EVELYN

My hands rested firmly on his shoulders, anchoring myself as I stared down at him, completely entranced by the way his tongue moved. My breath hitched the moment his finger slid inside my butthole, adding an intoxicating rhythm to the swirl and twist of his tongue against my dripping pussy. Every flick, every curl, every deliberate move sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, my body writhing with pleasure under his relentless attention. He was so good at this— too good. My thighs trembled as I squirmed, trying to steady myself against the sheer force of sensation, but he wasn’t letting up. If anything, my reactions seemed to spur him on, his tongue working faster, more intentionally.

I should feel guilty, shouldn’t I? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what we were doing wasn’t right. But how could something that felt this perfect be so wrong? I was too deep in it, too consumed by my brother, to dare think to stop. Was I stupid for never putting an end to this? Or was I just overthinking it?

We’re siblings— shouldn’t that be enough to justify it? Siblings help each other, don’t they? He needed me, and I needed him too. It was that simple. Or at least, that’s what I told myself as I tangled my fingers in his hair, guiding him closer, deeper. This was our way of having each other’s back, our way of being there for one another even though the world might see it as an abomination but you know what?

The world could think what it wanted because to make it in life, you need not to follow what people have to say. Right here, right now, nothing else counted, aside from my brother's tongue stroking my clit, and later, his twelve inches cock will take over.

“Uh, Dave,” I panted, my voice trembling as I tried to catch my breath. “You’re going to make me cum so quickly, and it’s going to be right in your mouth.”

He paused for a moment, tilting his head slightly, his dark eyes locking with mine. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver through my body, making me feel completely exposed and utterly vulnerable. His lips curled into a wicked smirk, one that made my pulse race even faster.

“Is that so?” he said, his voice low, smooth, and laced with a teasing edge. “If you even think about coming before I’m finished with you, trust me…” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear, his breath warm against my skin as he spoke. “I’ll tie you to this bed and fuck the hell out of your brain.”

The words sent a jolt through me, a mix of excitement and dare pooling deep in my body. His tone wasn’t a mere threat, it was a promise, and the fire in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t bluffing, he was definitely going to do it. My legs trembled as he pressed his lips to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make me squirm.

I couldn’t tell if it was the control in his voice, the raw authority he exuded, or the way his hands gripped my waist, but I knew I was about to explode from the pleasure, and there was no escaping him. And the truth was, I didn’t want to.

The idea of being completely at his mercy, tied down and consumed by him, only heightened the ache between my legs. My breath quickened, and my body betrayed me, arching into his touch despite his warning.

Dave chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing slow, torturous circles along my skin. “You think I’m joking?” he said, his lips brushing against mine before pulling away, just out of reach. “Go ahead. Test me.”

Barely seconds after he continued again, my phone beeped, pulling me momentarily out of the haze. I ignored it, not wanting anything to ruin this moment. Nothing should interrupt this, my pleasure, and his focus. But then it beeped again a few minutes later, and I remembered Dad mentioning he’d text me when he was on his way home. The thought of him intruding on this moment made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

Reluctantly, I reached out to my bedside stool, my fingers fumbling for my phone while my brother’s head stayed firmly between my legs, his tongue still working magic on my clit. My body jerked involuntarily at the sharp sting of pleasure, making me forget the phone in my hand for a few seconds.

But then I glanced at the screen.

It wasn’t Dad.

It was Mike.

Every drop of pleasure drained away in a twinkle of an eye, replaced by a hot, simmering annoyance that made my blood boil. Really, Mike? Of all the moments in this frustrating world, you had to pick this one? Now, of all times, that I was enjoying his outwardly head, his mouth driving me insane, you decide to be unfortunate enough to reach out?

My jaw clenched as I stared at the screen, my irritation building. I ignored the message, refusing to let him steal any more of my energy. Instead, I dropped the phone back onto the table and tangled my fingers in my man’s hair again, pulling him closer with a determined sigh.

Mike could wait. This? This was my moment. My happiness. And I wasn’t about to let him ruin it.

I’ve tried, time and time again, to push Mike away, to make him understand that this isn’t what I want. But he just doesn’t get it. He chalks it up to me being angry about the sudden arranged marriage like that’s the root of my frustration. His nerdy, over-analytical brain can’t comprehend that no amount of planned dates or forced proximity will change how I feel.

