Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 187

Revenge Amnesia: Upgraded to His Brother

Chapter 187

Norah’s POV

Finishe

I awoke limp and drenched, a disheveled heap on the floor. My skirt was rucked up, my thighs slick and sticky.

My body writhed instinctively against the cold tiles. Inside me, that damn little toy was still buzzing, a persistent, invasive vibration that seemed to burrow deeper, as if trying to claw its. way into my very womb.

A fierce clenching deep in my core. An intense, maddening itch made my hands tremble with the effort of not touching myself right there.

I bit my lip until the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, forcing my traitorous hands to stay still.

The music still played.

Lucien had risen. He stood over me now.

He looked down, his shadow consuming me. “Tell me,” he commanded, his voice flat. “What do you want?”

With immense effort, I lifted my head. “I’m… I need…”

He flung the remote aside with a violent crack. In one swift motion, he bent down, hauled me up, and slammed my back against the icy surface of the wine cabinet.

He hooked one of my legs over his arm. Without preamble, without a hint of gentleness, he drove into me–hard, deep, filling me completely.

“Ah-!”

The vibration of the toy buried deep within and the overwhelming sensation of him—hot, thick, stretching me open–exploded through me simultaneously.

A raw, guttural cry tore from my throat. My fingers scrabbled frantically at his back, my nails likely reopening the wounds there. I felt warmth–his blood–smearing my fingertips.

He didn’t flinch. He only fucked me harder.

Every thrust was punishing, as if he wanted to nail me to the cabinet itself.

“Say it,” he growled against my ear, his voice rough and grating. He bit down on my earlobe. “Whose are you?”

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I shook my head, my teeth sinking into my already–bruised lip.

He pistoned into me, his other hand gripping my chin. “Say it!”

I kept shaking my head, a stubborn, futile refusal.

Suddenly, he flipped me around, hooked his arms under my thighs from behind, and lifted me clean off the ground.

He carried me toward the private room’s frosted glass door.

Through the hazy glass, I could see the obscene silhouette–my legs splayed wide, his cock buried to the hilt inside me, our combined wetness dripping from our joined bodies onto the floor.

“Say it!” he demanded, and began thrusting with crazy intensity.

A broken sob was wrenched from me.

I was certain the guests in the main hall could hear. I could almost feel their heads turning, searching for the source of the sound.

The sheer, crushing shame of being exposed, of everyone knowing, finally shattered my last resistance.

“…Yours,” I sobbed, the words torn from my very soul. “I’m yours… I’ve always been yours…”

He seemed finally satisfied. He set me down.

The moment my feet touched the floor, my legs gave way.

He caught me, bent me over the back of a nearby chair, and entered me from behind once

more.

“Lucien… people… they’ll see,” I gasped out.

Just the thought—a server walking in, guests glancing this way–made my insides clench violently around him. The buzzing toy slipped, impossibly, even deeper.

A violent spasm seized my lower abdomen, wracking my entire body.

My muscles clenched down hard, gripping his invading length.

His rhythm shattered. His movements turned violent, purely bestial. He began pounding into me with wild, desperate force.

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The loud, wet slap of his abdomen against my skin echoed through the small room.

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My body–strung impossibly tight by the shame, the pain, and the relentless stimulation- hurtled toward another devastating peak.

This time, the spasm was deep and prolonged, tearing a raw, ragged scream from my throat.

He drove forward one last, heavy time, his thick head pushing past a final resistance deep within.

Amid the relentless vibrations and my convulsing muscles, he came, shooting his semen release deep into my core.

In that moment, his arms wrapped around me, holding me so tight it felt like he was trying to fuse me into his very bones.

We collapsed against each other, gasping, slick with sweat.

When he finally withdrew, a gush of his release mixed with my own slickness soaked the front of his dress pants.

He carried my utterly spent body to the sofa and pushed my legs apart.

When he pulled the vibrator out from inside me, the final, shocking sensation sent me tumbling over the edge one last, trembling time.

Afterward, he carried me to the small restroom behind the bar–the same one we’d used. before.

A quick, rough cleanup, and we collapsed onto the narrow single bed.

He wrapped his arms around me, one arm crossing tightly over my waist, holding me so close I could barely breathe.

Fatigue struck me like a physical blow.

Within moments, I was unconscious, sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I awoke to morning light seeping through the gaps in the heavy curtains.

As I opened my eyes, I found him lying on his side beside me, still sound asleep.

Long eyelashes, faint, bruised shadows beneath them.

His lips were pressed into a firm line, and even in sleep, his brow was slightly furrowed.

For a fleeting second, my hand almost lifted to smooth it away.

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Then, the phone on the nightstand vibrated.

He was awake instantly–one second deep in sleep, the next fully alert.

His eyes flicked to me. He got up and grabbed the phone.

He stood with his back to me.

And I saw his whole body go rigid.

He stood there, staring at the screen, for what felt like an eternity.

Long enough for a cold sense of foreboding to start coiling in my gut.

Finally, he turned around slowly.

Finished

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