If God loves me

"If God loves me...?"

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"Coey's POV"

''7 years ago'' (11) (14)

Soft.

So soft.

The feeling of the rich texture of the cloth I was holding was driving me insane. Her panties. It was almost a shame to admit I had been working up to finally take a step forward, but no, not because I had sniffed her essence on the cloth, but because I would be sniffing more than just a cloth.

I had been waiting so goddamn long.

I had been fighting Myself not to lose control, for so godamn long.

I looked at my hands which were shaking.

'This is so thrilling!'

I sniffed the cloth intensively, imagining where her crotch would be printing its delicious nectar.

The smell was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, it simply was erotic with a musky scent.

I stared at the fading-white trails on the remnant.

The minimum amount showed she wasn't ovulating.

I pressed the cloth on my angry cock.

I wanted to put the fabric in my mouth to taste whatever unique jam her body had been producing while it prepare for metabolism.

My patience ran thin as I quickly pulled down my boxers to rub the dear-looking cloth directly at my tip. I felt the electric sparks with extreme excitement, looking down at the dried-up white little platters sticking on my cock.

'I want to smell just like her.'

.......

Grunts.

Grips.

Groans.

She woke up from her slumber with the unfamiliar penetration and the shuddering weight pressed on her body. 'Just how long I passed out?' she thought as she tried to calm herself. She could hear how wet their bodies were colliding, and the sickening pants that filled the air.

She could now clearly open her eyes without a blurry vision, she still couldn't see anything like the hand that clamped on her hair pushed her face down the pillow.

It was dark and the air was filled with her moans and Coey's heavy grunts.

The shock would be an understatement of what she was feeling but she remained resilient as she waited patiently for her brain to work properly. Normally, she could be sitting on the intruder's face as she pulled their guts out, but the intruder was her not-in-good-terms brother and she was the one who let him in.

It would be a good old reunion if the drugs weren't included, the only difference between then and now was the soreness between her legs and the hot, complicated, angry guilt swirling in her mind.

With an excruciating bite being clamped down on the skin of her shoulder, Coey had again emptied the pleasure he had been deprived. Lying motionless on the bed as Saskia inhaled deeply through her mouth.

She should be angry but also felt relieved as Coey decided to pull the heated rod of his out of her confined space. 'Just what was happening?' she thought as she watched Coey stalk butt-***** towards her bathroom, with her half-opened eyes.

Her eyes roamed over his enormous figure.

His large pectorals distorted the tattoos and scars that decorated his skin. The man who she didn't recognize at first, the man who just took advantage of her, the man who dared to turn away from her sight after degrading her, was none other than her brother Coey. The sweat beads glitched on his skin adding the undeniable sparks of a manly figure.

She took a deep breath as she tried to recover from the shock, she had confirmed it was him. And she had guessed his arrival wasn't a coincidence, but a plotted strategy against her. He had again made a perfect plot and chosen the right time for his prey. She was his prey.

Coey had again announced his presence by knocking everything along his way back to the bed. The fancy wine glasses were the first ones to shatter into messy pieces and then followed by the photo frames,

one by one. The noises ceased.

As an act of defiance, Saskia tried to crawl further towards the other edge of the bed. But just at that moment, she was yanked down by her ankle with a crushing force. She bit down on her lip refraining from any sound despite the immense pressure on her back.

Coey took a hold of her wrists above her head as he crushed his knee on her hip bone, preventing her from moving further.

Coey caressed her thighs and slowly forced her pelvic up to meet his hardened shaft. Saskia silently huffed a pain groan as Coey directly straddled her back, and pushed the head of his heated rod slowly.

"Coey," Saskia whimpered from the immense pain.

Almost instantly, Coey pushed his all way in and had the girl under him whimpering from the burning sensation. "What's the magic word, bébé?" The mock tone vibrated her eardrums as she felt like passing out from the dizziness.

" Frère, " she breathed out in defeat and a low chuckle tickled her ears.

Coey slowly released her wrists as he gently pulled his shaft out of her and sat down next to her sprawling figure. His hands trailed on her dangling thighs towards her swollen folds. Immense warm pleasure tickled his insides and he sucked in a sharp breath as he could feel his testicles begin to tighten.

A slight cough escaped her throat as she mumbled something incoherent into the sheets. Saskia could feel the rough hand slowly rubbing her swollen bud in circular motions. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness confused her as she tried her best not to cry.

But just like the straw that broke the camel's back, Coey glided his hot palm against her ***** shoulder,

"Thirsty? " He nudged her cheek as he swiftly straddled her carefully so as not to press his weight on her. " In the shower?" Coey leaned down and muttered in her ear, " Are you thirsty, my little sister?"

She quaked uncontrollably beneath him, and Coey smirked knowingly. Before she could have a chance to retort back, Coey had quickly injected a crystal liquid into her neck to wear off the effects of the earlier drugs.

"Shh, my baby sister, I know. Big brother knows that you're angry, shh," Coey muttered softly as he gently gathered her waist-length hair into a bundle.

The hot tears streamed out of her face at the soft tone of his voice, she was clearly exhausted to face another unexpected assault, and her emotions got the best of her. It had been a long time since the last time she cried because she couldn't even recall it.

Coey raised a brow and listened to her quiet sobs, his eyebrows furrowing, lips twitching with burning excitement. He pulled her up and turned her around to face him. The pearl-like sweat beads formed on her hairline, and the trails of her tears wetted the surface as they sat on her cheek like proudful Beryl gems. " Beryl," Coey breathlessly muttered as he hesitantly traced her tears.

Saskia looked up at Coey's face which was full of craziness, starting from the fine eyebrows raised intriguingly, eyes that filled with a mystery glint, and the smirk that promised bold lust, and intensive mischievousness. But as soon as he muttered, "Beryl," she looked at his face full of... distress.

With shaky hands, Coey mindlessly brushed her tears away and pressed his lips against her. With a groan, he held her nape and pressed her close. From lip nibbling to gentle biting, Coey pushed her down and laid her on her back. Saskia felt sick to her stomach as she felt the wetness flowing down there with a feeling of deja vu.

She huffed a sob into his mouth at the sensation of the thick head pressed at her entrance. He took his sweet time imploring the inside of her mouth while forcing his way inside her. Another sob wrecked into his mouth as the girl frantically wiggled underneath his frame...

As if something snapped within him, Coey broke the kiss and stopped all of his movements. He looked deep into her eyes,

" Beryl, no, " he muttered, " No llores," he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. " No llores, cariñoso," he repeated as he pulled away slowly. (>Don't cry. Don't cry, honey.)

He stood tall as he looked down at the partially-paralyzed girl. His hands ran through his locks as he breathed in and out heavily.

Saskia blinked rapidly to get rid of tears as she looked up at her cream-coloured ceiling. She could feel his gaze. But as swift as a light, he strolled down towards the door, knocking some of the perfume bottles on the stand intentionally.

Saskia just closed her eyes till noises stopped, and familiar silence filled up the room.

She could hardly hold her body up after a few minutes of attempting to sit up. Her eyes followed the shattered pieces of her stuff on the floor. Her lips quivered as she eyed the broken plant pots, and scattered soil here and there, knowing there was no way those plants could be saved.

"If God loves me, why can't I keep my plants alive?"

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