Page 3 of Brothers' Brat
"Look at her," Hayden taunts, his voice raw with perverse excitement as he speaks only to his twin. "See how wet she is? The scared little thing still wants us."
Hudson's gaze burns into me, and I can see the question in his eyes even as he asks it aloud. "Does fear get you off, Leila? Or is it us—how crazy we are for you?"
I want to spit venom, defend myself against their wild accusations, but my mouth is gagged by the fabric of my own panties. A whimper escapes me instead, muffled and pitiful, as Hayden invades me with one thick, unforgiving finger.
"Fuck," Hayden groans, his finger moving inside me with an intensity that borders on violence. The sensation is alien, too much and not enough all at the same time, and I'm lost in a haze of pain and unwanted pleasure.
"I'll let you pop her cherry," Hayden offers his brother, pulling his finger out of me and holding it up to the moonlight. "But I want to lick her virgin blood before you fuck her." The hunger in his voice is terrifying, but not as much as the thought that something deep inside me wants the two of them to consume me.
Before Hudson can respond to Hayden's proposition, I thrash wildly, my limbs flailing in a desperate bid for freedom. I kick at Hayden, claw at his arms, but it's like fighting against the tide that I am destined to be swept up in.
My brothers' laughter cuts through the night, dark and amused with themselves, but I can hear the annoyance, the rage they try to keep bottled up. I know if they really let themselves go, I probably wouldn't survive what they did to me all because I won't tell them what they want to hear. "What should we do to warm her up?" Hayden sneers at me while speaking to Hudson. Hayden lifts his hand to his mouth, licking his finger clean in what should be a lewd gesture, but makes my pussy tighten, craving to feel him inside me again. "You taste fucking incredible, little sister."
Hudson's strong hands grip me, taking over where Hayden left off, and suddenly I'm airborne, draped over his shoulder like a sack of flour and it's not lost on me that his palm rests on my ass, holding my skirt down like he's afraid some ghost dudes might look at what's his. That's the thing about Hayden and Hudson Hillcrest. They only share with each other. I am their property, and I'd feel sorry for anyone who tried to test that theory. Hudson's stride is steady as we leave the cemetery, my world reduced to the rhythm of his steps and the jarring slap of Hayden's hand on the back of my thigh. If I wasn't muzzled, I'd tell him, "Oh, great. I was hoping you'd be joining us." It's probably better if I'm not able to speak.
"Knock it off, Hayden. We need to hit the road before the snow starts really coming down," Hudson says, his voice eerily calm amid the chaos. "She's freezing."
"And who's fault is that? Let's swing by the rink first," Hayden suggests with a wicked grin. "I want her squirming all the way to the cabin. Don't get all soft on me, brother."
Dread pools in my stomach as I imagine what awaits me at the ice rink. My brothers' plans are always laced with torment, and this detour will be no different. The unknown chills me more than the snow flurries beginning to fall ever could.
CHAPTER 3
HAYDEN
The frigid air of the ice rink bites at the skin on my face as we step inside, and I rip the lace panties out of our sister's mouth. The echo of Leila's protests bounce off the high ceilings and cold concrete, making my dick harder than it already was. I need to sink inside our girl, and soon. As much as I love tormenting her, I don't want to go too far and regret it. My boots crunch on the frosty ground, leaving fleeting impressions in the thin layer of snow that's blown in through the open entrance. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the rink, turning the abandoned hockey goals into hulking monsters lurking in the corners. I smirk because she has to be scared out of her mind right now, and that's what it's going to take to break her down. She wants to pretend that she doesn't want us, that she doesn't love us, and that just isn't going to work for me.
Anger whips through me out of nowhere at the thought of her denying what clearly lies between the three of us.
"Shut up," I growl, my voice a low rumble that competes with the whipping wind outside. My hand clamps over her face, feeling the warmth of her breath against my palm. "Just give in, and all this ends right now." I need this to end right now.
I need her.
Leila's eyes are wild, defiant, but there's fear there too—a delicious, intoxicating fear that I savor. It's the only real emotion she's given us recently. She puts on that fake, unaffected show to pretend like she couldn't fathom the idea of being with us. But this is real, so fucking tangible. It's a fear only Hudson and I can draw out of her. No one else would dare touch her. She's ours to play with, to torment.
