[ inseparable. ]
“Don’t say that–so loud–” Colin’s little sister begs him, her eyes flicking quickly, back and forth, between him and the door. Going by logic, he should be caring a lot more about this marriage, given the securities that it’d give to the family–shouldn’t he be more worried? Be taking more precautions, at the very least?
“A-Ah,” is all she manages to voice, the exhalation all breathless quivers as she follows Colin’s command. It has only taken him two seconds to destroy the symbol of her and her husband’s consummation–her lingerie– and she can only wonder what that means for her, and his, future. The panties are hanging in shreds upon her hips, their lacy scraps parted enough to no longer be proper barriers over her dripping sex. Her pink petals are lubricated with her desire.
“I-I’m doing this for the family–big brother–” she gets out, her voice a whimper, high and breathless. Amelia has already made a mess of herself–her slick is slowly running down the length of her creamy inner thigh.
"Is that what you tell yourself?" he asks harshly, stopping to survey her face. She obviously wants this, in every way. Still, is that truly what she believes? "You are doing this to get away from me. To be safe from me. Why, Amelia?" Had he become more like his mother than he even noticed? Did he repulse her now?
The thought has him dropping her back onto the ground so that she lands on her feet. Slowly, he backs away and he knows he's wearing his emotions. Unable to mask them. He's ashamed. Zipping up his pants, he begins to turn from her. "Fix yourself, you look like a whore." For once he's not even proud of that.