I know he’s had a crush on me since elementary school; he has made it badly obvious over the years. I get it, maybe to him, this marriage is the fulfillment of some long-held fantasy. But for me? It was my worst nightmare ever. I could never end up with a man who can't light the kind of fire I feel right now, with the man between my legs. Mike might adore me, but he’ll never be the one who knows how to touch me and make me feel alive.

My jaw clenched as I stared at the screen, my irritation building. As I sat there stewing in my thoughts, I decided to ignore the message, refusing to let him steal any more of my energy. But as I was about to drop my phone back, Dave noticed.

He suddenly stopped what he was doing. He rolled his eyes, trying to read my mood, and I realized that in my frustration, I had unconsciously closed my legs around him. His hands rested on my thighs, his brow furrowed as he tilted his head to rest on my bare boobs.

“Hey, are you okay? Am I being too rough on you?” he asked, his tone softening with concern. “You should’ve stopped me. Maybe we should even form our own safe word.”

“No, I’m fine. You aren't the problem,” I replied quickly, grabbing my phone and shoving it in his face. “But look at this.”

His eyes scanned the screen and I watched the irritation flare in them as he took in the message. “That douchebag really wants to take you out on a date again?” he said, his voice sharp with disbelief. “Do I need to put him in his place before he learns?”

“Yes, this weekend,” I admitted reluctantly, crossing my arms. “And I can’t turn him down because of Dad.”

His jaw tightened, his annoyance palpable. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just for a while,” he said, his tone shifting to something more protective. “And please, don’t go. I’ll handle it.”

But that was exactly what worried me. I really didn’t trust Dave to handle things calmly when it came to me. His temper, especially when it’s about me, is like a wildfire, very unpredictable, destructive, and almost impossible to contain. He’s not the kind of guy who talks things out calmly or tries to understand the situation. No, Dave is the kind of man who acts first and deals with the consequences later. He was more of a bulldozer than a negotiator, once he stepped in, the situation was bound to spiral out of control. I’d seen it happen before, and every time, I was left regretting that I’d let him get involved.

There was a time when a guy had the audacity to cross a line with me. I don’t even remember the exact words he said, but whatever it was, it made my blood boil. I vented to Dave about it, hoping he’d reassure me or tell me to let it go. But Dave? He didn’t even let me finish the story.

The next thing I knew, he’d found the guy and confronted him, his towering frame and piercing glare enough to send most people running. But this guy, he made the worst mistake of his life by talking back and that’s when everything escalated.

In one swift, almost shocking move, Dave grabbed him by the collar, yanked him forward, and slammed his face into the floor with a force that made me gasp. The sound of the effect was sickening and it left the guy stunned and sprawled in a pool of blood on the ground. But Dave didn’t stop there.

As if proving a point, he stepped on the guy’s head, pressing down just enough to send a clear message. “You don’t disrespect her,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, like a storm about to break. The guy didn’t even try to fight back because he knew he had lost. He just laid there, terrified, probably praying for it to be over.

I stood frozen, a mix of shock, and anger, almost peeing on myself as guilt swallowed me alive. I hadn’t asked for this, and yet, there I was, watching Dave unleash a side of him that scared even me. And the worst part? He didn’t see anything wrong with it. In his mind, he was just defending me, and proving his love in the most violent way possible.

But after that, I learned my lesson. Telling Dave about someone crossing me is like lighting a fire in a room full of gasoline. Once he acts, you’re left with nothing but destruction and a feeling of regret for ever involving him in the first place.

But, Mike’s persistence wasn’t easy to ignore either. Money-wise, his family’s wealth was a golden ticket out of the cycle of generational poverty that had nearly crushed mine for years. Marrying into his family meant security, financial stability, and a kiss to poverty forever and constant struggle. Dad had made that much clear when he’d started arranging the match.

But my heart? My heart screamed for something else. Love or lust, just call it whatever you want but what I had with Dave felt real, raw, and consuming. Being with him might not come with financial freedom, but it came with passion, pleasure, and the kind of connection I would never have with Mike.

So, what do I choose? Go with Mike, for lust laced with obligation and wealth, or stick with Dave, for love that burned like wildfire?

Love or lust? Which one do you think I would go for?