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Soren

Waking up in bed alone isn’t a huge deal.

I’ve done it all my life, never having had to share the space with a brother or friends during sleepovers. There were no bunk beds for me, either. Just solitude, cool sheets, room to starfish.

Girlfriends, if they were long-term, went back to their places for the night. I never extended the invitation to stay, and if they asked, generally they found themselves distanced, respectfully, in the days that followed.

But waking up alone when I don’t have to, when the girl I’m screwing is across the hallway in her own bed and I actuallywantto feel her with me, makes no sense.

Why would Gilli want to sleep alone?

I turn on my side, burrowing deeper into the covers, caught in the state between asleep and awake. My teeth grind together, my beard itches, and my cock can’t decide if it’s time to rest or to try its luck warming inside of her.

It should bother me that Gilli trotted off to fuck Tase. I should be jealous or pissed off. One of those two normal and rational reactions.

Or is it better not to care, because she’s not in a relationship with me. Or Aiden for that matter, even though both ofus took our turns with her yesterday. She’s single without strings attached. Exactly the way I want it to be.

But she’s my goddamn stepsister, an inner voice insists. Like I need the reminder.

I’ve already gone too far as it is.

My fingers curl underneath the pillow and I yawn. There’s no jealousy, I think hazily. Only a quiet sort of contentment. The three of us have been a unit for a long time. It makes sense to find a woman who fits in seamlessly with us. Who doesn’t mind having us at the same time.

Why haven’t I considered it before?

Did it have to be her?

Yeah, I guess it did.

My mind fills with the memories of Gilli’s cries of ecstasy, the way her face flushes when she’s gagging on my cock. It’s enough to shoot me straight into wakefulness and engorge said cock so that I’m already hard and ready for her.

Fuck me.

I roll onto my back, my dick tenting my pants. I half consider touching myself, getting myself off. But in my head I’m hearing Gilli crying. Is she crying for joy, emotional after having been completely satisfied? My imagination feeds my ego that I am the one who moves her to tears?—

Wait. It’s not just in my head. Gilliiscrying, the sound distinct and desperate, frantic, not crying for joy but from terror. Sitting bolt upright, my eyes jolt open, my heart beating a million miles an hour.

Why the hell is she crying?What’s wrong?

I’m out of bed like a shot, striding out of my room. The sound is coming from the living room and there are no lights on. What time is it? Still nighttime, apparently. Still dark outside, but the glow from the moon casts slanted rays of silver across the floor. A dark shape is huddled on the couch. Alarm splinters through my system loud and clear.

“Gilli? What’s going on?”

The words barely leave my lips before agony explodes along my jaw.

Off balance, I lurch forward, catching myself at the last moment and turning just in time to accept another punch to my face for my efforts.

It takes half a second to realize what’s going on, and when I do, it’s too late. The three men are in motion, one on either side and the other with his hand squeezing Gilli’s shoulder.

Her terrified cries turn to an outraged sob.

I work my jaw and stop. The pain is annoying. Mostly because I didn’t expect it.

A hand clamps down on the back of my neck, the dude on the right forcing me down to my knees. The other steps behind me and wrenches my arms back despite my struggles. He pulls them damn near close to dislocation and lashes my wrists together with zip ties.

“This might have been avoided,” a silky male voice says, sounding like it’s spoken through a funnel, “if she hadn’t tried to run. But you did, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

Gilli gasps through whatever gag they’ve wrapped around her mouth before a soft thud of flesh on flesh sounds. I look up as her head snaps to the side.