Page 17 of The Parolee


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“I should’ve done it sooner,” Torin said.

The moonlight fell across his face, the blood still a bright splash.

Without thinking, I spat in my thumb and raised it to his cheek. But with the first touch of my fingers on his skin, rubbing across the splash of blood, I heard a low noise break from his throat. It was like nothing I’d ever heard before—low, feral, pained, greedy.

I raised my frightened eyes to his and he caught my wrist in his big hand.

“Torin,” I breathed.

“Oh sister,” he said. “I like that.”

My breath felt like shards of glass in my chest.

“No,” I said. “You can’t. . .you can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” he asked, pulling me against his chest.

“I’m your sister,” I said.

He moved like a flash, flipping positions with me so that I was the one with my back against the wall, his legs and body pressing me and trapping me in place.

“Yeah,” he said. “That means you’ve been mine for a long time.”

“You just got out of prison,” I said angrily. “Don’t you want to go sow some wild oats or something? Hit the bars?”

I knew it was a longshot, and he put both hands on either side of my face. “No,” he said. “The only thing I want in the whole world is you.” Then he bent down and kissed me.

There was nowhere for me to go, trapped against the wall in the dark. My brother’s big body pinned me, and I felt the thick length of his cock pressing against my belly as he kissed me.

His kiss was entirely too heated for a brother. And the noises ripped from his chest shouldn’t come from a brother.

I tried to push him away, but he only kissed me deeper, his tongue in my mouth, tangling with my own, raising my blood so it flamed through my body.

I tried to take a breath, wiggle away, but it was impossible. He smelled like cigarettes and the sharp iron tang of blood. One of his hands moved to curve around my neck, and I had to stop the noise that threatened to rip from my own chest, his big hand tight on the back of my neck, sending the heat flaring through my body.

“I said I would wait until you were 18,” he said, breaking the kiss. “And I did. But now I’m here to get you, Laoise Reilly, bring you home with me so we won’t ever have to be apart again.”

My lips felt numb with how he had kissed me.

I felt my core pounding and I tried in desperation to reason with him. “Have you ever even kissed anyone else?”

Torin’s fingers were at my throat, running down my shirt. I felt my nipples harden under his fingers as he ran them across my breasts, gently rubbing them through my shirt.

I gritted my teeth to stop my breath from hitching, let my brother see how he affected me.

“Why would I ever want any other woman?” he asked, his hand running down the curve of my belly to the band of my skirt. “It’s always been you. You’re the only one who has ever made my cock hard and you know it.”

“No, Torin, no!” I cried softly, trying to twist my body away. What if someone came out and saw us together in the dark?

“I can’t stop touching you, sister,” he said. “You’re mine to touch now.”

His fingers skimmed down my panties until they were at the apex of my sex. I bit my lip as his other hand tightened on the back of my neck, his mouth falling greedily to my throat. His lips felt like they branded me. His fingers slipped further down and I felt two press into my wet cunt.

“God, Laoise,” he said. “You’re so wet for me, baby girl. You’re so ready.”

I’m not your baby girl anymore! I wanted to shriek. But I didn’t trust my own voice not to betray me as he brought his fingers out, then curled them inside my wet heat again, the noise loud in the quiet alleyway.

I suppressed my moan, but my head fell back and my brother caught it.

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