Chapter 14

Nakht didn’t move, his breath jagged, his gaze locked on hers. His face hardened, darker, dead serious. Silence pressed down on them, heavy with their breathing. Then a dry laugh broke out of his throat, sharp, joyless.

“You don’t believe me...” he rasped. “You really want to play this game, Merit? You want me to prove you wrong?”

Merit’s heart jolted. She knew she’d pushed too far. But her pride chained her in place. Her chest was pounding too fast, her fingers trembled against the sheets ... and still, her lips parted.

She stared at him, eyes burning, and spat out in a low, cutting tone:

“Why don’t you just crawl back to Tiaa?”

It wasn’t a question. It was venom, a bite of irony flung like a weapon.

Nakht froze. His face slid into shadow, his features twisted with fury. He didn’t wait. His hand shot out, brutal, clamping her face. His fingers crushed her cheeks, forced her jaw shut, pinning her head back against the wooden frame of the bed. Merit let out a strangled cry, half-choked panic, her eyes wide with shock.

“Don’t say her name again.” Nakht’s voice vibrated, low, sharp as a blade.

His whole body trembled above her. His cock, swollen to the edge of bursting, pressed against her belly, pulsing higher with each beat. She felt the raw heat of him searing her skin, and her breath snapped, broken between fear and something else—something she refused to name—that churned inside her.

Then suddenly, Nakht let go.

His hand left her jaw. But he stayed bent over her, hips arched, his erection looming just inches from her face. His shadow, all flesh and hunger, smothered her.

Merit lay frozen, daring to lift her eyes. Her gaze slid over that thick, veined shaft, heavy and throbbing with her brother’s heart. Her lips parted despite herself, her breath quickened, burning her throat.

When she looked back up, Nakht was devouring her with his eyes. Sweat streamed down his chest, his fevered stare never wavered. She understood in an instant: she was the one who had driven him into this state. She, and no one else.

Silence stretched tight as a bowstring.

Then Nakht’s voice snapped, sharp, commanding:

“Open your mouth.”

Merit flinched. Her stomach clenched, her breath caught. She shut her eyes for a second, as if that could shield her from the fire licking inside her. The image of Tiaa bound and forced flashed through her mind, freezing her blood.

Her voice rose, fragile but feigning calm:

“And if ... I don’t want to?”

A silence. Nakht hesitated. His eyes flickered, his breath faltered. Then his features hardened again, and he growled, low and hoarse:

“Then maybe ... I’ll go ask Tiaa to—”

He never got the chance to finish.

In a sudden surge, Merit swallowed him whole.

Nakht’s cry tore through the chamber. A raw, guttural roar ripped from deep inside him. His head snapped back, his body arched. His cock pulsed in his sister’s mouth, throbbing, burning, swollen with a desire he could no longer hold back.

“Merit!...” His voice broke in an animal breath, his fists clutching the sheets tight on either side of her head.

She, suffocating, felt the weight of him filling her mouth—the sharp taste of his skin, the salt of his flesh. She wanted to pull away, but her body stayed pinned, her lips sealed around him, trapped in an act she herself had provoked.

Nakht, bent over her, panted like a man possessed. Every beat of his heart shook him, every draw of her lips drove him closer to madness.

Nakht trembled, his back arching harder. His hips quivered, his lips clawed for air as if he were drowning. Then, feverish, he straightened slightly. His hands shot out and framed his sister’s face. At first, almost gently, his fingers tangled in her hair. But at the same instant, his hips drove forward. His cock pushed deeper down Merit’s throat.