Page 26 of Chasing After You (Twisted Desires #3)

Dorian reached to his side, fingers tightening around the blindfold that lay there. He carefully covered my eyes with the cloth, tying a knot at the back of my head to keep it secure.

“How is that?” he asked.

“Good, just weird not being able to see.”

He chuckled darkly, making goosebumps erupt across my sensitive skin. “Good.” He leaned closer and nipped at my jaw. “Now I get to fucking ruin you for anyone else.”

I held my tongue, almost replying that he already had .

I jolted in my binds as my nipples were both pinched and pulled. The electric sensation came from nowhere, whereas if I hadn’t had the blindfold on, I would’ve seen it coming. The sudden pleasure caught me off guard.

“These are more sensitive than I thought they’d be,” Dorian mused pleasantly. “Have you played with your chest before?”

I whimpered as he continued to torture the buds—pushing them in, pulling them out, twisting them, flicking them. I huffed out, “Uh-uh.”

“Such a slutty body,” he muttered, shocking me again when one of his hands abandoned my throbbing nipples and reappeared wrapped around my hard length.

“ Oh, fuck ,” I whined, writhing in his grip.

“You’re dripping everywhere, sweetheart. Fucking hell. So helplessly horny that you have to have your little brother take care of you, huh?”

I moaned, “Yes, yes, please, Dori, please .”

His other hand released the nipple it’d been torturing and caressed down my abdomen, joining the other in focusing on my lower half. One stroked up and down my cock, while the other weighed my heavy balls and ventured further back to rub into my taint.

“Such a needy little whore,” he groaned against my collarbone, licking and sucking at the skin there.

The ropes dug into my skin the more I wiggled, and I was addicted to it. “I love this, I love this so much,” I cried, keening when a fingernail pushed against my slit.

“Yeah, you do,” he said. I could almost feel his smug smirk even though I couldn’t see it. His hands suddenly disappeared from my skin, making a concerned whimper slip out of my mouth. I needed his touch. I needed to come again.

I inhaled breathily as I heard the reason his touch had gone: the plastic click of the bottle of lube.

“ Oh , fuck,” I gasped as a wet digit pressed at my asshole. He didn’t respond as he rubbed soft circles against my rim.

I sank into that soft headspace again as I relaxed into his ministrations. My hips began rocking back ever so slightly, encouraging Dorian to continue.

I cried out as the finger pushed past my softened rim, slowly entering me where nothing else had ever entered before.

It felt weird. It didn’t hurt, but it felt less like pleasure and more like there was a foreign object somewhere it didn’t belong.

“It’ll feel good soon,” Dorian said, as if reading my mind. His other hand began working my cock again, causing warm pleasure to build inside of me.

His finger pressed against my inner walls, searching for my prostate.

“There!” I practically shouted when he found it.

“Yeah, that’s the magic spot,” he laughed.

He continued thrusting the one finger in and out, rubbing against the sensitive nub each time. My breath hitched when I felt a second finger pressing against my rim, demanding entrance.

“Please,” I mewled, feeling pleasure like I never had before. It was all-encompassing—the ropes against my skin, the confident hand milking my cock, and the fingers opening me up.

Once the second finger slid in, he began to really stretch me, scissoring his fingers against my inner walls.

“Doing so good,” he praised, his voice rough with lust.

“Please, fuck me! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I babbled, drunk on a pleasure high.

“Nope, I need to open you up properly. We’re almost there, I promise.”

I whined desperately, fucking back on his fingers greedily. “Please, please, please,” I begged, feeling just as much the slut as he kept calling me.

The hand jerking my dick pulled away. I was about to complain when a smack rang out, and my ass rippled with heat, pulling a strangled moan from deep within my chest.

“D-did you just— Dori. ”

“I wasn’t planning on hitting you today, but you earned that spank,” he declared, catching me even further off guard when a third finger pushed in beside the others in my tight channel. I yelped at the intrusion. “Your ass is going to feel fucking heavenly around my cock. It’s burning hot in here.”

“Cock, please, Dori,” I rambled, squirming against my binds. The third finger was a definite stretch, even a little uncomfortable, but I was running out of patience. I wanted Dorian’s cock, and I wanted it now .

He spanked me again, ripping another sharp gasp out of me. “Do you want it to hurt a little? Is that it? Is that why you’re acting like an insatiable whore? Begging your little brother to fuck your tight ass?”

“P-please,” I whimpered, moaning wantonly as three fingers repeatedly tagged my prostate.

“You’re fucking drooling for it. Damn,” he groaned as he slid his fingers out of me.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

“Nooo,” I sobbed as my hole clenched around the silicone toy entering me. “Don’t—” I didn’t want a toy! What didn’t he understand? I didn’t want something fake.

“Jesus, Josh. Just a bit longer with this,” he promised.

And even though I hated that a toy was inside me instead of Dorian’s dick, it reached far deeper than his fingers had, striking hidden places that sent lightning bolts up my spine.

