He sighs and grabs my chin, turning me back to face him. Tapping my bottom lip, he says, “Open.”
My cheeks warm, and I open my mouth. Jaxon tilts his head as he looks inside and sticks his finger into my mouth, searching for anything missing. My core pulses as dirty images pop into my mind. Things I’ve read in the manga books I enjoy getting lost in play a part in it and feed the fantasy. Or the fan fiction of said books that these creative authors came up with.
A forbidden fantasy plays in my mind, where Jaxon says for me to open my mouth for a different reason. Or how his fingers would be in my mouth while he’s behind me when I’m on all fours, holding me like that as he slams his cock into me.
A small moan slips past my lips. Jaxon freezes, his finger pausing mid-swipe in my mouth. Our eyes meet for a moment before I quickly avert mine, too embarrassed to look at him.
This is why I’m bullied. I’m so goddamn awkward.
Jaxon finishes checking my teeth and drags his finger out of my mouth, his touch lingering on my bottom lip. “How’s your throat?” he murmurs huskily.
I swallow and wince. “Hurts.”
He cups my neck, his fingers gently prodding at the sore areas. I hold back the squeak working up my chest as he lodges his hips between my spread legs so he can get a closer look at me. My pulse drums in my ears, and every part of me becomes hyper-aware of my big brother’s touch.
“Where else do you hurt?” Jaxon drags his hands down my neck, lingering over the top of my sternum.
“My ribs,” I whisper. They don’t hurt as bad as my throat, but Mickey landed a powerful kick to my side.
Jaxon looks me in the eye, a warning of what he’s about to do. I don’t stop him as he raises my crop top, exposing mystomach rolls and stretch marks, then my see-through lace bra. I forgot I put that on earlier, and gasp as my hands fly up to my chest to cover my breasts from his view.
Jaxon lifts his gaze to my face, his eyebrows drawing downward with a frown.
“I forgot I put this bra on,” I say in a rush. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re apologizing to me for seeing your tits?” He cocks his head, confused, but amusement reflects in his dark-brown eyes. Shaking his head, he looks back at my ribs and eases my hands from my breasts.
“Why are you doing that?” I stammer, and shove his hands away.
“Checking for any wounds that might be there.” He grabs my wrists.
I shake my head and cover myself again. “I can check myself later.”
“No offense, little sister,” Jaxon says, “but you have big tits, and it’ll be hard for you to see everything. Let me help you.”
My stomach flips several times, and I breathe harder. I don’t want him to know how much this turns me on or that I don’t even feel pain at this moment—unless you count the pain between my legs.
Jaxon notices my worry, and he leans forward until his nose brushes against mine. His hands settle on my waist, which has always been the spot he grabs when he touches me. “I’m not judging you,” he coos as he squeezes my love handles.
Oh, he’ll judge for sure if he sticks his hands down my shorts. That will be the one place I won’t ever,everlet him check for any wounds whatsoever.Ever.
Jaxon patiently waits, his eyes hooded and lips parted. He relaxes while he takes care of me, and I can’t bring myself to say no to him. I slowly nod. He smiles and leans away from me to continue exploring.
I bite my bottom lip and tuck my hands beneath my thighs to keep from covering myself while he inspects me. Jaxon drags his fingers over my sides, pointing out some bruises before going higher. My legs squeeze around his waist as he gently lifts my bra, freeing my heavy breasts from their confines.
My nipples harden into tight, sensitive peaks that ache to be played with. Jaxon trails his fingertips over one, then spreads his fingers over my breast as he raises it to look underneath. I squeeze my eyes shut, biting back a whimper as he touches me. I have to remind myself that he’s only helping me and not trying anything sexual with me.
He lets my breast fall, but he keeps grabbing it, his fingers tightening as he palms my breast like a kitten would when it’s fluffing a spot to sleep on. A breathy moan escapes me the moment he touches my nipple, pinching it between his fingers.
“Is that necessary?” I shift my hips to stop the pulsing in my clit.
“Yes.”
I can’t muster any more words as he turns his attention to my other breast, doing the same thing by touching it, lifting it, then pinching my nipple. When I think he’s done, he surprises me as he cups both breasts. I blink open my eyes, my lips parting and hips moving on their own as he palms me more roughly, like he’s losing control.
“Does this hurt?” he asks in a gravelly voice. His split tongue pokes out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s imagining what I taste like.
I quickly shake my head.
