Page 11 of Brothers' Brat
My own hand finds its way to her hair, sifting through the dark strands with a tenderness that conflicts with the intensity of what we're doing. I watch Hayden's face, etched with ecstasy, and know without a doubt that he loves her as much as I do. It's a twisted kind of love, one that will bind the three of us together forever.
"Get ready," I pant, the pressure building to a fever pitch within me. "Open up for us, Leila."
"Stick out your tongue," Hayden orders in unison with me, his voice thick with impending release.
And she does, our little sister's beautiful tongue extended for us to paint with our come. I let go, groaning her name as my climax washes over me, spilling onto her waiting taste buds. Beside me, Hayden grunts, his seed arcing toward her chest, painting the swell of her breasts, her blazer gaping open to reveal the pert peaks of flesh beneath.
"Fuck," I exhale, spent and reeling from the high. Hayden's hand still cradles Leila's neck, but I see the look in his eyes. We were meant to break her, but her eager willingness just now may have broken us in ways we'll never recover from. We know what it feels like now to be wanted and needed by Leila Hillcrest, and we can never go back to the way it was before.
CHAPTER 9
HUDSON
Our entire world seems to slow down, the rush of my release ebbs away, and I'm suddenly hyper-aware of Leila and how small and spent she seems in my arms as I gently pull her up. Her breaths come out in soft puffs against the hard lines of my chest under my shirt. I can't help but think about how delicate she seems now, a stark contrast to the wildfire she has been for Hayden and me.
"Baby?" My voice is a low murmur, and I don't even care if Hayden hears me use the term of endearment. It feels natural, it feels like what I should always be calling her. Leila doesn't respond, just burrows closer, seeking warmth in her exhaustion.
"Shit, she's completely out," Hayden's voice cuts through my thoughts, laced with concern that matches the tightness constricting my chest. He rests his hand on her cheek, brushing the backs of his fingers against her soft skin. "She really wanted us. I could see it in her eyes," he tells me, his fingers moving down to her exposed breasts and rubbing his come into her skin. When he pulls on her nipples, he does so gently, and she moans sleepily into my chest. "Don't worry, pretty girl. We're not done with you yet." My brother catches me completely by surprise. "Rest now," he adds, his blue eyes searching her face for any sign of discomfort, and I can tell he's ready to soothe it away if he finds it.
"I'm taking her upstairs," I grunt, already moving toward the wooden slat staircase that leads to the master bedroom, feeling every beat of Leila's heart against my own. Hayden nods, shadowing my steps as we navigate the familiar path.
The weight of her body, featherlight in my arms, is the only thing anchoring me to this moment. Leila's breaths come out in soft sighs, her chest rising and falling with a rhythm that lulls even my racing thoughts. Her head rests against my shoulder, a lock of hair tickling my skin.
"Almost there," I murmur, more to myself than her. Each step up the stairs feels like wading through molasses. It feels like the end of a war, and really, it kind of is. We haven't made peace with our sister yet, but I saw that look in her eyes when she was on her knees in front of us. She's ready, and we need to make things right with her now. The cabin's master bathroom door groans open under my push, and I'm grateful for the solitude it promises.
"I'll fill the tub," Hayden's voice, just a whisper behind me, carries an edge of concern I rarely hear from him.
I nod, easing Leila down onto the cool marble counter. My fingers tremble as they brush against her skin, sliding over the fabric of her blazer and skirt. It's not like me to hesitate, yet I do now, peeling away each layer with deliberate care, not wanting to jolt her awake.
"Should be warm enough." Hayden tests the water with a dip of his hand, adjusting the faucet ever so slightly. Leila's eyes flutter, half-dreaming, and I can't help but wonder what she sees behind those heavy lids.
"Hey," I coax gently, easing the last of her remaining clothes off of her body. She doesn't resist, doesn't stir beyond a sleepy mumble. It's foreign, this tenderness between us, and it scares me more than any confrontation we've had. We've never seen her fully naked with not a stitch of clothing covering some part of her. Hayden's eyes meet mine, and I know the significance is not lost on him.
"We weren't that rough downstairs, why is she passed out like that? She didn't have that much to drink." Hayden's hovering at the doorway, his broad frame casting shadows across the tiled floor. I can't help but smirk at him because for as much as he runs his mouth, he really does care about Leila more than he'd probably like her or me to know.
"She was out in the cold in barely anything while we had a fucking 5k marathon chasing her," I answer, snorting. It's not funny, it's just that I don't think he realizes that she's not a 6'5" hockey player sometimes.
"Get her in," Hayden says, his voice low, and I don't miss the roll of his eyes.
With hands that have hurt her more than I care to think about right now, I lift her again, cradling her close as I lower her into the bath. The water embraces her, and a small moan escapes her lips, lost somewhere between pleasure and exhaustion.
"Feel good, baby?" I ask, my voice barely above the sound of rippling water.
"Mhm," she hums, and her sweet, submissive voice sends a shiver down my spine.
"Keep your head up, Leila," Hayden instructs softly, stepping closer. For once, there's no roughness in his touch, only a protectiveness that surprises me.
"Keep your head up…" Leila smiles, eyes still closed, and softly giggles, her words trailing off as her consciousness wavers. Her lashes cast a delicate shadow on her cheeks.
"Sound asleep and still giving me shit," Hayden complains, and I have to stifle a laugh that would wake her up. He's not wrong, and I think even now that she's let herself be with us, admitted on some level that we're the ones for her, she'll always take an opportunity to fight with Hayden, even if it's playfully.
"Clip her hair up. I don't want it getting soaked," I tell my brother, watching Leila's chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. Her body is limp, and I'm holding her up in the tub with one arm. Anticipation coils inside me because I know what the rest of the night will bring. We're going to finally claim her, and she's going to claim us right back.
I lay her back against the edge of the tub as Hayden gathers her dark tresses gently, deftly securing them. His fingers brush her scalp with care, and her eyes flutter open to look up at him. I can see that she's wondering if it's really him. The rough hands that have pulled those same strands with fervor are now soft, considerate.
"Feels different, doesn't it?" I whisper, more to myself than to her. But she stirs slightly, lips parting as if to respond, eyelids fluttering closed and then in a vain attempt to open again.
"I like this…" she says, the words a featherlight sigh escaping her lips.