Clary was still lead on the sofa, even after Jonathan had left her lying there after what he did to her. She knew she should probably get up and run to her room, but something told her that Jonathan would get even more sick ideas about her in the bedroom. Wiping away the last remaining tear stains, she pulled up her tights and her skirt and sat up straight on the sofa. She felt absolutely disgusting, like bugs were crawling up and down her flesh. Her own brother had violated her, touched her in a place that brother's shouldn't touch their sisters in, and given her a euphoric sense of pleasure that she certainly didn't want. After he had finished, Jonathan had claimed that this sick act made her his property, that she was his. They had been together all this time, and not once had Jonathan ever done anything like this before. Why all of a sudden was he doing this to her? Questions swam around Clary's head like fish in the ocean.
"Are you just going to sit there all day, Clarissa?" Clary looked up to see Jonathan standing in the doorway, his gaze one of questioning. She glared at him with all the hatred she could summon.
"Don't look at me like that, darling. After all, I did just give you the most wonderful feeling you will ever experience, I think that's enough to earn me a smile." Jonathan continued, smirking at the last part. Clary stood up from the sofa, walked over to him and slapped him hard across the face. His face jerked to the side, and when he turned it back, he fixed Clary with a dark stare and lunged for her, sending her flying into the floor. She grunted in pain as Jonathan fell on top of her. Pinning both her hands above her head, Jonathan leaned in close to Clary, his expression furious.
"Never, ever, raise your hand to me again. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" Jonathan yelled, his rage growing. After the way he made her feel, the wonderful joy she should've felt from his touch, all she showed him was anger.
"YOU HYPOCRITE! I CAN'T HIT YOU, YET YOU CAN VIOLATE ME?! YOU'RE MY BROTHER! BROTHER'S DON'T TOUCH SISTERS THE WAY YOU TOUCHED ME! SO BEFORE YOU MAKE ANY COMMENT ABOUT ME HITTING YOU, KEEP YOUR DAMN HANDS TO YOURSELF!" Clary screamed, her body trembling with both rage and fear. Adding to her sentence, she raised her head back and spat at him. Somehow, Jonathan's calm demeanour had returned after he had yelled at her, not breaking even when she had spat at him. He simply removed one of his hands that were holding hers, using the other one to keep them both secure, wiped the spit from his face... and put it in his mouth. Clary almost gagged at the sight of it.
"You taste so sweet, Clary." He remarked, before leaning down to lock their lips together. Clary's eyes widened as she thrashed her head around to avoid him, but he used his free hand to hold her head secure as he tried to slip into her mouth. Seeing that she wasn't going to give him entrance, he slid his hand underneath her shirt to grasp hold of her breast, causing Clary to gasp and Jonathan slipped his tongue in her mouth, tasting her, and savouring every moment.
'This is so wrong!' Clary thought as her brother attacked her tongue in a passionate, yet insanely disgusting dance. 'He's my brother, he shouldn't be doing this to me!'
Jonathan hesitantly drew away from the kiss, like he never wanted it to end. He looked down at Clary's frightened, enraged and confused face, and smiled.
"I'm think I'm ready for another taster session, but I think this time we should do it where we're both a bit more comfortable, don't you?" Jonathan said, then winked at her. Clary's heartbeat sped up erratically as she realized that what Jonathan had done to her on the sofa would be repeating herself... in his bedroom.
As Jonathan let go of her wrists to stand up, Clary's right hand clenched into a fist, and with all her might, she punched him straight in the face. The pain in her knuckles was unbearable when they drew back from his face, but all she could focus on was escaping from Jonathan. The punch had obviously affected Jonathan, as he cluched his face in pain and rolled off of Clary. With speed she didn't even know she had, Clary stood up and ran out of the lounge and to the stairs. When she reached the halfway point, she could hear Jonathan's footsteps at the bottom of the stairs. Fearing what he would do to her now, she increased her speed, desperate to escape. As she reached the landing, she saw that her bedroom door was open, meaning she wouldn't have to fumble around with the doorknob. But as soon as her hand wrapped around the handle, a hand tangled itself in her fiery locks and yanked her backwards. Screaming in frustration, she clawed at the hand that held her captive, before a second hand whipped round and bashed her across the head, striking her dizzy for a few moments. She could feel strong muscular arms pick her up and carry her through a doorway. Jonathan's bedroom.
She flopped down on his bed, her head pounding like a drum. She knew she should be running, but she could barely move her legs, he had struck her so hard. Jonathan climed on top of her and straddled her hips, moving his face close to hers and inhaling her scent, almost as if she were his own personal drug.
"Ah Clary. Don't worry, little sis, I'll make you feel good." Jonathan said in a husky voice, his tone practically dripping with lust, before removing her tights, skirt and pants to repeat the same act he had performed downstairs. Not sex, but just as twisted.
He did it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
He wouldn't stop.
And each time, her body betrayed her.
She was his toy.
She was his possession.
She was his.