“What did he say?” She has her hands on the lapels of my jacket.
When I don’t answer but keep my gaze on my brother she turns to him.
“What did you say?” she asks him.
Gregory’s gaze is burning daggers into me.
Does he want it? Does he want that for her?
“We’re leaving,” I say to her, taking her by the arm. She stumbles when I lead the way to the door.
She looks back at Gregory once we’re out in the hallway and it pisses me off.
I stop.
“You want to go back?” I ask, giving her a shake.
“No. Christ. I can’t even look at him without you thinking I want him?”
“I know him, Helena.”
“You’re brothers, Sebastian. That means something because from what I can see, you need each other.”
“You have no fucking idea what you’re saying.”
We make it down the stairs without her toppling and when we’re outside, she stops.
“At least let me take these off.”
She reaches down to remove the sandals. Like glass slippers. Like she’s Cinderella.
When we’re back on the boat, she stops me. “You can’t leave him there.”
“He’ll get back. He always does. Can’t manage to lose the son of a bitch.”
“Sebastian, you don’t mean that.”
“How do you know what I mean?” I snap. The look on her face is stunned and I run a hand through my hair, take a deep breath in. “Fuck.” I shake my head. “Go inside and sit down. Give me some space. I need to cool down.”
Remarkably, she does as she’s told and goes inside. It’s probably the cold as much as anything else, though. She must have dropped her wrap when we were in Gallo’s office.
Before Helena, Gregory and I didn’t fight. We weren’t best friends or anything, but we didn’t fight. Not like this. This Willow Girl thing, it’s driving a wedge between us and it’s like an echo of Lucinda’s words on the night of the reaping.
It’s history repeating itself.
It happens with every generation.
When we finally get back, Helena goes upstairs, and I head out to the patio. After taking off my jacket and bowtie, I stack wood in the fire and light it before sitting down with my whiskey. I look at my brother’s empty chair.
Helena returns a few minutes later wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. She’s barefoot and when she sits, she tucks her knees under herself.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“You’re right. We’re brothers. And I’m letting this thing come between us.”
“This thing. Me.”
I nod. Drink. Offer her my glass.
She shakes her head.
“I think he’s just lonely, Sebastian. I think he’s alone.”
“You two are chummy.”
“It’s not like that. I thought he was a jerk in the beginning. I mean, he still is, a lot of the time. But when I talk to him, I also think he’s lonely. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”
She’s not wrong. I know that.
The sound of swiftly approaching footsteps alerts us both to his arrival.
I glance up to find Gregory with his tie undone, his forehead creased, holding Helena’s wrap. It looks strange in his hand, the feminine, pretty cashmere wrap.
I pick up the whiskey and pour him a glass.
Helena gets up, takes the wrap from Gregory.
“I’ll go upstairs and let you two talk.”
“Stay,” I say.
My brother takes his glass, sits.
Helena watches us, sits on the hearth with her back close to the fire. Her little toenails are painted a muted pink. I wonder when she did that.
It takes a few minutes before we start talking. We’re both looking into the fire and not at each other and not at Helena. And neither of us mentions what just happened. What’s been happening for a while now.
“You believe Gallo?” Gregory asks.
“I don’t know. It makes sense that Lucinda would bully the girl into giving her a copy of the key. I just wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t realized his key was missing in the first place. What would have happened if the girl had put it back and he never noticed.”
I see Helena is watching me from my periphery. She knows what I’m talking about.
“I don’t think she meant to kill her,” Gregory says. He turns to Helena. “Sorry.”
“Who knows with her. She’s just crazy enough and she had nothing more to lose. Not after trying to shoot me.”
“Get you out of the way before you share your information and out Ethan. Take away any claim he has to the Scafoni inheritance.”
“I wasn’t ever going to out him. That was the point. That was why I went to her in the first place.”
“Yeah, well,” Gregory starts, emptying his glass. “Lucinda’s got history with the Willow Girls.”
Helena shudders.
I turn to Greg, put my hand on his shoulder. This next part I say in Italian. I don’t want Helena to understand. “I stand by what we agreed. I don’t ever want you to bring up the alternative.”
Helena perks up, her forehead creases in annoyance.
Gregory nods and we drink a second glass.
I look at Helena.
“I want to watch,” I say.
Her skin flushes and her gaze drifts to Gregory who is gazing into the fire.
“Same rules. No kissing on the mouth,” I tell Greg, then turn to her. “And if you come, I’ll punish you.” I know it’s not fair, but I don’t care.
Her throat works as she swallows, and Gregory takes one more sip before getting to his feet. Helena looks up at him and I like this difference in size. She’s so small next to us. So fragile.
He holds out his hand.
She studies it for a long minute before placing her smaller one inside his and rising to stand on her bare feet.
Greg walks her to the long table.
I lean back in my chair, cross one ankle over my other knee.
He noisily shoves a chair out of the way and tugs Helena to stand before it. He doesn’t bother to strip her, just pushes her sweater way up, slides the cups of the bra under her tits and drags his nails across them before turning her so she’s facing me and pushing her to bend over the table.
