Butterfly

by Jo Brenner

Even walking, she looked like she was dancing.

I wanted her gone, before I did something that we’d both regret.

I was hard for a butterfly who would remain just outside of my grasp, unless I set fire to her wings.

Some people pinned butterflies to keep them close. I was going to make this one fly far, far away. After all, she was the most beautiful girl I’d seen in my entire life. I wanted her more than I wanted anything. And I hated her for it.

Mason was tall, and built, and his muscles needed their own zip code.

And then he’d opened that gorgeous, cruel mouth and ruined it all.

“Leslie, you do not want to fuck with me,” Mason warned.

“Maybe I do,”

“Careful, butterfly. Or I’ll really think you want to play with me.”

If so, I was never touching him again. This must be what a heart attack felt like.

“Mason, what are you doing?” God, my voice sounded breathy. “I don’t know,” he admitted, finally releasing me. “But I recommend you stay away from me before things get even more out of hand.” I should’ve listened to him.

“Let me go,”

“Maybe I don’t want to,”

“Watch me,” I told Mason. “Oh, butterfly,” he murmured,

“I’m always watching you.”

I’d been resisting how badly I wanted her for so long, I didn’t notice when she slipped under my skin and made a home there.

My cock went hard at the association. My butterfly wanted a daddy? She’d get one.

I had more important things to do. I had a butterfly to catch, after all.

And also: I’m a feminist. I don’t like this caveman bullshit.

“Tortured,” he agreed. “Tormented, tortured, did my best to make your life a living hell. It was only fair, you were making my life one, simply by breathing.”

“You still don’t get it, butterfly. You made my life hell because I couldn’t have you. Not when we were both under our parents’ roof. But I’m done with that. I’m taking what’s mine.”

“I swear to god, butterfly, if you let another man touch my pussy, there will be hell to pay. For both you—and him.”

She was mine, and would only ever be mine, and all I fucking wanted was to get my mouth on her and find out what mine tasted like.

Yes, she was mine, she just didn’t realize it yet. But she would.

“When you crave something this desperately, anything you have to do to get it is easy.”

“Why would I keep eating McDonald’s, when there’s a five-star, gourmet meal, right within reach?”

That’s what makes you a good girl—my good girl. You waited for me,”

“We need to stop.” He tsked. “I’m not stopping until you come on my fingers, butterfly. So you better come, if you don’t want anyone to see me fingering your filthy, sloppy pussy.”

I had plans for my stepsister—the long-term, own-her-forever, lock her down with a ring and plant-fucking-babies in her kind of plans.

Even if it meant skating ’til we dropped.

Worth it.

sometimes it took losing someone to realize that their absence was untenable. That you’d give up anything else that mattered to you to have them back.

She got territorial because on some level, she knew I belonged to her, just like she belonged to me.

“You know what my coffee order is?” “Butterfly, I know everything about you.”

I didn’t know how to stop him. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.

“Did you learn Disney for me?” I asked, shock making me forget my lust for a second. He kissed my forehead again, nuzzling my hair. “Butterfly, I’d learn how to pilot a rocket ship, if I thought it would make you happy.”

I was going to hell. And I didn’t even fucking care. Because if I was going to hell, I was dragging Leslie with me.

If I could learn fucking Mulan, could I learn to share?

Being mine meant she was my responsibility, and I’d fallen down on the job. But I was fixing it now.

know everything about you. I’ve majored in Leslie Berger, don’t you know?”