Folie À Deux (The Villainous Heroes Series, #0.5)

by Ruby Medjo

After all this time, she’s finally ours.

So what happens when the last time you saw your step-sister, you got a raging fucking hard-on seeing how beautiful she’d turned out to be? What happens when—no matter fucking what—you can’t get her out of your fucked up mind, despite how wrong it is?

The only thing worse is Jameson. Why? Because he feels the exact fucking same. Shouldn’t have surprised me when he’d seen me staring at her that he’d simply clapped his hand on my shoulder, squeezed, and said: “Me, too.”

Good thing we like to share—but only with each other.

“Bedrooms are upstairs. Yours will be between ours. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow for whatever shit you need.”

She’s so beautiful in her fear and sorrow, so pure, just like a babochka—a butterfly.

She is color, brightness, new life, and we are rot, decay, carrion. But the beautiful thing about that? The world needs both to function—just like we need her and she needs us.

Biting back the impulse to storm in and confess everything, I shove my door open and then slam it closed, locking it for good measure. I barely make it to the shower before I’m stroking my raging hard cock, her name forcing it’s way past my clenched teeth.

“Thank you for bringing this,” I say, my voice catching in my throat. They…were they…following me in here? Jameson’s eyes darken another few shades while Tristan pulls my change of clothes out of my grasp. “The tour doesn’t stop here, little butterfly.” What?

He breathes in deep, chest rising slowly before he releases it. When he speaks, I can understand him very clearly this time. “You’re a dirty girl, Alice. But you’re lucky.”

“Very lucky to have two big brothers like us, naughty little girl.” His words make my thighs clench, and my cheeks burn as I feel something warm and wet ooze into my underwear. It’s happened before when writing about them, or when reading dirty books. But here and now? It feels like his words have unleashed a dam in my panties. Licking my dry lips, I ask the question I know will answer everything. “Why?” I whisper, voice hushed as Tristan moves just behind Jameson, ever present in the tenseness of this moment. Jameson’s smirk broadens, lighting up his face like some sort of menacing demon. “Because,” he pauses, leaning in, his chest brushing against my erect nipples, his hot lips grazing the shell of my ear. “We’ve wanted to share our little babochka for a while now.”

Her reaction to my words is better than either of us could have ever dreamt. A quiet little whimper of a pleading moan escapes her lips. When I pull away to study her face, her eyes are pinched closed tight, the lids a pale lavender hue, her bottom lip trapped between her pearly teeth. My cock strains against the biting zipper of my jeans, but we cannot fuck her at school. Tristan was annoyed as I’d laid down my rules on our way here until I’d told him why.

“Would you like us to share you, Alice? Do you want us to fuck you, lick your cunt until you see stars?”

“Do you want that, Alice? Because we will give you anything you want. As long as you’re our good girl, we’ll be your fucking slaves.”

The subtle nod of her head, the subsequent small cry of desire—of giving in—sends my brain into a fucking frenzy. She slumps suddenly, seeming drained, woozy, but I catch her easily, pinning her languid form to the wall with my body. Every dip and curve, every muscle, every brush of soft flesh against me is something I’ll never be able to forget. She melds perfectly to me despite the differences in our sizes.

“Whatever you want to happen, baby girl,”

“Words, babochka,” I growl. This elicits a small jump from her, but the veins in her neck throb a little harder.

“Can I make you feel good, babochka?”

Tristan’s smirk is devious. “So wet for us, Alice. Do you touch yourself when you write your pretty stories?”

The deep bass of his gravelly voice, coupled with Jameson’s teeth scraping against my ear lobe, has me whimpering, shifting from foot to foot to try and create any amount of friction I can. “Y-yes,” I whisper as Jameson’s huge hands cover my breasts,

I mewl into Tristan’s mouth, these sounds I’m making right now ones I know I’ve never made before. He rips himself away, leaving me swaying toward him, but Jameson’s hand snatches my jaw, turning my face to him so he can steal his own first kiss. I melt into him as soon as our lips meet; he’s soft, slow and sensual, his languid motions indicative of how in control he always is; this is my torture, this is his power. Lurching with a gasp, I turn my face away and down at the feeling of fingers skimming up my bare thighs, but Jameson growls a harsh Niet in my ear. I shudder at his command and instead whimper, his hand pushing my face back to his. Tristan presses kisses to the tops of my thighs, fingers gently smoothing across the fronts to the soft inner skin.

