Little Stranger (The Web of Silence Duet, #1)

by Leigh Rivers

I did go to my friend’s house the other night, but I snuck out when everyone fell asleep, and instead of climbing in my own window, I climbed right into Malachi’s. But that’s a normal thing siblings do, right?

Mmmm no

He’s possessive of me because I’m his sister, not because he wants to fuck me into next week.

Being so turned on by this is insanity. Maybe I’m the one who needs to see a therapist?

Don’t grind your ass on my cock and I won’t accept the invitation.

Ha!

Do I need a reason? Give me your hand, or I’ll tell Mom you touched my dick while I was asleep.

No. You were mine when we were kids, and you’re mine now. You’ll always be mine.

But you are my sister. My dirty little sister who’s going to touch herself in front of me. Show your big brother what you sound like when you come.

Don’t silence me like that, he signs furiously. Don’t ever fucking silence me, Olivia.

Stop saying that. We aren’t blood related. You aren’t my real sister, so what’s the goddamn problem?

Because I want to do things to you, and you calling me that makes me want to do even dirtier things to your mouth.

Yes, I would love to come with my brother. Maybe he’ll take me somewhere on his motorbike and eat me out on it. Or better, bend me over it?

Ha!

“And I want to hear your voice while I’m bouncing all over your cock, big brother.”

Because I can’t talk? Because I can’t tell you how fucking breathtaking you are every second of every day? Because I can’t breathe without being near you? Someone like me… I’m different—I can’t be normal for you. I can’t defend you without using my fists or my bat, and I can’t touch you at the same time as telling you that you’re everything to me. I can’t whisper sweet nothings into your mouth and I can’t fucking marry you because not only am I your brother, but I’m defective.

Believe me or don’t, but you’re the only person in my life, and you always have been. And when you take your last breath, or I take mine, that won’t fucking change. You. Are. Mine. My goddamn property, do you understand?

If Malachi was free, I’d want it to be him to make all my fantasies come true, she had written in her journal.

Our parents hated me—I was the adopted kid they never should’ve signed for. She was the angel—still is to me, despite everything—and I was the mistake.

My world revolves around her and always has. And if that’s not a good-enough version of love for her, and I can’t make her happy, then what’s the point?

I kiss her—the only girl I’ve ever imagined giving my heart to. It might be a little black, a little jagged around the edges, and my mind might be a little wild, but she owns them.