She had always been a forbidden thing. Both of them had mistaken it for her power. That he couldn't touch her like he wanted. When he was just a little shit, he used to kick and scream all he wanted, because it didn't hurt anyone. She hauled him around because of her impressive age advantage. Didn't matter what he did, and complaining had been part of it, anyway. But then, once, as she had her arms locked around his waist to drag him away from jagged rocks on a cold beach, his heel had caught her knee in a fit, and they had both fallen. She cried over the scratch and he had just stood there, stunned by how he felt about having hurt her. Accomplishment and fascination. Pride. Like having felled a goddess, and watching her bleed. But the overwhelming shame had stunted him from physicality, even when chemicals of adulthood started to bloom.
There was a stirring of those things now, when she came in. She didn't have the benefit of his restraint anymore. She didn't have the courtesy of it. Not if she thought she was marrying Matt and running away. He wouldn't let her. And knowing that made her look like a new promise when she stood at the fortified entrance, touched by the different lights and placed in the middle of the vibrating music. The melancholy words in the upbeat track said something about death when she came closer in, thinking she'd lecture him. She had her usual annoyed, beautiful expression for him. Like she was still an authority. This was the last of their siblinghood as they knew it. The end of her power.
He felt it when he hugged her. For alot of his life she'd been taller than him. These last years not so much. Her breasts were soft through the thin top inside her open jacket. She knew something was different in the way he held her. In how he wanted to hold her. He nuzzled the side of her face and buried deeper into her scent when she protested and fretted. He remembered waking up beside her when she let him sleep in her bed. She had filled out so much. It felt like they were slow dancing like to mom's vinyls when she was away with dad, and Khloe got to pick the song. Only this time he could feel the baseline in his diaphragm.
She tensed up when he grabbed her ass. Both her body and the firm orb he was squeezing. Her tights made it easy to enjoy the texture of her buttock. She would learn his hand was much larger than she thought. He liked her expression when she tried to tell him No. And she smelled like fear. His fingers dug in and weighed her asscheek playfully while his grin went from boyish to nightmarish. Her little hands on his chest were adorable. To think she used to be able to lift him and carry him off.
"Or what, sis?" He asked. She didn't know the predatory, content face she saw was the same as the people who usually recieved some violence from him. His steps were already moving her toward a couch by pressing his body against hers. Two guys knew to vacate the scuffed seating. Kaden stopped when her calves touched the edge of the well used cushions. His other hand took her other butt cheek, squeezing invasively, fingers digging in between the mounds, pressure keeping her against him. His fingers crowded the valley between, accentuated by her tights already. Both hands massaged her there, learning her shapes and firmness. But if she was concerned with that, she'd be rather disturbed by the hill growing against her from the front, where he pressed against her.
"I don't give my blessing to your engagement." He said, looking down at her. "You're going to stay." The cold in his eyes should tell her how much room there was for negotiation.
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