Kayla's teeth find my bottom lip in a bite that's just shy of drawing blood, and I can't help the pathetic whimper that escapes me. We're tangled on her bed, the clock reading 11:23 PM, Mom's gentle snores audible from down the hall if you listen closely enough.
"You let her drive you home," Kayla hisses against my mouth, her fingers twisting in my hair and yanking my head back to expose my throat. "In her fancy fucking Audi."
"I didn't have a choice," I gasp as her lips attack the sensitive spot below my ear. "Mom arranged it. You know I'd rather…"
She silences me with another bruising kiss, her tongue invading my mouth with possessive fury. The metallic tang of blood mingles with the taste of her, and I realize my lip is actually bleeding now. It only makes me harder.
"You could have waited," she growls, her knee pressing between my thighs with deliberate pressure. "Could have called me. But no, you just hopped right into Megan's car like an obedient little puppy."
Her hand slides under my shirt, nails raking down my chest hard enough to leave marks. The sharp sting makes me arch into her touch, seeking more of that exquisite pain-pleasure that only Kayla knows how to deliver.
"I texted you," I protest weakly, my hands clutching at her back as she bites down on my collarbone. "You didn't answer."
"And that makes it okay?" She pulls back suddenly, straddling my hips as she glares down at me. Her short black hair is wild, her green eyes blazing with something dangerous and beautiful. "To let another woman take what's mine?"
I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. She's jealous, gloriously, irrationally jealous, and I'm loving every second of it. Her possessiveness feeds something primal in me, satisfies a need that exists deep into my core.
She notices my expression, her eyes narrowing as she takes in my flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "You're enjoying this," she accuses, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You like making me angry."
"Maybe a little," I admit, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.
Kayla studies my face for a long moment, something shifting in her expression. She sits back slightly.
"I don't know if I'm feeling this tonight," she says suddenly, her voice cooler than it was moments ago.
"Wait, Kayla, no," I say, panic rising in my chest as I grab her wrist. "Please don't be mad. Mom literally told me I had to go with her. I didn't have any choice."
The desperate edge in my voice makes her pause, those fierce green eyes studying my face for any hint of deception.
"I wanted to be with you today," I continue, my voice softening as I reach up to touch her cheek. "Only you. Always you. If I could have waited for you, I would have."
Something darkens in Kayla's expression. In one fluid motion, she slams me back against the mattress, pinning my wrists above my head with enough force to make me gasp. Her body presses down on mine, all soft curves and hard muscle.
"You're disgusting, Travis," she hisses, her face inches from mine. Her eyes burn with fury and desire, a combination that makes my heart race. "Look what you've done to us. You wanted to fuck your sister so badly you've completely ruined us both."
I should feel shame at her words, but instead, pure bliss washes over me. The accusation in her voice, the disgust mingled with hunger in her eyes, it's everything I've ever wanted. My body responds instantly, straining upward against her restraining grip.
She notices my reaction, the way I'm practically melting beneath her despite her harsh words. A snarl of frustration twists her beautiful features.
"Open your mouth," she commands.
I comply instantly, parting my lips without hesitation or thought. My submission is instinctual, absolute.
Kayla hovers above me, her eyes locked on mine as she parts her lips slightly. Slowly, deliberately, she forms a strand of saliva that descends in an unbroken line toward my waiting mouth. I watch, transfixed, as it stretches between us, glistening in the dim light of her bedroom. When it finally lands on my tongue, warm and intimate, I shudder with pleasure.
"You like that?" she whispers, disgust and arousal battling in her voice. "You like tasting your sister's spit, you fucking freak?"
My eyes must be giving everything away, the worship, the obsession, the absolute surrender. I can feel myself looking at her like she's a goddess descended to earth just for me.
"Yeah," I breathe, the word carrying all my devotion. "I love it, Kayla. I love everything about you."
Something in Kayla's eyes softens, the fire of jealousy dimming as she stares down at me. She releases my wrists and slumps forward, burying her face in the crook of my neck with a frustrated groan.
"Fuck, Travis," she mutters against my skin, her arms wrapping around me in a fierce embrace. "I can't stand the thought of you alone with her. With any girl." Her voice cracks slightly, revealing the vulnerability beneath her dominant facade.
