“So wet,” I muster out.
Prove it.
He drags his hand down to the band of my sleep shorts, dipping below and sliding through my slit.
I gasp, meeting my hips with the touch on my clit.
“I need to stop. I shouldn’t be doing this.” I open my eyes, about to sit up.
Did I tell you I am done?the man’s voice growls in my mind.
Tingles take over my body, and the pool between my legs grows. I can’t help but lie back and let this happen. I need this. As much as I know it’is wrong, a sin for a lady of the Divine to... please her own needs, I can’t stop how much I crave to be touched. Even if it is just by my own hands and the imaginary man in my head.
Good girl, Elliott. Now touch yourself again.
Just the sound of my old name makes me weak. I do what I am told, finding that friction again. My face bunches as I feel the swell in my core tighten.
I don’t hear you, Elliott.
I groan as the name washes over me, my hand picking up its speed.
I want to hear you begging for sin. This release you just can’t help but want...need.
A soft cry erupts. My whole body is on fire. The build of my release is coming on faster than it ever had before. The voice growls in my head, and I wither as my hand grows frantic in its touch on my clit. I pull at my nipple, letting the pain increase the coil tightening inside me.
“Eden!”
Samuel’s voice sounds panicked, and my door flies open just as I yank my hands away. Sitting upright, I’m out of breath, and my cheeks must a deep shade of pink, maybe even red.
“Are you okay?” He looks at me, confused, as I nod vigorously. “I heard you cry out. I thought you are hurt.”
I look away from him.
He heard me? Crap. I’m not able to look him in the eyes, knowing he heard me pleasuring myself. How embarrassing. I’m twenty-two years old, still living with my family.
The Divine has yet to give me the name of my chosen husband, and now... now. My brother hears me on the verge of a climax!
Shaking my head, I look at him. His gaze locks onto my lap before he drags it up to my chest. I follow his line of sight.
The sheets are pushed off a little from my thighs from when I scrambled to right myself when he came in. I don’t realize just how exposed I am, with my messy shorts and drawn-up top.
I push them down, trying to act casual. “I was having a dream. You woke me up from it, actually.”
I’m still not as confident as I am trying to come off as.
“A dream, huh? Were you taking a nap?” He takes long strides to the side of my bed. The mattress dips as he sits right next to me. I move back a little. “What kind of dream was it?” His eyes dip again to my lap.
I try to not let embarrassment show. “A bad one.”
“A bad one?” Lifting my duvet up slightly, he lets whatever he just saw underneath sink in before I can bat it down. “Doesn’t look like it was a bad dream to me. Tell me, little Eden. What was this dream about, sin?” He tips his head forward and inhales deeply.
“Don’t be weird, Samuel.” I brush off his comment as lightly as I can without him taking offense to it.
Samuel has become more and more protective and possessive of me since our father’s condition has worsened. I think it started that night he made me sleep in his bed a couple of years ago. Ever since then, every night, whether I go to sleep in my bed first or not, he takes me to his. It’s the same routine. He lies me down, hands me his shirt, and scoops me into his arms once we are all dressed and ready for the night. Then he entangles his body with mine and breathes me in. He says it’s the only way he can sleepanymore, and I don’t want to let him down. He needs me, and when I need him, he is there. I need to be there for him.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m his only real friend and loved one that is here for him or if he truly wants no one to have me but him. Either way, it has me feeling sick to my stomach more often than not. I can’t put my finger on it. I love Samuel, of course. He has always looked out for me, but a part of me lately has been telling me to keep at arm’s length.
His nostril flares as he takes in the scene. My cheeks are hot, my breath trying to hide my labored breathing, and my sheets are tousled.
