My Sister's Innocence - 2

Chapter 6

Ten Years Later



She sat across from me at the dinner table, her head held high, her haughty chin held out. She had lost her adolescent weight since I had last see her though her curves still filled out a dress more than what was fashionable. That did not seem to matter to the man who sat beside her, Darian, what kind of name was that? He was her fiancé. They had met three years ago while she was at college, he was a doctor, which made me wonder how she met him, and already a self made man. He being a doctor had won the way through our mother’s heart, who had never grown to suspect anything about Kayla and I, the daft woman. Kayla looked positively happy, except when she glanced at me. She looked at me with cold eyes that had never forgiven me for what had happened ten years ago. She would not even treat me as she treated Blaine, Bryce, and Tristan. She treated me like the cold step-brother, someone unworthy of her love.



“Darian, it was so good of you to join us for Thanksgiving dinner,” my mother was telling the intruder. “I only wish you could stay the full weekend with us.”



“I’m sorry Dr. Bailey,” Darian the Dick said to her sweetly. “I wish I could stay but my family wanted Kayla and I to visit them as well, and Kayla has never seen the lights of Paris, so while she is off from school we thought we would take advantage of it.”



“That’s a shame,” my mother continued.



“Though, Paris for Thanksgiving, defeats the purpose,” Blaine quipped.



I watched, happily, Darian struggle to remember which twin had spoken. Despite the obvious differences between Blaine and Bryce Darian could never seem to figure out which boy was which.



“Yes, well, my family never has been much of the traditionalist types,” Darian admitted.



“Well, Paris will be exciting for you and Kayla,” my mother said happily, though anyone could tell she wanted her daughter home with her. Ever since Kayla met Darian she had spent no time at home with the family, only a few scattered days. She spent her summers traveling with the Dicks, yes, their last name really was Dick, and though Darian stayed and worked Kayla was traveling with a family that was not her own. And the Dicks loved Kayla like their own daughter and spoiled her. The only thing on Kayla’s body not bought by the elder Dicks was the diamond and sapphire engagement ring, bought by the younger Dick. Her necklace and earrings, which matched perfectly with the ring, were bought by the Dicks in Holland, the beautiful dress was bought by the Dicks from Paris on their last visit, without Kayla or Darian since Darian had to work and Kayla had to study. What Kayla was studying was beyond me for she had been in school since she was eighteen and she soon would be twenty-six. All I knew is she continued to go to school and enjoy every moment of it. What I really thought was that Kayla had become the Dicks’ whore and was now doing anything their hearts demanded. I, of course, was basing this off of my overwhelming jealousy.



When she was gone I could try to forget her, to lose myself between a woman’s thighs and forget the feel of my sister, or try, even if I cried out her name during sex and women looked at me with confusion. I could forget her when hanging with my friends who kept teasing me about needing a woman to take care of me as I seemed to have no direction. But I could not forget her when she sat in front of me, her dress too low cut and inappropriate for a family gathering, her every breath raising them so I remembered what it felt like to cup them and feel her. I could not forget her when she smiled at Darian and knew I wanted her to smile like that at me.



In ten years I had not fallen out of love with my sister.



After the feast I was forced to play male companion to my brothers and brother-in-law-to-be while my mother and my sister sat in the kitchen over pie and coffee talking about whatever women talk about when they are alone, which to me is what type of dress Kayla should wear and what sort of shoes to buy. Like I know the difference between Gucci or Blahnik, or even who the Hell these people are, I just know I’ve heard the names several times out of both my mother and my sister’s mouths.



We’ve never really been strapped for cash, my mother is a top surgeon, and she did it all on her own, but too much of her younger years had been wasted and now she put all of the extra money she had in bonds for our family so that when she died we would be left with too much money, not that Kayla would be needing it. Her new plastic surgeon family had far more money than we did, and seemed to enjoy the plastic surgery themselves.



When Kayla and Darian dismissed themselves to go to sleep in Kayla’s old room I would have jumped for joy if I had not been so damned angry. I stalked off to bed shortly after and no one even questioned my leaving. I was the sulky one. When had I become the sulky one?



Lying in my room, a room directly next to my sister’s room, a room rarely used in the last ten years, I listened as hard as I could to the sounds of their breathing, but I heard nothing but the sounds of the television. Maybe they were an old married couple already, falling asleep before the television holding hands. I could not help it, I went to the adjoining door of our mutual bathroom, locked myself in, and peeked through the keyhole. I wished I had not.



Straddled across his lap like some cheap two-bit whore my sister rode her fiancé to be while he lay under her, his hands up and cupping her thick breasts, squeezing until his fingers left red marks where they had been, the soft bluish glow of the television adding a surreal light to their love-making. She was breathing heavy, leaning into him, riding his cock, which was a good size though I felt I was bigger, her nails ripping down his chest, leaving bloody welts that he did not seem to mind. She moved with the vigor of a girl going mad and her hair trailed down her body in long strands, sweat clinging it to her body. This is why they had left my mother, to fuck in my mother’s house. Never mind I had first raped my sister in that very bed, though she had wanted it as much as I did, it was the principle of the matter. She was on top of him, her thighs clenched about his body, her lips moaning out soft praises as they left reddened welts upon each other with the strength of their fucking, and all I could do was watch.



