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“I said we’ll do it—I’ll do it,” I said again. I looked at my older stepbrother. “Sorry, Gabriel, but I’m not about to let your pride get us all killed.”
Gabriel’s eyes flashed.
“Zoe, I’m not going to rape you for this fucker’s pleasure!”
“Watch your mouth, boy!” Don Diego gave him a disapproving look. “And who said anything about ‘rape?’ I told you, I don’t like violence against women—you and your brother must be gentle with your little sister. You will ‘make love’ to her, do you see?”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s rape or making love—what you’re asking us to do is still incest,” Gabriel said flatly.
“Yes, yes—of course it is. That is the point!” Don Diego spoke as though my stepbrother was a sulky child who was being deliberately obtuse.
“I’ll do it too,” Christopher said unexpectedly. “I’d rather make love to Zoe than be shot and dumped in a shallow grave,” he added defensively when Gabriel glared at him.
“You must all agree or the deal is off,” Don Diego announced. “Don Diego wants to see both of you making love to your sweet little sister,” he added, frowning at Gabriel.
“Please, Gabriel,” I said softly, before my stepbrother could answer. “Please, this is better than dying. And maybe we really can run away together when this is all over.”
There was a troubled look in Gabriel’s pale eyes and I saw that the idea of us making love together bothered him more than it did me or Christopher. Maybe because he had been raised in the Were culture and had internalized it so thoroughly, this really did feel like incest to him.
“We’ll be taking your innocence—your virginity, little mouse,” he said to me in a low, hoarse voice. “Do you really want to look back on your first time and admit to yourself that it was your own big brother who slid his cock into your tight little pussy and took your innocence?”
“Yes,” I said honestly. “I’d rather it be you and Christopher than have my first time be with that horrible old man—that Moncrieff. Please, Gabriel…”
I took his face in my hands and pulled him down to lay a gentle kiss on his lips. It was the first kiss we had shared, since he hadn’t allowed kissing between the three of us back when they helped me with my partial Heat Cycle. My stepbrother’s mouth felt good against mine and I let the kiss linger before finally pulling away and whispering,
“Please?” once more.
Gabriel sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“All right,” he said, nodding. “I only hope you won’t regret this, Zoe.”
“I won’t,” I said confidently. Then I turned and gave Christopher a kiss too.
My other stepbrother returned the kiss eagerly and I could feel how much he wanted me. Either he didn’t care about the Unbreakable Laws like Gabriel did, or he wanted this so much he was willing to break them without compunction. Either way, Christopher was completely on board.
“Good—that’s very good. Very romantic! Don Diego approves.”
The drug king’s voice drew me back to reality and I broke the kiss with Christopher. The three of us exchanged a glance and then looked at the laptop.
“Now attend to me, please,” the drug king said. “Don Diego has some notes…”
TWENTY-FIVE
I was sitting in the middle of the large four-poster bed, brushing my hair with a hairbrush Lupio had given me and trying to look pensive when there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” I asked, looking up as though I didn’t know.
“It’s just us, Little Sis,” Christopher’s voice came from the other side. “Can we come in?”
“Oh, of course. Come in,” I called back.
It all felt scripted and fake but I tried to act as natural as I could when the door opened and Gabriel and Christopher walked into the room.
“What’s wrong, Little Sis? You look sad,” Christopher said. “Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re getting married tomorrow.”
Gabriel said nothing and there was a dark look on his face, but he walked up to the bed along with Christopher, the two of them looking down at me as I sat there brushing my hair.
All of this was the elaborate “vision” that Don Diego had for his little movie. He didn’t just want to see the three of us fucking—not right away, at least. No, he had dreamed up a whole storyline and had written it down—he had told us proudly that he was up half the night getting it “just right.”
We hadn’t had to memorize a script, but there was a scenario we had to go through together before we started getting intimate and several lines he wanted us to say. It was going to be porn with a plot, scripted exactly to the drug king’s specifications. I had a feeling this was some kind of sick fantasy of his that he’d always wanted to see played out.