"Oh my god. I'm so over this with the two of you. Fuck you, Hayden!" she spits out, venom lacing her words even as her body shivers from more than just the cold. Leila pounds on Hudson's back, the only place she can reach, and adds, "And you too, Hudson. You're the good twin, and you know better than to act like this." The sass in her tone does nothing but get us more heated, more turned on.
I can't help the twisted smile that curls my lips at her words. I'm the bad twin, and she's going to learn to love it. This is our game, our rules, and she's just a pawn until she admits what we already know. She belongs to us. But this game is not just about control—there's something about pushing her to the edge that lights a fire within me, something very dark that only our little sister can handle.
Hudson's presence at my side is a silent force, his stature almost rivaling mine, the confidence in his stance mirroring my own. Yet, his grip on Leila is unyielding, somehow protecting her from me while simultaneously willing to participate in her torture. Leila is right about Hudson. I'm the quick-tempered hothead, and he's the cool, slow burn. When it comes to Leila, though? All bets are off.
"Look at you, so fierce," I taunt as Hudson sets her down on her feet to stand in front of him. Our sister looks so small, dwarfed between our towering frames. My fingers trail down her cheek before ripping her white button-down shirt open. The sound of fabric tearing is satisfyingly loud in the quiet arena. Her breasts spill free, exposed to the chilled air, and I can't resist—the need to touch, to claim, surges forward. I've had this planned all day, not even my brother knows what I have in store for her.
"Christmas came early," I murmur, cupping her flesh, the contact searing despite the cold.
She reacts like a cornered animal, a sharp slap catching me off guard. My head snaps to the side, stinging heat blossoming across my cheek. I hear Hudson chuckle beside me, a sound that holds both amusement and a warning that he'll stop me if I get too rough with her. She should be thankful that we're twins and that he's as levelheaded as he is. If it were just Leila and me, I'd have her on the ice with my cock deeper inside her than she could probably imagine.
My hand instinctively flies to my face, rubbing the spot where her palm connected. She's making it clear that she believes in that stupid curse. She's letting me know she'd rather let us kill her than live in a loveless relationship. The pain is fleeting, but the mark she left—it's a challenge, a battle line drawn. And I'm all too ready to cross it. Her eyes blaze with defiance, beautiful and broken. "Just give in, and all this ends." My voice is a low threat, but she knows it's also a lie. Nothing will ever end between us.
Her lips part to spit venom, but it’s Hudson's sharp intake of breath that catches my attention. His gaze locks onto something beyond me, his usual calm shattered. "When did you do this?" he asks, voice rough. He might not know the extent of my plan, but he knows me well enough to grasp which direction this night is headed.
I follow his stare to see the Christmas lights nestled by the entrance to the ice, their colors muted but insidious. "While you were on the phone telling Dad that Leila ran away from us," I say, grinning at his irritation. I swiped some extension cords from the supply closet and the setup was perfect—my little surprise to add some sparkle to our Christmas Eve.
Leila struggles against Hudson's hold, her back arching as if she thinks she can wriggle free from her fate. My eyes dip to watch her tits bounce with the movement. She is the most perfect fucking woman I've ever had the pleasure of looking at. Her fear is palpable, a delicious scent in the air that makes my heart race. I'm close enough to feel her heartbeat pounding through her chest.
"Christmas is your favorite holiday, isn't it?" I murmur, the words slithering out like a caress as I reach for her tits again, groaning as they fill my large hands. She's so soft, and she'd be warm right now if she didn't spend the evening acting like a brat. My hands are greedy as they find the peaks of her nipples, twisting and pulling until she's crying out and arching toward me. Hudson's hand comes around her throat, keeping her head tilted back against his chest while he stares down into her half-lidded eyes.
Leila whines when I deliberately pull away from her without warning. "Consider it ambiance," I say, grabbing the strand of Christmas lights that lay neglected by the entrance. The lights flicker with the movement, casting a glow that somehow makes the cold space seem more sinister.