Third Debt

Kes grasped my wrists, tugging on the sash, arching my back.

He nipped at my throat, running his warm tongue down the top of my spine. His fingers quickened, along with his hips. My thoughts disintegrated as his touch slipped on my clit and found wetness.

“Fuuuuck.” His thrusts turned erratic and savage. His fingers lost uniformity.

I moaned.

I couldn’t help it.

It felt good.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to embrace it.

I wanted to die for who I’d become.

The covers shifted and clung, no doubt making it seem as if Kes took me with nothing barred. My mouth opened to breathe faster. Kes surprised me by sealing his lips completely over mine.

I stiffened.

I didn’t know what to do.

A kiss was somehow even more intimate than the fake-fucking we indulged in. Then his fingers tickled from my clit to entrance. I moaned. I couldn’t decide if it was a beg to stop or permission to keep going.

The fear that any minute he might stop being a gentleman trying to save me and fuck me against my will added the element of danger.

He shuddered as he slipped a fingertip barely inside me.

The taboo. The forbiddenness. The wrongness of what we were doing consumed me.

I couldn’t stop the detonating bliss just like I couldn’t stop my blood from flowing.

I came.

The second my body exploded around his finger, his tongue entered my mouth and I didn’t fight it.

I welcomed it.

For one delicious spiralling moment, I let go of right and wrong. I forgot about Jethro and ignored the messy aftermath.

I gave into pleasure.

Kes pulled me back against him, pleasure and need rumbling in his chest.

My fear completely subsided.

I trusted him.

All this time he’d been there guiding me. Looking after me.

His hand clutched my hip, forcing me to rock against his fingers. His cock branded my back as my core contracted again and again, heaven shooting through my system.

He spooned me harder, his legs entwining with mine. “Shit.”

I let out a cry of ecstasy as my orgasm took me high, high, higher before snipping me free and hurtling me back to earth.

My ears rang. My heartbeat was a noisy jackhammer.

His lips sought mine again and I kissed him back. Our tongues tangled and I catalogued the difference between brothers. Jethro was fierce and controlling. A dominant, mysterious man through and through. Kestrel was eager and ferocious, taking everything with boyish charm. “Fuck, I don’t want to come. I promised myself I. Would. Not. Come.”

I believed him. I understood his decency and I couldn’t thank him enough.

But there was one thing I could do to show him my gratitude.

It was a gift I could give on my own accord.

I forced my hips back, crushing his cock against his stomach. His mouth opened wide; his body jerked as he poured curses down my throat. “Fuck, don’t do that. I’m going—”

“It’s okay,” I breathed. “It’s okay.”

A guttural grunt tore from his lungs as he lost all reason and rode my back.

His body bucked, his arm wrapped tight around me. The sheets glued to our mutual sweat as heat enveloped us. Remembering the performance, I cried loudly, “Stop. Please stop!”

He grabbed my wrists, locking them at the base of my spine.

For a split second, pain blared in my back.

“Shit, I can’t. I can’t fucking stop.” The bed creaked and his hand rose to cup my breast. He tweaked my nipple, gasping as my body bowed into him. “Fuck, he’s gonna kill me for this.” Then a hot wet spurt stuck us together as his legs twitched around mine.

Every tiny tremor vibrated his body.

His orgasm went on for a while, each jerk of his hips gluing me further to him. Our heartbeats raced, and the outside world ceased to exist. In that second, we cemented a deeper bond. Not of lust or love or even erotic connection—but a trust that would be forever lifelong.

We hadn’t had sex, but something had happened between us.

Something no one could take away.

He’d gone against his family. He’d saved me in the only way he could.

I owed him.

A lot.

And I would never ever forget it.

I LOVED MY oldest brother.

A fuck ton.

I’d always believed I’d been brought into the world in order to save him from himself.

I’d never begrudged him or wished our roles were reversed. I knew the tightrope he walked every damn day and was happy to be scot-free and living my own easy life.

