Beginnings: A Light

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I rewrote this story ages ago but neglected to post it. This version is much better than the first; Riff actually takes off his clothes before making love to his sister. Many thanks to my editor, Jamie, who should e-mail me if she reads this because I haven't talked to her in a while.

WARNING: This story contains sexual situations and incest and may not be appropriate for younger readers, or for republicans, or for Catholics.

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Moonlight spilled onto the floor, casting eerie shadows over everything in our bedroom. From my place on the lower bunk, I squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the menacing shadows. Ahh, so that pale ghost huddled in the corner was only my apron, freshly washed and ready for work tomorrow. I groaned at the thought of work. It wasn't difficult, helping Mum clean the Furter's house, but it was tedious. It seemed the older I got, the more was expected of me.

I felt something soft brush my arm. Startled, I looked up to see Riff peering at me from the top bunk, one hand hanging lifelessly over the edge. He touched my arm again to make sure I was awake. "Magenta," he whispered.

"Yes, brother?" I replied, studying his face in the darkness. The moonlight played upon his angular jaw and high cheekbones, and his hair shone pale as it shivered with the force of his breaths. I noticed that he looked strikingly handsome tonight. He stared pointedly at me, as though he were studying me, too. I shifted self-consciously, realizing that I must look awful. I hadn't even combed my hair before bed.

"You look beautiful," Riff assured, as if he'd been reading my mind. Perhaps he had been; I never could be sure with my brother. He always seemed to know what was running through my head. He was always one step ahead of me.

Riff threw one leg over the edge of his bed and jumped down, landing with a dull thud. He sat on the mattress next to me and began stroking my hair. I closed my eyes and sighed contentedly, wondering what I'd do without him.

Sleep tugged at the edges of my brain as Riff's fingers danced through my hair. I sighed again and snuggled into the pillow, basking in the glow of moonlight and the warm breath from my brother's lips as he softly kissed my forehead.

"Magenta," he whispered again. His voice pierced through my half-dream state, and I opened one eye to gaze at him questioningly. He wanted something, I knew, but was too afraid to ask. Or maybe he was asking, but I didn't understand.

"What is it, Riff?"

Without answering, he moved as if to kiss my forehead again, but his lips pressed against my mouth instead. I was confused at first. Had he missed his target? He pulled away for only a second, then kissed my lips again, with more force. I supposed he was waiting for a reaction from me, but I was frozen. I didn't know how to react. Riff and I had always been affectionate, and we had played naughty games as children, but he had never kissed me like this. What did he mean by it?

He lifted his gaze to stare into my eyes, wordlessly asking for approval. Approval for what? A thrill ran up my spine and surged through my body like electricity. The images that were dancing in my mind could not be right. This couldn't be right, could it? Surely I was misinterpreting Riff's kisses.

I hoped I wasn't.

With one finger, Riff pushed lightly against my chin, exposing my throat and neck to the moonlight. I closed my eyes, trembling with the force of an unknown emotion. What was happening? Why was I enjoying it? I couldn't think anymore. I felt so lost, yet so ... perfect.

Riff kissed my throat sensuously, running his hands across my shoulders. He was lying over top of me now, and the sensation of his weight sent another electric thrill coursing down my spine. I made a soft sound like a whimper, and Riff hesitated as though doubting himself. Then his lips and his warm tongue were on my neck again, devouring my flesh with such sweetness.

He pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "Oh Magenta, my lovely sister, my darling ..." His voice was thick with pure lust, and it shocked me. What was I supposed to do? Could I stop him? Did I want to?

The breath caught in my throat as Riff's mouth graced my neck with more kisses. His fingers were tangled in my hair, caressing the back of my neck and my head. A quiet moan escaped my lips. Despite the wild protests screaming in my heart, I loved this. I loved it!

Riff seemed to sense my approval, for his hands lept from my head and began working feverishly at the buttons on my night gown. He was so passionate ... How long had he wanted this?