He then unceremoniously shoves her jeans and panties down and off, and nudges at her knee with one of his so she spreads her legs.
She steps out of both jeans and panties and complies, and he looks down at her and I know what he sees. Her perfect ass, round and full, her long slender legs.
Before touching her, he takes off his jacket and tosses it over the arm of the chair he just shoved aside, then tugs his tie off and drops it on top. He unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and pulls it out of his slacks before undoing his belt, letting it hang open as he nudges her knees wider and steps between them, leans over her for a moment, taking her arms and stretching them out to either side.
She turns her cheek and he first kisses it then her neck.
“Eyes on my brother,” he whispers loud enough that I hear it.
She does as he says, and I hold her midnight blue gaze, my dick hard when she licks her lips, anticipating.
It’s going to be very hard for her to not come.
Gregory straightens, puts his hands on her ass, draws her open. He looks at her, and I imagine him seeing her pretty little asshole, her cunt which, from the look on her face, is already wet. He runs his fingers over her clit up through her pussy and if I know my brother, he’s smearing her juices onto her asshole.
Helena shifts from foot to foot and arches her back. She’s gripping the sides of the table.
“Remember, Helena. If you come, you’ll be punished.”
She makes a sound, nods, looks away for a minute.
“We’ll know,” I add, just in case she thinks we won’t.
Gregory snorts, unzips his pants, fists his cock.
/> I watch her face as he smears it in her juices, rubbing himself over her clit, her cunt, her ass, and I know the instant he slides into her pussy and it takes all I have not to grip my own cock, pump it as I watch my brother fuck my Willow Girl.
He moves slowly at first, drawing out every thrust, making her arch her back and groan every time he pulls out.
Gregory holds her open and is watching his cock disappear into her, watching her stretch to take him. He pumps like this for a few minutes low and deep, before sliding one hand down, making her whimper when he takes her clit and rubs as he fucks her harder.
I get to my feet, undo the top buttons of my shirt, adjust my pants. I go to her, lean down, cup the back of her head and pet her.
Her breathing is ragged and sweat has collected on her forehead and I smile down at her. “Remember, sweetheart, don’t come.”
“It’s not fair,” she blurts out and squeezes her eyes closed when Greg smacks her ass.
I straighten, take in the sight of him fucking her, of his dick stretching her, one hand holding her spread, the thumb of that hand now circling her asshole.
“Not her ass,” I say. That’s mine.
He looks at me, nods, and I shift my gaze to her face again, and I hear the familiar sound she makes when she’s coming. She’s coming on my brother’s dick and he fucks her harder for it and in another moment, he’s coming too, thrusting deep into her, emptying inside her, filling up my Willow Girl.
“I’m sorry,” she starts, looking up at me. “I’m sorry.”
I lay my hand on her head, lay her cheek down.
Gregory pulls out, tucks his dick into his briefs and closes his pants. We both watch as cum drips out of her cunt and down her thighs and fuck, I’m fucking hard.
“I’m sorry,” she tries again.
I look up at Greg, then at her.
“What are we going to do with you, Willow Girl?”
14
Helena
I remain as I am, bent over the table, naked from the waist down, and almost so from the waist up. I feel cum dripping down my thighs as they stand behind me watching.
“It wasn’t really fair,” I try, not looking back, knowing it doesn’t matter. He knew I’d come.
“Shh.” Sebastian sits back down. “Stay,” he tells me.
Greg picks up his drink and follows him to sit and takes a sip.
“I feel responsible,” he says to Sebastian.
He’s got his back to me, but I can almost hear the smug grin in his voice.
“It wasn’t fair,” I try again from my place at the table, the night breeze cool on my naked ass.
“Life isn’t fair,” Gregory says.
“How are you going to punish me?”
“I’m going to leave that up to my brother,” Sebastian says.
Gregory turns to me with a grin on his face. “I’ll think of something special.”
My glare is interrupted by Sebastian’s command. “Go to your room, Helena.”
I’m surprised by this and a little put off at being sent away like a child.
“Go. I need to talk to my brother alone.”
I look at the both of them and I guess I should be grateful he’s letting me go. Although a look at Gregory tells me my punishment won’t be forgotten.
Without a word, I go to leave.
“Helena,” Sebastian says, stopping me when I get to the door.
I turn.
“Be ready for me when I get up there.”
I bite my lip, nod, and go upstairs. I didn’t really think he wasn’t going to fuck me tonight, did I? And honestly, don’t I want him to?
First thing I do is have a shower, taking my time. Before getting into bed, I retrieve Aunt Helena’s journal from beneath the mattress and re-read those final passages.
When I get the chance, I’m going to have to go back to the mausoleum and see if I can find the door that leads to the room below. I don’t know what I’ll find, don’t know why it matters, but it does.
I tuck it away in its hiding place and lay on my side, pulling the blanket over myself and closing my eyes. I don’t turn out the lights. I haven’t since I’ve been back from that dark room, not when I’m alone.