Jameson’s tongue slips between my lips at the same time he pinches my nipple, hard. I cry out as it sends electric shocks of pleasure down into my belly and pussy. The steady throb between my legs aches as more wetness seeps out.

“She’s so fucking wet,” Tristan growls. Jameson chuckles darkly into my mouth without breaking our kiss, and somehow that is the most deliciously sexy thing he could ever do. Tristan’s fingers wrench my thighs apart sharply, and this time I manage to tear away and peer down at him. He kneels before me like a peasant before a queen, and Jameson’s hands slip down to cup the backs of my thighs in a bruising hold. With one upward jerk, he yanks me up and simultaneously spreads my legs wide for Tristan’s viewing pleasu...

“What…wait…” I gasp, panting, trying to close my legs against Jameson’s unrelenting strength....

hard edges of his desire smoothed at my hesitation. “Are you alright, Alice?” Jameson asks. It’s then I realize my nails are digging into the backs of his hands, helping him hold me up and open for his twin. Tristan’s eyes never leave mine despite me being bared to him for the first time. “I…I need to shower…” I whisper, reddening. My friends who’ve had sex often regale me with stories of oral sex, saying it’s way better than actual sex. Knowing Tristan aims to use his mouth, I can’t help but to be self conscious. They both answer my worries with deep chuckles, but Tristan is the one to speak. “Oh babochka,” he says with a shake of his head, leaning in closer to ...

And then, with our eyes locked, with his twin holding me open wide for him, he darts his tongue out before sucking my cl...

back with a cry, my skull crashing to Jameson’s shoulder as Tristan sucks and flicks his tongue over my swollen bud. My orgasm doesn’t hesitate, but instead rips through me so fast and so hard that I turn my face toward Jameson’s neck and bite down at his shoulder j...

But Tristan doesn’t stop, even when I grow sensitive. I moan and cry out, but he only slows the strokes of his tongue, allowing me to adjust without flinching away. Jameson groans behind me. “You’re so ...

He removes his mouth from me, instead slowly inching his long middle finger into me. I whimper as I watch him, the stretch nothing with how wet I am. “You want more, baby girl?” he asks as he withdraws his finger before slowly pushing it back in. My mind in a state of such arousal, I am moaning as I nod, the thought of being filled making me animalistic in my fiery need. I can’t even manage to use my words before Jameson nearly makes me come again with what he says. “Be a good girl and take his fingers in your cunt, Alice. I want to watch you come again.”

Tristan licks my slick off his lips before

he pushes two fingers into me. The stretch is tighter this time but still nothing painful; if anything, I am enjoying the threat of pain right now, for everything feels intensely heightened. He works his fingers to a certain point before stopping, saying some...

With a smirk, Tristan’s tongue traces my folds before dancing over my clit again. That, coupled with his fingers thrusting shallowly in and out of me, my next orgasm builds at a deep, alarming rate. “Ahh, ahh!” I cry, gripping Jameson so hard I know he’ll have bruises. “Good girl, such a good girl, come hard for us.” My climax sweeps through me from head to toe, my legs shaking, my toes pointed in my shoes and my muscles locked with the force of its wrath, and something warm spurts out of me. Panicking but too exhausted from those two orgasms, I can only slump with a whimper in Jameson’s arms. “Fuck me, she’s a—” Jameson cuts him off in Russian. “Da,” Tristan says, sounding as dreamy as I feel in this moment. “Did I…did I pee?” I ...

“No, baby. You squirted.” “Umm…what?” I say, feeling so naïve and clueless. His smile isn’t patronizing, and he presses a kiss to my inner thigh. “When you came, you released more fluids. Fucking sexy as hell.” I gulp, still embarrassed, having never heard of something like this before. But if they like it, then I suppose it’s a good thing. “We’ll have to wait for my turn,” Jameson says lowly behind me before bending to press his lips to the side of my neck. I shiver and curl in on myself, wanting nothing more than to snuggle up next to them both and sleep for an entire day, basking in how perfect this moment feels. He pulls his mouth away. “Get dressed for dinner, babochka. But your panties stay with me.”

