday,” she pleaded, knowing that was the good day for football. She’d lived with him long enough to learn that.
~Chapter 10~
Sylvia always that she thought she was so tough. She hated backing down from a fight, especially since she was fairly strong, especially compared to other five foot tall girls. She had good musculature, and she could wriggle out of any hold that Zach put her in, but she could never win.
He was just too much bigger than her, and much more willing to go all the way in their wrestling matches.
He left the remote just where it was, making her grind against his body as he wriggled it back and forth. Never further out of reach, but always just barely at risk of leaving her hand if she didn’t work for it.
And every time she squirmed, she coaxed his cock to fill with just a little more blood.