But when I’d removed Nila’s clothing and she’d stood there bound and blindfolded, I fucking hated him.

I hated him for being too much of a pussy.

I hated his fucking condition.

I just wished he wasn’t so damaged. That I didn’t love him as much as I did. That I didn’t know every single trial he’d been through and just how deep and strong he was—beneath the bullshit layered on him by Cut.

When I’d grabbed her and put her on the bed, I’d been so hard I could’ve killed someone with my cock. When I’d removed my clothes and slid in beside her, I could’ve come from the gentle friction alone. And when I’d slipped and felt her wet heat when I had no right to touch that part of her, I couldn’t stop it anymore.

I had to come.

I would disintegrate if I didn’t.

He’d asked me to do this.

This was his plan. Not mine.

When he’d come to me with his scheme, I’d told him. Full disclosure. I hadn’t held back. He knew that I found her fucking gorgeous. He knew I found her spirit, sharp tongue, and stubbornness a huge turn-on. His temper had flared. His condition reacted. And he’d looked like he wanted to sucker-punch me then tear my dick off. But he’d come to the same conclusion I had.

There was no other way.

His heart had made the decision, and there was no other alternative.

So, we’d agreed. Against my better judgement, I’d promised. And against his instincts, he’d trusted me.

Unfortunately, tonight I’d betrayed that trust.

I wanted to fuck her so badly. I wanted her writhing with pleasure and calling out my name. My name. Not his.

Seeing her bare dragged desires from me that I’d kept buried out of respect for Jet. He was my fucking brother. We’d grown up together. There was no other loyalty stronger than that.

But Nila…

Shit.

When I’d undone my belt and stepped from my boxers, I’d wanted to tear off her blindfold and show her who would be taking her. I wanted her to look at me. Truly see me. I wanted her eyes on my cock and her breath on my skin. I wanted her to look at me the way she looked at my brother.

My dick was harder than it’d been since I’d had a foursome with some club bunnies. I craved Nila with every cell, but I didn’t want her for my own.

I wanted to ‘borrow’ her. Taste her—just once live in my brother’s shoes and have what he had. Was that so wrong? Was it so scandalous to want a piece of his inheritance?

I could answer my own question.

Yes, it was wrong. Yes, it was scandalous. And no, I would never go behind my brother’s back.

He’d given me permission to do this. He’d begged me to do this.

I hadn’t asked for payment or demanded anything in return.

Nila was gift enough.

When her tongue had tentatively touched mine, I’d wanted to grab her hair and kiss her with abandon.

Fuck the debts.

Fuck the family.

For once, I wanted what I wanted for me—not for any other reason.

But I was too damn honourable. Too well trained in hierarchy and fidelity.

I couldn’t do it.

She was so pretty. So tiny. Her stomach so flat and her small breasts the perfect handful. She truly was a doll. A woman I could easily fall for if I wasn’t a loyal Hawk.

Discipline and primogeniture—it’d all taught me my place from day one. But my love for Jethro…that was the padlock on coveting anything I might want.

Touching her pussy had been the hardest part of all. I’d almost fucked up and lost myself. It would’ve been so easy to open her arse cheeks and slip inside her—like Cut expected me to.

There was nothing worse than having a naked woman, with expectations to fuck her, when I couldn’t. But no matter how hard it was for me, it killed me to think of him watching.

I was doing this for him—but every thrust and moan from Nila would’ve torn his fucking heart out. Pills or no, he wouldn’t get through tonight without some serious problems.

Nila didn’t know it—but she’d broken him completely.

And I’d been the conductor for his destruction.

Every sweep of my hands up her sides and every press of my fingers on her clit, I forced myself to remember who I was ultimately doing this for.

It was the only way I could continue.

However, then she’d given me permission. She’d understood my intentions and gave into me.

She let me come.

And I’d never been more fucking grateful.

Ever since she’d arrived, I’d been hypnotised by her dark eyes and the simplistic honesty of her truth.