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“I need a drink,” I said innocently, trying to pull away from him. “It’s thirsty work sucking your cock.”
My brother’s head had been against the seat, the muscles in his throat working, and now his eyes snapped down to me.
“Lele,” he growled warningly.
“So thirsty,” I said again, and his brows drew together.
Torin’s big hand shot out and gripped my jaw, prying it open as he leaned forward menacingly.
“If you’re thirsty, open up, baby girl,” he said, and I tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go.
He bent forward and spit harshly into my mouth, his eyes wicked and black. I squealed with the taste of him in my mouth and he pushed me down to his big cock again, shoving it in my mouth, the sweet wrong taste of his spit and mine making his cock glide, his sweet wrong velvet cock slick under my tongue.
He held my hair tight in one big fist this time so I couldn’t go anywhere as he took my mouth savagely, his hips thrusting harshly as he released down my throat.
I moaned as I felt the silky cum, gagging with how far he was down my throat, clamping my lips tightly together around his cock. My cunt throbbed between my legs and I felt wetness soak my panties.
The noise of my brother’s release was like a siren call in my blood, calling to me, wrapping me up, singing in my veins and I moaned again, my hands on the hard bands of muscles in his thighs.
When he was done and not a moment sooner, he let me off, his thumb running across my puffed-up lower lip with pleasure.
I wanted to come so badly, but he shook his head.
“None for you, sister.”
“But—” I protested, fuming, but he jerked his head toward the passenger seat. “Get your ass over there, baby girl, and if you’re good I’ll let you come later. If not, I’ll keep that pretty mouth open until you’re swollen with how many times my cock comes in it.”
I swallowed my anger, still tasting his cum in my mouth, and I got in my seat like a good girl.
“We’d better not stop at a hotel,” I said. “We look insane, all bloody and bandaged.”
“Sounds good, sister,” Torin said.
So we grabbed cheeseburgers and fries and Coke and pulled off at a state park a few exits down. Then we put the top up and sat in the back of the truck and ate our food.
It was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
Then when the last sticky salty fry was gone, my brother pulled me into his lap and ran his hands across my carved tattoo with pleasure, his fingers reaching down past my waistband to take what was his.
Chapter Seventeen
The next day we drove down the road, the windows of the truck open to let the cool fall air in. Torin had one hand on the wheel and the other tangled in my hair. His palm was resting on the base of my neck, his fingers curled possessively in my thick curls. I couldn’t stretch my head to look out the window without feeling the pull of his big fingers. As it had always been, that irresistible pull that tied me forever to him. We were almost to the county line where we’d pass into my home county. Our home county. I could almost smell the difference, taste it on my tongue.
I didn’t expect the unexpected ache and yearning inside me.
Home.
I thought I had left my home behind, but I had just buried it deep inside me. Maybe the mountains really were a part of me.
“We’re being followed,” Torin said abruptly.
I looked over at him, startled.
“What makes you think that?” I asked, trying to twist around in my seat, my brother’s big hand tight against my neck, smelling the sharp smokey scent of his fingers.
My bottom lip brushed his thumb as I craned my head to see the dusty Jeep behind us, and my brother groaned.
I glanced over at him. “And what makes you think it’s not just a random Jeep following us?” I demanded.