When I wake, it’s because of the sudden cold as my comforter is pulled from me.
I open my eyes to find Sebastian standing over me. He’s still fully dressed and he takes in my naked body.
“Did you leave the lights on on purpose?”
“I can’t sleep if it’s dark anymore. Not when I’m alone, at least.”
He nods, pulls his shirt over his head. I look at the scar.
“That must have hurt,” I say.
He looks at it too, then back at me. “It’s nothing.”
I sit up. “What did Gregory say to you in Gallo’s office? He said something in Italian that made you stop. What was it?”
He sighs, turns his attention to stripping off the rest of his clothes. “Nothing that matters.”
“It looked like it mattered.”
“Did it?” he asks, closing his hand over my ankle and tugging me to lie flat on the bed before spinning me onto my belly and pulling me toward him. “This is what matters right now,” he says.
I look back to find him kneeling between my legs beside the bed as he wraps his arms around my thighs and forces my back to arch. He looks at me like that, spread and open for him.
“Did you clean my brother’s cum out of you?”
I flush, but nod.
“Do you like getting fucked by him while I watch?” he asks, dipping his head to lick my pussy.
I bite my lip, grip the sheets.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a dirty girl, Helena,” he says, licking me in slow, long stretches, teasing my clit, making me want.
He stands up, puts his hands on my ass and spreads me open, touches a finger to my asshole. “This is mine,” he says as he draws me up to my knees.
I look back at him. He’s not looking at my face though.
“No one fucks your ass but me.”
“Why do you share me with him? It bothers you.”
“Does it bother you?”
I think about this. “I don’t know. I thought it would.”
“We shared girls before. Done it a few times. It was easier then.”
“Easier to share?”
He nods.
“Then don’t do it. Don’t share me with him.”
He holds my gaze as he pushes his cock into me. It’s too fast, and I’m not ready. It hurts a little.
“I like looking at you when you take him.”
He thrusts again.
“Are you always going to punish me after you make me fuck him?” Because that is what he’s doing. He’s punishing me now.
“After I make you? I think you like it.”
I pull away. I only manage it because he’s not expecting me to. I get off the bed, stand almost nose to nose with him.
“Don’t put this on me. You own me, remember? And you told him to fuck me.”
I don’t know why I’m so angry all of a sudden. Maybe it’s because there’s truth to his words? Maybe it’s because I do want it.
I like having them both. I do. But at the same time, Sebastian sharing me with his brother, it leaves a space between us. A barrier. And this makes no sense to me. It’s what I thought before. What I felt. When we were in Verona and he talked to me like he did. When he made love to me. I couldn’t take that because what I was feeling, what I am feeling, I cannot feel for him.
I think about my Aunt Helena, remember what I read in her journal. She was in love with one too.
In love with one.
What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with us Willow Girls?
“Get back on the bed, Helena.”
“I don’t feel like a fuck.” I shake my head, still in my thoughts, and walk around him, but he captures my arm, stops me.
“I said get on the bed. All four
s. Ass to me.”
I try to tug free. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Suddenly not in the mood?” he asks, taking both my arms now and backing me into the wall. “You were in the mood earlier,” he says, shoving me roughly against it.
“Stop.”
He lifts me up, lifts one thigh over his waist and impales me on his cock.
The roses embossed on the wallpaper press their pattern into my back.
“You were in the mood to fuck my brother but not me?” He thrusts again. He has one hand around my hip, digging fingers into my skin, and with the other, he’s holding my wrist to the wall above my head while I cling to him with my free arm.
“You told him to fuck me. You said you wanted to watch.”
“And you got off on it, just like you’ll get off now. Because your pussy’s wet enough.” His eyes are locked on mine as he thrusts in fast and hard and deep.
“What’s your problem?” I ask through shortened breaths while I cling to him. “You want it, you want to watch me get fucked by him, you set some ridiculous rule that I can’t come. You even give him permission to punish me. What does that even mean?”
“Shut up, Helena.”
“No, Sebastian, because if you own me, you own this too. You own what happens to me.”
“I said shut up.”
He tries to kiss my mouth, but I turn my face away and he ends up mashing his mouth against my cheek.
“You know what I think?” I start.
He releases my wrist and grips my jaw instead, makes me look at him.
“What do you think?”
I can hear us, hear the wet sounds of fucking, my resolve fading.
I’m going to come soon.
Anger transforms into sadness that settles inside my belly.
“I think there’s something wrong with us Willow Girls,” I say quietly.
He shifts his grip to cup my ass and, with his cock still deep inside me, he carries me to the bed and lays me down. He stands at the edge of it and pushes my knees up to fuck me deep, bringing his face close to mine.
“What’s wrong with you Willow Girls?” he asks.
I’m clinging to him, my hands on his shoulders and neck. I dig my nails into his skin, into his scar. He winces. I know it hurts him, but I also know he gets off on it.
Torn Page 9
