Page 12 of CurVy 13

I step inside, close access to her, lock it tight, and try to flick the excitement from my fingers, not wanting to scare her, freak her out—

“You’re a freak.”

“Shut up!” I snap to her phantom.

“Tyler?” My brother’s authoritarian timbre drifts down the corridor. “Come here and meet our puppy.”

“A puppy?” I grin. “I always wanted a puppy.”

Retrieving my phone from my back pocket, I swipe the torch on, a guiding light to her, illuminating a narrow passage.

I walk down the hall, led by the glow. I stop beside an open door, directing the torch until it spotlights a beautiful blonde unable to move from her place bent over the mattress. She is naked. Wet.

A blush mars her skin.

Shit.

It’s happening again.

My heart starts to hurt; the beat is fast but rhythmic as my eyes sweep over her wondrously, memorising, hypnotised by all that luscious flesh— I’m falling in love.

“Cut that out,” Donnie warns me, fisting her hair, lifting her head off the bed as if to present a prize catch. The bite at her scalp tears a yelp from her—soprano notes that don’t seem to suit her soft, smooth form.

No.

Dropping the phone, I lunge forward. The torch lands upward, a strobe of light my body cuts through.

I shove him away from her, but she screams, a pitch for pain, as strands of her hair rip out, remaining in his fist.

“Sorry, baby.” I collect her into my arms, and she trembles hard. My heart soars. “I got you.”

“Goddammit!” Donnie barks. “I told you to take your damn medication this morning.”

“Ignore him,” I say, nuzzling into her blonde hair. She is sobbing hard; her cheeks are wet and pink and it’s as though she’s broken.

Have to fix her.

“Where is your damn mask?”

Oh yeah, the mask.

Fuck it.

I stride to the bedroom door and use my elbow to flick the light switch on the wall. With her—a soft, warm body cradled against mine—I take her away from him. “Donnie isn’t very nice sometimes, but he looks after us,” I admit. “He’ll look after you, too.”

Using my elbow again, I knock the switch. A bright strip light bursts the bathroom into clarity.

My pulse is racing as I set her down on the tiles in the shower and turn it on. Arranging the faucet, I angle it so the stream slides down the wall, pooling around her body and creating puddles of water I can use to clean her.

But she doesn’t move.

She’s in shock. Her legs flop apart. Her palms protect her pretty face, sobs violently crash into them.

The broken weeping makes her shake, the sound a clashing of painful chest notes.

I look her over.

Straightaway, I see my brother’s cum sliding from between her puffy pussy lips.