I wrap my arms around her quickly, holding her so tightly against me that I can feel her heartbeat against my chest. My fingers thread through her short hair, cradling the back of her head.
"I don't want anyone else," I whisper fervently, pressing my lips to her temple. "Not Megan, not any girl at school. Just you, Kayla. Only you."
She sighs heavily, her forehead coming to rest against mine.
"You know you're completely fucked up, right?" she says, her voice softer now, almost tender despite her words. "Normal people don't get harder when their sister calls them disgusting. They don't beg to be spit on and degraded."
My lips curve into a smile, my hands sliding down to rest at the small of her back. "I've never wanted to be normal."
"Clearly," she snorts, but there's affection in her tone. Her fingers trace the outline of my jaw, gentle now where they were punishing before. "Most guys would be running for the hills if a girl treated them the way I just treated you."
I furrow my brow, a genuine confusion washing over me. "But... you make me feel so loved when you treat me like that," I say, my voice soft and earnest. "Special. Happy. Like I'm the only thing that matters to you."
Kayla pulls back slightly, studying my face with an expression I can't quite read. "Don't you want to be respected, though?" she asks, her tone surprisingly serious. "Don't you think you deserve better than... that?"
"I feel respected," I answer immediately.
She rolls her eyes, clearly not believing me. The dismissive gesture only makes me more determined to make her understand.
"No, really," I insist, grabbing her hands in mine. "If I ever asked you to stop, truly stop, you would. I know you would."
Her expression softens slightly, and I can see her defenses lowering. It's the perfect moment to shift the mood. I let a mischievous grin spread across my face, my eyes glinting with playful challenge.
"Unless, of course, I made you too mad one day," I add, my voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Maybe someday I'll push you so far that you wouldn't stop even if I begged you to."
The moment the words leave my lips, something snaps in Kayla's eyes. That dangerous glint I love so much flashes like lightning, and before I can react, she lunges forward.
"You think you can handle that, little brother?" she growls, grabbing my wrists.
I decide to test her, struggling against her grip with a playful smirk. "Maybe I can take you this time."
It's a ridiculous claim. We both know it. But I can't resist poking the beast.
I twist suddenly, attempting to flip our positions in a surprise move. For a split second, I think I might succeed until Kayla counters with practiced ease, her years of training making my effort look pathetic. We tumble off the bed in our struggle, and somehow, in the chaos, I end up on top of her as we hit the floor.
My face lands directly on her exposed midsection where her shirt has ridden up. The impact knocks the wind from me, but as I catch my breath, I'm confronted with the perfect, sculpted landscape of her abs. Each defined ridge gleams slightly in the dim light, a testament to her strength and discipline.
It's too late to stop me. Hell, I can't even stop myself. I press my tongue flat against her stomach, dragging it slowly across one perfect ridge, then another. The taste of her skin, salty, and something uniquely Kayla floods my senses, driving me into a frenzy.
"Travis, what the fuck…" she starts, then cuts off with a sharp intake of breath as I trace each muscle with desperate attention like I'm mapping territory I'd die to claim.
My tongue traces the path like a pilgrim on sacred ground, honoring every curve and ridge of her sculpted body. My hands grip her sides to hold her in place as I devour her with single-minded focus.
"Jesus Christ," she whispers, her initial shock melting into something else entirely.
I feel her fingers slide into my hair, not pulling me away but guiding me, sometimes tugging just hard enough to make my scalp tingle with pleasure. Her breathing changes, becoming deeper, more measured as I continue my devoted attention to her stomach.
"You're such a freak," she sighs, but there's no bite to her words, just affection and arousal mingling in her voice.
My lips travel lower, tracing a wet path down the center line of her abs toward her navel. I'm so lost in the sensation that I barely register her words at first.
"Travis," she says, her voice husky but firm, "if you keep worshipping my abs like they're your personal religion, we're not going to have time to fuck before Mom wakes up."
I freeze, my tongue still pressed against her skin, as panic floods through me. The thought of wasting our precious nighttime hours makes my heart race with genuine anxiety.
"Can't we just do both?" I ask desperately, looking up at her with what must be the most pathetic expression.
Kayla bursts into laughter, the sound vibrating through her stomach against my cheek. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she stares down at me, that rare, unguarded joy transforming her face into something so beautiful it hurts to look at directly.
"You're ridiculous."