I fucked back onto it, moaning especially loudly whenever he ground it in deep.

“You like that? My cock’s going to reach even further,” he purred.

“God, please, please, Dori! I don’t care if it hurts! I need your dick now! I’m going to fucking die if you don’t put it in and stir me up inside. I need it, please,” I blubbered, tears streaking down my flushed face.

“Fuck,” he grunted, ripping the toy out of me. “The fucking mouth on you.”

I sobbed louder when I felt the warmth and velvety feel of his head notching against my hole. As I opened my mouth to beg some more, I screamed—he had thrust his entire length into me all in one go.

Dorian was still for a moment, breathing heavily against my neck as his body wrapped around mine. He was kneeling behind me, panting as my hole spasmed around him.

“ Mine ,” he growled before viciously biting down on the side of my neck. I wailed at the sharp pain. “How do those piercings feel, angel?”

“S-so g-good,” I sobbed, my thighs shaking.

Too many sensations.

He released my neck from his teeth, and I whined lowly as his tongue licked over the bite to soothe it.

Pressing a kiss to the injury, he rolled his hips back, pulling his cock almost all the way out of my channel. Groaning, he then thrust back in, pegging my prostate and making me cry out. His piercings rubbed all the right spots inside of me, bumping and pushing against my sensitive inner walls.

The next few minutes went similarly—Dorian fucking into my virgin ass roughly, as if to permanently carve out a space for himself.

In and out and in and out.

Over and over, drawing my need endlessly higher.

“N-need to come,” I gritted out, feeling my orgasm hastily crest.

“Come on your brother’s cock, angel,” Dorian snarled, reaching around my waist to wrap his hand around my dick.

Cum erupted from me, and my body shook through wave after wave of red-hot pleasure. I yelled out his name, riding out my orgasm. “Dorian! Dorian! Dori!”

Dorian shouted out as he came, hips stuttering as he released deep inside of me. The overflowing warmth of his cum brought on another, smaller wave of pleasure, causing a few more spurts to empty out of me.

* * *

I don’t know how long I stayed like that—fucked out, wrapped up in rope, soaked in cum. It could’ve been two minutes, or it could’ve been two hours. The soothing darkness of the blindfold and the fuzzy feeling I got from being restrained made time seem irrelevant.

But at some point, I felt Dorian shift behind me. The mattress dipped as he leaned back to slip out of my now well-used hole. I vaguely heard myself whine at the sudden emptiness.

“I’m going to start untying you, but I want you to drink this water first,” he said quietly.

My eyes fluttered open slowly as he removed my blindfold. The room felt dimmer than before, or maybe just softer, like I’d been underwater and was only now breaking the surface.

“Okay,” I breathed, watching him raise a glass of water to my lips. He held it slightly tipped, slowly pouring the refreshing, cool liquid into my mouth. I sucked it all down, moaning as it quenched the thirst I hadn’t realized I had.

He started at my wrists—the knots he’d tied with such certainty earlier now came apart like silk under his fingers. He was gentle, like the undoing was just as crucial as the restraint had been—maybe even more.

The pressure hugging my body left slowly, like the echo of something warm slipping away. I whimpered at the loss.

Dorian pressed chaste kisses against my skin and murmured, “I know. It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you.”

He didn’t rush. He lowered my arms with quiet reverence, cradling one, then the other, giving my shoulders a soft squeeze—maybe to ease the stretch, or maybe just to say I’m here .

My muscles tingled, waking up as circulation returned to my limbs.

When he started on the chest harness, I tilted my head down to watch him. He focused entirely on the knots, brow slightly furrowed in concentration, mouth drawn tight in that way it always was when he was focused.

The ropes peeled away one loop at a time. Each one released a little more tension, not just from my body, but from somewhere deeper, more complicated to name. It was like I’d been carrying something I didn’t know I’d picked up, and Dorian was helping me set it down.

He bundled the rope neatly beside him once the last knot was gone, then looked at me.

“There. Are you doing alright? How are you feeling?”

I nodded, still a bit out of it. “Yeah. I just…” I swallowed, my tongue feeling too heavy in my mouth. “That felt… weird. But good. Like… my brain shut up for a minute. It was so good.”

A flicker of something passed over his face—pride, maybe.

A silence stretched between us, thick but not uncomfortable.

My body felt at peace. I wasn’t used to that.

I wasn’t used to peace .

“Thank you,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes softened, and he nodded once, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You’re perfect, angel. So perfect.”

He stood from the bed, walking over to one of the drawers for a moment. When he came back, he had a blanket in his arms—one of those absurdly soft ones he always had stacked in the linen closet. Without a word, he wrapped it over my shoulders and pulled me down to lie in his embrace.

My limbs ached just enough to remind me that this was real, that it had happened.

“I’m so tired,” I mumbled, eyelids falling shut.

“I know, angel. Get some rest. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

I let myself drift off to sleep, feeling more whole than I had in a long, long time.

Maybe in forever.