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Fuck me.
“I wouldn’t be afraid of me…yet,” he says.
For some unknown reason, I don’t think he is out to hurt me. I flick my eyes off the knife and look back to Kyson, who sits there, hands in fists on his legs.
“Undress and show him your ass,” Kyson orders.
Should I slap myself to see if I’m dreaming? I’m not really sure what’s happening right now, and I have to work up the courage to do as he says. Being naked in front of Kyson is fine, but I don’t know his brother. Kenzo has always seemed reserved and, might I say, problematic. When you stare into those obscure abysses, you see something deeper in his eyes. Something darker.
“Kalilah, undress.”
My back straightens at Kyson’s words, and I follow his command. I start by kicking off my shoes, followed by unbuttoning my blouse. Then I turn and shimmy my skirt down my ass so they get the full view, and I’m not entirely sure I want to see both of them staring at me.
“See… You know how to listen.”
I don’t respond to his taunt. Instead, I hook my G-string with my thumbs and pull it down slowly, bending over as I do.
“Kalilah.” I look over my shoulder to Kyson as he says my name. “On all fours and face me.” I nod my head and do as he says, then he taps his knee. “Now, crawl to Kenzo. Show him what a good girl you can be.” The part of me that was suppressed for so long with my husband wants to fight back, but the thing is, I know I can. With my husband, I knew what came with wanting to fight back.
A punch, a well-placed kick, or something worse.
Kyson gives me a whole different vibe.
He was supposed to kill me, yet he saved me.
He was supposed to lock me up, yet he gave me the key to his car to go to work.
I’ve been freer with him than I have my whole adult life.
And that in itself, is sad.
So I fucking crawl because I know in the end it will have been my choice.
“Your tits have grown since the wedding,” Kyson points out. “How you fit a flask between them still baffles me,” he adds, never taking his eyes off me. I take each movement toward Kenzo slow and steady. I lift my eyes and see him watching me. There’s no smile on his face, but his lust-filled gaze is intently locked on me.
“Careful love, he bites,” Kyson says.
And I believe him.
So I stop when I reach Kenzo’s shoes and get up on my knees. He opens his legs and I shuffle between them.
“Undo his pants, but don’t touch.”
I do as Kyson says.
With surprisingly steady hands, I reach for Kenzo’s belt and undo it, my hands accidentally touching his lower stomach, and I feel his stomach ripple. When I’ve released the button and lowered the zipper, I hear Kyson say, “Good girl. Now free his cock.”
His impressive length is straining behind his boxers—it’s not like I haven’t seen it already, as he freely showed his dick to me the last time he was in Kyson’s room. I reach in and grip his cock with my whole hand and squeeze before I pull it out. Kenzo’s hips shift almost imperceptibly, and I feel Kyson move in behind me, his hand rubs my bare ass in slow and steady circles.
“Tell me, love, what do you think of his cock?” Kyson asks as he continues rubbing my ass cheek. Each circular motion moves lower and lower toward where I want him to be. I bend, just a little, and he takes the invitation to move even lower. My hand is on Kenzo, but my mind is on where Kyson is touching me.
“Kenzo is not allowed to touch you. Do you know why?”
I shake my head and see Kenzo gripping the knife in his hand even tighter.
“Because he can’t touch what’s mine and I’m not sharing him with you.” A finger slips through my folds and he says, “Oh, you shaved for me.” I did. I stole his razor—I internally giggle—and he’ll find out when he goes to use it again. “But you left me a strip. I like it.” He hums, and I feel him move even closer.
“Start stroking him, love, and don’t freak out.” Kyson hasn’t spoken to me like this before. It’s hot, and I don’t know what to say or do about it. So I start moving my hand up and down Kenzo’s shaft.