I felt the cloth slip from my skin. The perpetual night air felt cool on my flesh, soothing the fire which smoldered in every muscle of my body. I was wearing no bra underneath, and Riff immediately set his hands on my chest, caressing my breasts with his fingers and his lips. I moaned loudly and wrapped my arms around Riff's neck. His tongue danced on my bare skin. With every movement of his, I felt a tremor of pleasure.

But he's my brother ...

Riff's hands glided down my sides, tracing the curve of my hips. He stroked the inside of my thigh lovingly, gloriously. He was gazing at me with a look of pure bliss. He whispered my name and "angel" and "darling," and I wanted to melt into his body.

My brother!

One hand slipped into the waistband of my underwear, and the next moment I lay naked before him, shivering from lust and nerves, not cold. No, definately not cold. The heat was almost unbearable. Riff's fingers were stroking the flesh between my legs. I was burning, burning. Was this right? I wanted to grab him, shake him, scream at him to make the burning stop. He stared at me with a calm smile while he pressed small kisses on my abdomen, then my hips.

I found that my hips were moving with him, arching towards him. His hand was gone now. Why? Where? I was too drunk with lust to understand anything. In my intoxicated haze, I managed to murmur, "Riff? Touch me again ..." I don't know if he heard me, but he pressed his lips to the fire ... and I screamed.

I felt his hand clamp down on my mouth. He hissed into my ear, "You can't wake Mum yet! Later!"

I stared at him in utter confusion. "What?" I asked, but the sound was muffled by his hand. I tugged at his wrist impatiently. Why had he stopped? I just wanted him to keep touching me ...

Finally he removed his hand and replaced it with his lips. I kissed him eagerly, now able to return the sign of affection. He basked in my kiss and hovered above me. I reached up to help him shrug off his nightshirt.

I made a pleasant noise and gently ran my fingernails over his bare back. I brought my lips to his shoulders and felt him tremble, but he pushed me back to the pillow and gave me an urgent glare.

"Magenta," he hummed into my ear, like my name was a song.

"Riff, Riff, my brother!" I cried, overcome with emotion and not sure of what to say.

"Shhh," he hushed. "Quiet now, I need you to understand."

I did not understand at all. Had I done something wrong?

"You don't want to ... do what Mum has planned, do you?" I wished he would stop talking and keep touching me, but his eyes were gleaming with guilt and shame. Then I understood.

I took his face into my hands and caressed his temples. "No, not at all," I assured him.

His eyes narrowed, but I felt his body harder now. He was pressing closer. I could feel everything, everything!

"You don't love DeLordy?"

"No ..."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Are you willing to give up DeLordy for me?"

I thought of how angry Mum would be, and of how powerful DeLordy was. He had everything my family needed - money, influence, connections. If I gave myself to DeLordy, I might never have to work again ... But I loved Riff and wanted him so badly. I didn't know how to answer, so I remained silent.

Riff pulled away from me, and I feared he would leave, but he came back down again in a passion, and slammed into me ... and inside of me ... and then ... and then ... I could feel so much more! I could hear his heartbeat, so loud, pounding in my head. His heavy, deep breaths against my neck. He was gasping for air with every thrust. I heard myself screaming again because of the pain and the joy, but he didn't shush me. Maybe I was only screaming in my head.

"Riff!" I said between moans, not knowing what to say in a situation like this. I don't think he was listening, anyway. He gasped and gasped until he threw back his head and yelled wordlessly at the ceiling. I felt something incredible inside of me, and then Riff's body fell onto me with its full weight. He was not so heavy as to crush me, and I rather liked the sensation.

He was sweating, I noticed, and so was I. Our bodies glistened together in the moonlight. Riff brought his lips to my ear again -- though, with all that screaming, I found it pointless -- and whispered, "I love you, my darling." It was the first time he'd actually said those words to me -- "I love you." He loves me.

I was exhausted. My muscles were shaking. Riff stood and pulled himself off of me, though he stumbled when his feet touched the floor. He pulled my blanket over my body and then shakily climbed to the top bunk. I heard him fall into bed, and then there was silence but for the soft breathing of the man who loves me.

Then sleep washed over my brain like the tide, and I had to choice but to drown in it.