Blinking at our new position, I bite my lip and move my hands to rest against his chest.

“Ev,” I breathe, lifting ever so slightly.

“Fuck, baby.” His hips buck up into mine, making me gasp again. In this position, he’s so deep I can feel him against my cervix. Leaning back, I roll my hips, panting when his hands move, one to cup my breast, and the other down between my legs, where his thumb circles my clit. My head falls back, my eyes close, and my hands move behind me to hold on to his thighs.

“Jesus,” he groans, rolling his thumb faster. “Look at me.” My head dips forward, and I pull my eyes open to meet his. “You look beautiful taking my cock, baby.”

Moaning, I fight to keep his gaze, but I feel it building and I know it’s going to be huge. “Come for me, June. Come on my cock.”

Whimpering, “Ev,” my eyes slide closed and my body falls forward.

His hands move to hold my hips tight and his hips thrust hard into me, making my orgasm take on a life of its own. Moving me to my back, his hips piston into mine hard and fast. I cry out and lose my breath. My head lifts and I latch on to his chest with my teeth. His roar fills the room as his thrusts slow to a glide for one…two…three…four…five strokes, and then he plants himself deep inside of me. My mouth releases his flesh as I fall back onto the bed exhausted, out of breath, and completely sated.

“Fuck, but I could seriously live in your pussy, baby,” he growls, pressing his hips deeper into mine.

“I love your penis,” I mutter, and I feel him shaking. My eyes fight to open, and when they do, I see he’s fighting laughter. “What’s so funny?” I ask with a frown. His head shakes and his face dips, so he can place a quick kiss to my lips.

“You love my penis?” he asks, and I scrunch up my nose, because I can see he’s trying not to laugh. “No one calls it a penis, baby.”

“Um, that’s what it is,” I tell him, putting pressure against his chest, which he ignores as he drops to his elbow and pushes my hair away from my forehead.

“Cock. You love my cock.” He grins.

“Whatever,” I mutter, rolling my eyes and pushing at his chest to no avail.

“Only medical professionals call it a penis.”

“Fine, I love your cock.”

His grin turns smug. He slides his cock out of me, only to push right back in. “Fuck yeah, you do. You’re soaked.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” I mutter.

“Wrong, you’re so full of me.” He presses his hips farther into me while running his nose along mine.

“This is about the time I stop talking to you,” I grumble, and the bed and I shake as he buries his face in my neck and laughs. Feeling him laughing while still inside of me is something I’ve never felt, yet something I love immediately. “It’s late,” I remind him, and his face moves back to hover over mine.

“I love you,” he says gently, running his fingers along my hairline. “Never going to stop loving you, baby.”

“Ev,” I breathe, feeling tears burn my throat.

“I’ll wait for you to find it again. I’d wait forever for you.” He leans in, covering my mouth with his before I can reply. When his mouth leaves mine, he pulls out of me slowly then rolls, taking me with him. He adjusts us in the bed, with my cheek to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around me. Closing my eyes, I wonder why his brother did what he did, and then wonder where he is now.

“Ev,” I call quietly, as he reaches over to turn out the light.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Is…” I pause, not wanting to set him off again after his reaction earlier.

“What is it?” he asks on a squeeze, rolling back into me.

“Is your brother okay?”

“He’s sitting in jail,” he says, not sounding upset about that at all. In fact, there is no emotion in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing closer to him.

His body turns toward mine and his arms go tight enough that the air rushes out of my lungs. “Do not,” he growls, getting close enough for me to feel his breath against my skin, “feel bad for him.” Okay, there was definitely emotion there. His arms loosen, but his face stays close as he continues, “He fucked up. This isn’t the first time he’s fucked up either. Me and him are done. He’s going back to prison, where he’s likely going to spend a few more years. He’s had the opportunity to get his shit together, but he continues to squander that shit.”

“But he’s your brother,” I say softly. My sisters and I are close. The rest of my family and I are close too, and I can’t imagine ever cutting any one of them out.

Growing quiet his fingers shift through my hair then run down my back. “My family isn’t like your family, baby, and my brother and I don’t have a relationship like you and your sisters have. I’ve tried with him, tried over and over throughout the years. I knew he was fucked up from how we grew up, understood the reasons why he did the shit he did before, but he’s not a kid anymore, and I won’t make excuses for him. I won’t allow you to feel bad for him.”

“Maybe—”

“I want you to listen,” he cuts me off before I can suggest that maybe his brother needs help, real help, and not the kind prison offers. “I want you to hear me when I say this. It’s going to sound cold, but this is the truth. He’s never going to change. He’s going to use our childhood as an excuse for his fucked-up behavior for the rest of his life, and that shit is on him.”