His hand moved down from her breasts to her pussy, his thumb rubbing over her swollen nub. She cried out, loudly, and any minute I expected a barrage of family to wonder if she was hurt, and still no one came. They left her to her fucking, bouncing on top of her fiancé like a girl on a trampoline, and I hated her, and I hated him, and I hated them both for not allowing me to move on when she had securely left me for someone else.



I stood up and loudly flushed the toilet before slamming the door upon re-entering my room. How dare she? How dare she make a fool of me? I lay in my bed and cursed her name several times, unable to fall asleep.



I do not know when it was, minutes later, or even hours, but I heard the door of my sister’s room open. I could tell by the soft creak in the wood that it was her walking out of the room and not her heavy-footed fiancé. I followed her, quieter than her for I knew and had memorized long ago where every creak in the wood was. She flowed down the stairs like a ghost in her white virginal lingerie, stepping through the kitchen and out the back door of the house to stand on the porch that gazed out on the large expanse of the yard.



I did not give her time to even react, she was on the earth below me before the scream could even reach her lips, and by the time it had my hand was covering her lips and my other hand ripping apart the bodice of the white silk to expose her breasts to me, to reveal the red welts from Darian’s fingers that were left from his bruising grip.



“Grant,” she huffed, quiet enough not to wake the sleeping house, but loud enough to gather my attention. Her fist was sharp and fast against the side of my head and I rolled off of her, my head spun up with stars from the blow.



“No,” I growled at her like a primal beast as she moved to stand. She was on the ground again, face down, before she could gather her wits. I tore the nightgown away from her. In the darkness of the night, the quietness of past the witching hour in a suburban town, the sound of the tearing echoed off of our white picket fence. She struggled but quietly, it was not enough of a struggle to keep me from her.



“Grant,” she hissed angrily. She tried to buck but when only lifted her ass to me. I grabbed her ass and pulled her against my sweats. I rubbed my hardened cock against her suddenly naked skin and relished that she did not wear underwear to bed now.



I fisted my hand in her long hair and pulled her head back, looking down into her eyes with love I had not felt in such a long time. I loved her, I still loved her, and she would not escape me this time. I pulled my sweats down, my erection popping through, and I pushed so deep inside of her so fast she could not conceal the cry that ravaged her lips the way I was about to ravage her body. My cock throbbed in her, mixed with the earlier mess left by her fiancé, and it hardly affected me. I only cared about the result, not how I came to that result.



“Do you like it when Darian does this to you?” I snarled at her, pumping her fast, bringing her up so that I could cup her breast in one hand and keep a good grip on her hand with another. “Does it feel as good as when I’m inside of you? Does it feel better?”



She refused a word. She was choking on every sound, doing her best to stay silent as her eyes glistened. Was she crying? Did she hate me? Love me? What was doing on in her head? The faster I pumped into her the quieter she became, gulping back the air it took to even breathe. Her only true movement was from the force of my cock in her pussy, a pussy that still felt tight wrapped around mine and I felt that minimal amount of triumph, I was larger than Darian. No matter how well used she was with him it would make no difference because I could reach further depths, widen her more, than he ever could. Plus, I wondered, if he knew where that spot was that would make her gasp even while trying to be silent.



Whether he knew it or not did not matter in that moment. All that mattered was that it still worked, it was still the same spot. Her groan escaped quickly through her parted lips, her need suddenly drenching me offering smooth friction. I pulled out of her, spun her around, and trapped her on the back on the hard dirt of Autumn. She waited for me to come down to her, to spread her thighs and enter her again, to move inside of her, slipping against her, the two of us nearly naked, she only wearing a few shreds of her gown and I with my sweats down around my ankles. She bucked against me, welcoming me inside of her, and somewhere in the depths of my mind I knew I had won.



I have no idea how long my eldest brother, Tristan, stood there at the back door watching us, the sick bastard. I have no idea how long it took him to alert our mother and my sister’s fiancé to what was going on. All I know is I had fully orgasmed, as had Kayla, twice, by the time it registered that there were eyes on us. Kayla was on the ground, shuddering and crying a bit. Was she regretful? Of course, a little, but she would get over it because everything would be okay now?



At least I was foolish enough to think this until her fiancé came out and slammed his fist into my jaw so hard that now I was seeing stars for the second time. He even hit me in the same spot she had hit me.



I wish everything went black like it did in the movies, but truth be told there is not some blissful magic button that knocks people out when you kick, hit, punch, slap, or drop something in the right place on their heads. No, they simply just hurt, and I hurt, even more as I felt myself being dragged inside by my brothers, as I heard the screaming voices of my sister and her fiancé. No, unfortunately, the fifteen minutes of pleasure I had were nothing compared to the next few hours.