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“Admittedly, very few.”
“Humanity was already ugly, but now you are forcing women to partner with men under the guise of protection.”
“There is no guise,” I say firmly. “It is what it is, which is a fair exchange.”
“And you’re going to be mine, right? You’ll be my Keeper?”
I give a curt nod because my mind is settled. “Always, though, it will take some explaining.”
Without warning, she falls back on the bed, arms spread. “Oh, zombie—please don’t eat me…”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I figured it was time for a different kind of role-play.” She fights her way out of the sweatpants over jeans combination I put her in for our exercise, then wiggles on the sofa bed. “Oh, no! I’m done for!”
I laugh in a way I’ve never done before, feeling light and free and like the world is as it should be.
“Are you really going to just stand there and stare?”
“Remember what I told you?”
“About what?”
“About how zombies go into a trance and only rouse when stimulated.”
“Oh, my God—who wrote the rules for this apocalypse again? Because that totally sounds like it could be the plot point of a porno. People going around eating random dead dicks only to have their ‘brains’ eaten, and by brains I mean—”
“Yeah, yeah—I get it. I don’t need that mental image. And let’s not revisit this conversation.”
She waggles her eyebrows adorably. “Unless you have something to take my mind off it, I promise nothing.”
I love how eager she is for me. How all her inhibitions melt away with my touch.
“I have a confession to make,” I say as I prowl up the bed. One swift yank and her panties are ripped clean off, revealing her pretty pink pussy.
Her fingers thread my hair ever so gently. “I’m no priest, but I’ll lend an ear to your sins.”
I give her center a firm lick, from her tailbone all the way to her clit. Her body snaps, her cunt pressing against my face.
“It’s bad,” I mutter between sloppy kisses, enjoying the sweet moans that tumble from her lips.
“Tell me…”
I insert a finger into her tight channel. Even when she’s wet, I have to fight my way in.
“I’m a bad man, Brooke. Wicked to the core.”
“You could neverbeeee….”Her voice trails as I curl my finger up inside her.
“I watched you…”
“Watched me?” she moans.
“On the television in your little tutu, dancing for the world to see. I watched you, and it got me hard. I tried to stifle my desire, because deep down, I knew it was wrong to want to fuck my sister. I sent you that letter with the clover, but I could hardly stop myself from jacking off to you, and every time I came, I thought about your firm tits.”
Her face pinches with my confession.
“I wanted to fucking take you, steal you away. You were only eighteen, and all I could think about was your teenage pussy. How good it would feel to fuck it—to own it.”
