But how, when? We’ve never spent any real time together, never had a conversation that would shed any light on his new attitude towards me. And when he makes hints at the fact that he knew my secret; that he’d known all along that I wanted him, I find it hard to believe, so I convince myself that he’s just saying it to excuse away the things we do together in the dark—the things I let him to do me and have learned to do to him.
“Did you hear what I said? If you ever think about him again when I’m inside you, you’ll be sorry.” I wanted to say something mean and spiteful to bring him down from his high horse, but he chose that moment to become soft and gentle. What a chameleon.
The way he cupped my cheek belied the words he’d just spoken, and the butterfly wing feel of his lips when they touched mine brought tears to my eyes and made me want more. Maybe he does know me after all since he plays my body so effortlessly.
When he stroked into my body this time, he touched that place inside me that fills me with joy. I can’t quite put it into words this feeling. It’s more than a sexual feeling, more than the feeling I get when I feel an orgasm approaching, this feeling is like a long dead and withered flower opening up inside me, and coming to life.
I have no power to fight a feeling like that, so when he rocked his hips against mine ever so slowly and lowered his lips to mine, I lost the will to fight. I just wanted him to make me feel this way forever. I wanted to feel his long thick cock driving in and out of me until my pussy tingles, and I find release.
In release, I find an escape from everything else around me; he’s all that matters, he and I, and what we do on this bed. I don’t feel the shame at that moment; the shame of letting my husband’s brother take me in what was once our marriage bed.
I don’t feel the fear and worry I felt when my husband died so suddenly, and I was left all alone in the world. I only feel that joy, that light, and his protective arms around me, shutting out everything else but us. I’ve become addicted to that feeling, a feeling only he can give. I haven’t told him yet, but perhaps he knows, but I’m all his now, the way I never belonged to anyone else.
I looked down over his shoulder past his back and beyond mesmerized by the movement of his ass as he fucked into me. Everything about him was beautiful; no wonder his brother had been so intimidated by his very existence. It seems as though things came much easier for the younger brother than it had my husband, even the way he made love.
I pulled my mind back from that traitorous thought even as my body writhed with pleasure. A cry left my lips and filled the air as my body arched, taking him in deeper. I couldn’t hold back the words I screamed out loud as his thrusts became stronger, harder, deeper. “Yes, Gavin, fuck me make me yours.”
I know how much those words fuel him, and yet I’m finding it harder and harder not to give them to him, not to give more of myself away than I think is safe. But what can I do when his very touch makes me weak. “Turn around; I want to fuck you from behind.”
When he says things like that, my tummy trembles, and I hurried to do as he said, rolling over onto my stomach after he pulled out and getting up on my hands and knees with my ass in the air. I felt the wanton need to have him there, in my ass, where he’d only taken me once.
I thought at the time that I would never want to have him there again, but now that the pain had worn off I have this need to feel that burn again, to bring him the pleasure I’d heard in his grunts and growls when he came from fucking me in the ass.
I shook my ass at him involuntarily, but still, he caught on. I felt his cock, thicker in this position as it slid into me to the hilt. I felt the pressure as he leaned over my back to whisper in my ear. “If you want me to fuck your tight little ass again, you must first give me a son. Until I plant my seed in your womb, I won’t cum anywhere else.”
My womb contracted at his words, and I started moving, pushing my hips back wildly as he fucked into me. No words needed to be spoken to the fact that he owned me completely. It had taken him only three days, three of the hardest days at that, but I was completely enslaved.