Page 28 of Silks

“You’re lucky I don’t fucking kill you,” he said, and Chet scuttled out the doorway without another word.

I started to scream then, as loudly as I could, but Teddy advanced on me.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he said, but his eyes were bright.

I took a step to go around him, but my brother blocked it. I tried a step in the opposite direction, and he blocked me there, too.

“What has gotten into you?” I cried. “You’re acting like a fucking psycho!”

He took a step closer to me, boxing me in.

“Do you really not know?” he asked, a muscle working in his jawline.

“Know what?” I shrieked, yanking a lamp out of the socket in the wall and trying to hit him with it.

Teddy grabbed it easily and tossed it aside.

I jumped as it crashed into the wall and he grabbed both my hands, pulling them behind his back and trapping them there.

Somehow for some stupid reason I hadn’t expected for him to be this strong.

His force was something that happened to other people, and I shivered to think what he could do to me now.

“Did you really never guess?” he asked, and I was about to shriek again that I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about, when, in one shattering moment, I registered the feel of his thick, big cock on my stomach.

And brothers were absolutely not supposed to be this fucking hard.

And then I knew.

I started to scream, but he bent down and kissed me.

When guys in Chicago kissed you all horned up, you could tell they were trying to get to pussy as fast as they could. But not my brother. He kissed me like I had the antidote to fucking poison, like I was the fucking Holy Grail.

His mouth was hard and urgent on mine, his hands trapping me tightly against his body as he devoured me.

My body was smashed under his as he crushed me against him, helpless to resist his lips and tongue.

Teddy’s hips shoved me up against the wall, and my back hit it with a little jolt, my nipples tightening unwillingly against my dress at the contact, how his broad chest pressed on mine.

He dropped my arms to stroke at my mouth.

“Open up, sweetheart,” he said against my lips, his tongue teasing me, trying to plunge deeper, tangle with mine.

“No,” I tried to grit out, but his fingers were on my jaw, slowly but inexorably pulling it gently open so he could press his tongue inside.

He tasted wrong and dark, his tongue too eager, too possessive.

“Oh, Ophelia, you taste so sweet,” he groaned. “You’re so perfect, sister.”

The terror pulsed through me.

“Is this some kind of joke?” I cried, trying to shove Teddy away now that my arms were free, but he was so big, so powerful.

“No,” he said, and he couldn’t tear himself away from my mouth, cupping my face to kiss me deeper, longer, harder.

“I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

“Stop!” I cried.