A Family Affair: An Extreme Taboo Anthology - Page 35

He grinds his erection into my stomach as he bites down on my bottom lip. I grasp my purse tightly and attempt to hit him with it, but he catches my wrist before I can connect with his head. He holds me in place against the closed door with his hand around my neck.

"I love it when you fight back. Did you forget? Has it been that long? Guess I'll have to remind you. We have a lot of time to make up for my sweet Brianna."

He kicks my legs out from underneath me and I fall to the ground with him on top of me. It knocks the wind out of me and I lay there, struggling to catch my breath. He uses that time to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I gain a little bit of strength back as my diaphragm starts working again and I release the clutch I have on my stomach. My entire body is shaking in fear, but I can’t just lay here and let this happen all over again. I refuse to go down without a fight this time.

I throw a punch at him, but he is just out of my reach. I try to get his hands off of me by kicking my legs, but it's useless as he has my jeans around my ankles. I can't work them off to move my legs because they won't fit over my shoes, effectively imprisoning me in my own clothing. All of the energy that I exerted takes a toll on me and I give up my fight, collapsing beneath him.

Uncle Jack picks me up, and I scream. Holding me in a bear hug from behind, he places his hand over my mouth, drowning out any noise that would alert someone to my dire situation. My feet dangle below me, and he doesn't put me down until we reach the workbench on the other side of the storeroom.

He bends me over the thick slab of wood and pushes his hips against my ass, holding me in place so hard that the table cuts into my skin and bruises my hip bones. Removing his tie, he stretches my arms out against the table and threads it around my wrists, securing it to a vice on the other side of the table.

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve had you,” he says bending over me, covering my body with his completely. “After the stunt you pulled last year, I had to be careful when I came around. I couldn’t go near you. Your mom watched you like a hawk. You probably thought that I had forgotten all about you. Well, I never did."

He rips my work shirt open, and I hear several of the buttons scatter across the floor beneath me. Reaching into my bra, he pulls the cups down, leaving each of my boobs hanging free. He gropes them, squeezing them painfully. When he finishes, he pulls me backward as far as I can go so the slack is tight and my ass is out and entirely on display. He kicks my feet apart as far as my pants will let him, so I am spread a little wider for him.

“Brianna,” he pants. “You’re more lovely than ever.”

“And you’re still a sick fuck!” I scream back at him as angry tears stream down my face.

Suddenly I feel a sharp sting, followed by fire spreading across my skin as his hand connects with my ass.

"You'll watch your tone with me if you know what's good for you." He covers me with his body again.

He runs his hand down my side and in between my legs. Placing his fingers inside of my underwear, he traces my opening. I cry out, silently begging for all of this to be over. He forces his fingers inside of me and thrusts them in and out vigorously. It takes everything in me not to moan a little bit when he does. I hate that he elicits this kind of response from me.

“Brianna, you’re so tight. Were you a good girl while I was gone? You didn’t have any other boys inside of you, right?”

I refuse to answer and he reacts with another, much harder, smack to my ass.

“Right? You answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Right!” I sob.

He moves his fingers a little faster as he unbuckles his belt with his other hand. I hear his pants fall to the floor just before he rips my underwear from me.

“You have such a pretty pussy, Brianna.” Removing his fingers, he traces my crack and spreads my juices all over me.

I close my eyes in shame that he can make me wet like this. My treacherous body betrays me exactly how it used to. Nothing has changed in the past year. I thought that maybe I had gotten too old for him. Perhaps he had gotten bored with me. I started to dream of a better life. I've tried to swallow my fear and self-doubt. I've been working to build some confidence to move past everything that's happened. I had a plan. I was going to get my shit together and leave this town, never looking back. I'd hoped, and to hope is dangerous. It doesn't bring anything other than a crushing wave of disappointment and despair. I was stupid for thinking that it was all said and done.

When he crouches down behind me and takes a taste, loudly moaning his delight, my soul shatters all over again. It's too much; too personal. I'd rather him just fuck me and get it over with. I scream out in disgust, anguish, and anger as he pulls my ass cheeks apart a little further, diving his tongue inside and devouring me. His hunger is ravenous, and it feels like he is about to lose control of himself.

“The taste of you is the strongest aphrodisiac that I’ve ever had,” he says, pulling his face away from me. “I could feast on you all day long, but I can’t go any longer without being inside of you.”

My eyes fall beneath me and I can see him, fisting his dick, stroking himself as he licks me. I can feel the bile rise from my stomach into my throat, and I expel the entire contents of my stomach onto the workbench beneath me.

“Stop being so dramatic, you know you like this,” he says rising to his feet and running his fingers through my slit again. “The thought of being inside of you again, it’s consumed me for an entire year. You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

Without warning, he pushes himself inside of me, and I scream out. It hurts so bad that it feels like he's fucking me with a piece of sandpaper. He thrusts into me rapidly, over and over again. I look down between us, and I see some red-tinged wetness on the insides of my thighs. In ten minutes, he has managed to tear me to shreds all over again; physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I remember what Chelsea told me the other day; that Uncle Jack left her bloody and broken, too. That Bash came and took care of her, and they've been happy and able to heal since then.

Would they do the same for me, especially after what I said to them the other day?

I have to stop. I can't believe that I am even considering it. The fact that I am thinking of my cousins fucking one another, while my uncle fucks me, is too much to process right now.

As if his dick were a wrecking ball, every one of the walls that I built in my mind, walls that I created to try to protect myself from reliving the events of my past, were destroyed the second that he entered me again.

“Oh, Brianna, how I’ve missed this,” he slows down a little, “I want to savor every moment.”

Tags: Yolanda Olson Erotic
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