“You look beautiful,” he tacks on, his voice so low I almost miss it. Her face whips to stare at him again, her eyes widening and glossing over. She responds exceptionally well to compliments, to praise. She deserves it. Though that is more Jameson’s kink, it is something I can do for her, especially since it’s the honest fucking truth. She is simply stunning, a classic, age-old type of beauty.

“We won’t leave your side, babochka. And when Tristan drives us home, I’ll show you why I kept your panties.” A hum of a moan escapes her lips as I chuckle and bring us over the threshold and into the immaculate mansion.

“For instance,” Tristan says proudly. “I like it fucking dirty and rough. I’ll choke you, spit on you, bite you, make you come even when you beg for me to stop.”

“And me, babochka,” Jameson says, tearing my attention away from my fantasy. “I like to tie you up so you cannot move, so your legs are spread and I can see how wet you get for me when I slap your little cunt, when you take your punishments like a good girl.”

“Spread your legs for me, beautiful girl,” he says, his voice like a thunderstorm, his pupils wide. Slow, I scoot down in the chair to more easily spread my legs as wide as they can go. His unwavering eyes watch my every move with such scrutiny I’m unintentionally tensed and praying I’ve done a good enough job to hear him tell me so. I’m rewarded with the slight uptick of his lips and his next words.

“Such a good listener, babochka. Now open your mouth nice and wide for me.”

ask. Leaning in, his lips brush my ear. “Are you sure, Alice?” I nod before he’s even pulled away, sticking out my tongue as far as it will go to entice him further as the ache between my legs grows more fervent, as I feel my wetness slipping down my slick skin. He lets out a growl at the sight and fists my ponytail, yanking backward until I’m gaping up at him with a whimper. He leans in, tongue darting out to lick mine, sending tingles through my body. When he pulls away, the lacy cloth is at my lips, pushing past my teeth and settling on my tongue. Once all the fabric is in, he traces a finger down my puffed cheek as I whimper.

“Such a good fucking girl, Alice. You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against me as I whine, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I ache to pull my thighs together. Unable to resist, I close my legs, but his eyes catch the movement, and he wrenches me apart with his strong hands. Before I know it, he’s yanked my dress up so the cloth barely covers my pussy, and his palm strikes the inside of my thigh. I yelp at the sting, lurching forward as much as the seatbelt will allow. “If I say spread your legs, you keep them open, da?” Whimpering, I nod quickly, hands clutching the armrests.

“I’m going to break your hymen, then, babochka, and when we get home you’ll be ready to take our cocks.”

“Look down. See how deep my fingers are in your tight little cunt, Alice.”

“Watch me make you gush all over my fingers, and then you’re going to clean it up, yes?” I whine against the panties in my mouth and nod, my nails now clawing into the armrests, my thighs quivering with each pump of his fingers. Deep within me, I can feel it tightening, can feel my stomach knotted up in preparation for the tidal wave this orgasm is going to be. My whines grow louder, closer together, and his thrusts become rougher, his thumb circling faster and faster. The wet, sucking sounds of his fingers in my pussy echoes in the car, and I watch it all, tensing as he crooks his two fingers deep within me.

With a moan, without realizing what I am doing, I grab his wrist and force his fingers into my mouth, tasting myself on him as I suck him clean and lick his palm like a ravenous animal. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you, my good little slut.”

Slow, smirking, I peel my boxers off, allowing my now fully erect cock to spring free. Her eyes give her away as they widen, her lips parting. Regardless if she finds this strange or weird, she’ll learn to appreciate the pain I went through to give her the utmost pleasure. I grip my cock, stroking slow, tightening my grip as I get to the top and pre-cum leaks out of my tip. “Like what you see, babochka?”

But then, jealousy shoots through me, and I glare, crossing my arms in a pout. “What woman’s?” I growl. He smirks, bending down quickly, trapping my cheeks with the pinch of his deft fingers, gentle enough not to harm me, but hard enough to show his power, his seriousness. “For your pleasure alone now, dirty fucking slut.”

“You’re going to take it all, baby. Breathe through your nose,” he says, slipping into a gentler tone.

“Look at me when you take my cock in your pretty little mouth, Alice,”

“Suck it, hollow your cheeks.” I take his demand and do just that, suctioning him further into my mouth, rewarded as he hisses through his teeth and pulls out. I am breathing hard, gasping, but he’s relentless, and it makes me all the wetter. “Lick it like a popsicle, little whore.”