❝COME BACK TO YOU❞ CHAPTER SIX
brothersbsf!2hollis x lilsib!reader story information: Y/n, Nate’s younger sister, lives an hour from him in LA for university. She’s always been close with his friends, especially Hollis. A year ago, Hollis kissed her on her birthday and they ended up secretly hooking up for months, never officially labeling it but falling hard for eachother. Things fell apart when Nate caught Hollis in Y/n’s bed, causing a fallout between all of them. cw: suggestive talk, sexual interactions mentions, hollis & y/n being two peas in a pod/the biggest trolls, crazy older brother nate, chill middle sister chessa (ik she's older shhh) written smut masterlist taglist
⟵ chapter five ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ chapter seven ⟶
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
Hollis's hand is warm and possessive in yours as you slip out the back door of the private bar, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin like a promise of what's to come.
He drove you there earlier, picking you up down the street from your house after you snuck out the window, his gaze making you shiver the second you slid into the passenger seat of his sleek orange Lamborghini.
You've been stealing these moments for days now, hidden from your brother, each one pulling you deeper into this dangerous pull between you.
The parking lott is dimly lit, shadows dancing across the black curves of his Lambo as you approach. He unlocks it with a beep, but instead of opening the driver's door, he guides you to the back, his fingers tightening on your hip.
“Back seat,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough just like you remembered, laced with that edge that makes your core clench.
You nod, heart pounding, and climb in first, the leather cool against your thighs as your short dress rides up. He follows, pulling the door shut with a decisive click, the confined space trapping his scent — cigarettes and cologne — around you like a drug.
No words at first, just his mouth crashing into yours, the kiss starting soft, his lips brushing yours in a way that feels like a confession, like he's mapping every inch of you with care.
But hunger wins quick — his tongue delves deep, tasting you with a groan that vibrates through your chest. You kiss back fiercely, hands fisting his shirt, pulling him closer until his weight pins you down, the seat creaking under you.
“Been thinking about this since you got here,” he breathes against your neck, nipping the skin there, not hard enough to mark but enough to sting and soothe in turns.
His hands are everywhere — yanking your dress straps down your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He cups them, thumbs scraping over your nipples until they pebble tight, then he leans in, sucking one into his hot mouth.
The pull is firm, teeth grazing just shy of pain, sending jolts straight to your pussy. You arch up, moaning, fingers threading through his hair to hold him there.
“Holli-” You gasp, and he switches sides, laving the other with his tongue in slow, deliberate circles that contrast the urgency building between your legs.
He shifts lower, bunching your dress around your waist, his palm sliding up your inner thigh.
“Spread for me,” he commands, but his eyes lock on yours, soft in the dim light filtering through the tinted windows, like he's asking permission from your soul.
You part your legs, lace panties already damp, and he hooks his fingers in the fabric, ripping it aside with a sharp tug that makes you yelp.
Two fingers plunge into your without preamble, thick and curling to stroke your inner walls, pumping fast and deep and you moan loudly.
Your hips buck, slick sounds filling the car as he works you, thumb pressing your clit in rough swirls. “So wet for me already,” he groans, free hand bracing beside your head, his body hovering close.
The roughness has you writhing, chasing the friction, but then he slows, fingers twisting gently inside you, his forehead resting against yours.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispers, the words tender, vulnerable, like he's letting you completely in. It hits you deep — this isn't just sex; it's you two, teetering on the edge of something real, something that scares and thrills you.
You cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that's all emotion, slow and deep, tongues tangling as your body hums under his touch.
“Need you inside me,” you beg, voice breaking, and he doesn't make you wait. He pulls back just enough to shove his jeans down, freeing his cock — the head glistening with pre-cum.
He strokes himself once, eyes never leaving yours, then notches at your entrance. With one powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, stretching you wide, the burn delicious as he fills you completely.
You cry out, nails digging into his shoulders, and he stills for a beat, buried deep, his breath ragged against your ear. “F-fuck, you feel perfect,” he stutters, kissing your temple softly before he starts moving.
The pace is brutal from the start — hips snapping forward, cock slamming into you with force that rocks the car, your body jolting with each impact.
He hooks your legs over his arms, folding you nearly in half in the tight space, driving even deeper, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "Baby, please!" you gasp.
“Take it,” he grunts, one hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise, the other tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your throat for him to bite.
You meet him thrust for thrust, pussy clenching around his length, the wet slap of your bodies echoing loud in the confined air.
But amid the frenzy, he slows again, rolling his hips in a grind that presses his pelvis against your clit, drawing out your pleasure.
His mouth finds yours, the kiss messy and desperate, but he pulls back to whisper, “I want this forever — you, us.” The confession hangs there, raw and honest, as he picks up speed once more, pounding relentlessly.
Sweat slicks both of your skin, his muscles flexing under your hands, and you feel the coil tightening low in your belly.
“Cum for me,” he demands, fingers slipping between your bodies to rub your clit in tight, firm circles.
It's too much — the roughness, the intimacy — and you shatter, orgasm crashing over you in waves, pussy fluttering around his cock as you scream his name.
He follows seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, then groaning as he pulls out of you, hot pulses spilling onto your inner thighs. You cling together, breaths heaving, his body collapsing gently over yours, careful not to crush you.
In the quiet aftermath, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he nuzzles your neck, lips pressing soft kisses along your jaw.
“This secret... it kills me, but I adore you too much to ever let you go again.” His voice is hushed, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm, and you feel it — the shift, the way lust is weaving into something softer, binding you tighter.
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