We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

The Worst Kind of Promise: Chapter 22

A RECIPE FOR DISASTER

FAYE

Hayes. As in, my brother. As in, right outside the door. Why is he here right now? I thought he was supposed to be at Aeris’.

I expect Kit to hide in the closet or fling himself out my window, but he doesn’t do either of those things. In fact, he doesn’t even come up for air.

My heart’s beating so hard that I’m afraid it’ll bruise my ribs. From where I’m sitting, I can see that the door’s locked, but somehow, that tiny piece of metal doesn’t feel like adequate protection.

Am I supposed to respond? What do I say? Do I keep the door locked? Won’t he get suspicious? Oh, God. This is the worst possible thing that could happen to us. I knew sneaking around would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be downright dangerous.

My mouth opens an inch, but Kit’s Goliath hand slaps over it. He’s still buried in my pussy, and all I can see are his jet-black eyes throwing daggers at me.

“Look, I get you don’t want to talk. I know you’re still mad. I didn’t really…apologize for how I acted. But you understand, right?” Hayes says from the other side of the door, his words only slightly muffled.

Could he have any worse timing?

If I try to say anything, the sound won’t get past Kit’s hand. At least we could share in the mortification, right? A funny story to be looked back upon when we’re gray and old and passing time in the senior retirement home.

But no, because Kit isn’t nearly as fazed as I am. In fact, he’s so unfazed that his tongue pushes further past my ring of muscle, licking every inch of me that he can reach.

Oh, God. I’m so close. I’m going to come. Fifteen feet away from my brother.

The pressure in my abdomen grows, a testament to Kit’s sheer stubbornness and merciless pursuit for revenge. My whole body trembles from the pleasure. My head empties of all thoughts upon the flat of his tongue and the purse of his lips as he sucks. My legs kick at the swelter of sheets, and Kit’s other hand anchors my flailing extremities, rendering me powerless to his onslaught.

“I was so worried about you. I’d never seen you act out like that. And I know I shouldn’t have been that harsh on you. I’m sorry.”

Hayes, stop talking! You’re ruining this for me.

I blurrily make out the ripple of sinew covering Kit’s back, how the swell of his biceps hardens as he eats me out, and the sloppy slurping sounds are almost so loud that I’m afraid Hayes can hear. There’s a blip in Kit’s pace, one that briefly allows me a moment of reprieve, and then I’m pulled back to the brink again, facing a twenty-foot tumble into a dark, starry abyss.

A moan lurches up my throat, and this time, I don’t hold it back. I let it fly at full volume, knowing that Kit’s palm will cloak it.

“I’m not saying you can’t do drugs. You can if you want, but the safe ones, okay?”

I can’t take this anymore. This is torture. I grind my crotch into Kit’s face, beseeching him to let me come, my arousal oozing out of me faster and harder than I thought was possible. The buildup is becoming marginally painful. My gut twists with exhilaration, pins and needles zinging down my back, leaving me in complete disarray.

“And it has to be around me or the guys. No one else. Definitely not at a party.”

And then, as I scream into Kit’s hand—biting him a little in the process—I climax, warmth flowing out of me in squirts of cum that Kit eagerly guzzles. I come until every drop’s been drained from me, and my muscles turn to jelly, my lungs working to make up for lost breath.

“You’re probably asleep, aren’t you? So I’ve just been talking to this door…the entire time. Great. Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow. Please, please be awake in the morning. Don’t make me look like a bigger idiot than I already am.”

Then the wondrous noise of Hayes’ footsteps fades down the hallway.

That was the best orgasm I ever had—well, besides the first one Kit gave me. But no way in hell am I letting him bask in the glory.

Kit slowly removes his hand from my mouth and stands up, my pearlescent arousal glimmering on the lower half of his face. My eyes absentmindedly drop downwards until I reach the soiled front of his running shorts. A dark stain covers his softening dick, and streams of cum trickle down the inside of his thigh, sticking to the forest of soft hairs on his leg.

My eyes widen. “Did you…?”

Kit doesn’t even look down. “Of course I did. Have you seen yourself, Faye? I can get off just by looking at you, by hearing your voice. I don’t need to fuck you to come.”

He leans in to kiss me, but he stops right in front of my lips, his breath wafting over me. “But it’s more fun if I do.”


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset