Blood Rush
Chapter Three: Under Arkham Bridge
Lila Valeska finished her fifth of vodka and sloppily made her way to her bedroom, slandering Deedee's name with a note that her performance could have been better since the overture hadn't rendered more profit. The table jumped in her way, and Lila clamored against it, uttering a drunken cry of pain. Jerome and Deedee, stationed by the couch a couple feet, shared a look of annoyance as Lila disappeared through the threshold of her bedroom.
A lucky potential mate watched his soon-to-be conquest from the kitchen, passed a hand over his face. The suitor, a stranger from the audience who had attended the performances all night, curiously gazed at Deedee with hopeful eyes. The suitor approached her from behind, ignoring Jerome's objecting glare.
"Hey there, sweet cheeks," uttered the suitor in a slurred voice. He put a hand on Deedee's shoulder, his fingers trying to coax the eldest Valeska to join him in a separate room.
"No," Deedee shot him down, appallingly craning her neck away as she stepped to the side.
The suitor's hand fell away from her and he seemed to be upset that she didn't want his generous offer.
"I could show you a good time, Missy—"
"The lady said 'No'," Jerome remarked, taking a step forward. The suitor glanced at him, as if just noticing that they weren't alone.
"The lady doesn't know what she wants, little man."
"She does," said Deedee adamantly.
"Please," the guest cooed. "I've heard of you, all about what you can do. Tight ass and strong legs get you everywhere, huh?"
Deedee frowned. Jerome pushed his way in front of the suitor, grabbing Deedee's shoulder and ushered her to the exit, "Come on, Deedee."
"What," said the guest, "You trying to stop her from jumping my bones? I know when a lady wants it, how she wants it—"
"Touch her," Jerome warned calmly, "And I'll shove your beer bottle down your throat."
The guest swayed on his feet, murmured by the booze and hurt that Deedee—even if she had been the Prophet Whore—did not find him worthy of her company. And her brother wasn't going to leave her side. He chalked it up as a loss, waved a hand carelessly, and then crossed the living room floor to finally follow Lila into her bedroom.
Jerome pursed his lips angrily, staring after the stranger.
"I hate that fucking bitch," muttered Jerome. "Letting strangers come in...Doesn't care if anything gets stolen or what else she's got to lose."
Deedee's grimace loosened into a slight smile, and she grabbed Jerome's hand.
"Not us," she reminded him. "She doesn't love us. Doesn't care if she loses us. Not like she should. Perhaps in her own way, but not like she should."
Jerome felt a burning in his chest as Deedee wrapped her fingers around her brother's wrist, pulling him through the front door to lead him into the dark campsite by her two hands, locking eyes with him. He didn't object. Jerome felt like he was under a spell. Of course, he wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do—But even if she was a gypsy, hypnotism really only works if the person deeply wanted to do the action in the first place.
"Come on," she insisted. "Arkham Bridge awaits. We can forget about her just for a few moments there. No one will see us. Just you and me. Like always."
"Always," Jerome reflected distantly.
Arkham Bridge, quite a sight for an intimate gathering, was a desolate area where maybe a park could have been—Like a big ditch with trees, birches, bushes, and overgrown turf. But in the moonlight, it seemed to fit the scene. Lila would have fallen asleep, not to wake up for a few hours to holler at her children to do the chores or to make arrangements to keep her purse safe. Deedee led Jerome to an isolated spot directly under the bridge, hidden from view of traffic and bystanders whom might innocently pass by while on a leisure stroll.
Jerome leaned against the bridge wall, glancing up and hearing the small traffic drive across the structure. Deedee, still strapped up in red and gold, having no time to change before having to coddle to Lila's alcoholic needs, gazed at Jerome with relief.
Finally alone. With no one to hate. To resent. To hope that they would die.
Deedee leaned in to Jerome, who stood stoically in his spot, uncertain how to progress the first step of this experimentation.
"If either of us want to stop," Deedee said gently, "We stop."
"Of course," Jerome said certainly. "And if anyone says something, sees anything—we kill them."
"Got that bloodlust, huh?" Deedee teased him with a satisfied smile. "Filleting cats not good enough anymore?"
Jerome uttered a breathless chuckle, "Does it matter?"
"All right," Deedee confirmed, "Should anyone discover us, we kill them. It has to be a secret."
"Of course," said Jerome.
"Right," repeated Deedee.
She hesitated, knowing that the line would be crossed.
Jerome hesitated, knowing that the line would be crossed.
Deedee licked her lips. Jerome pushed himself away from the bridge wall, a movement to which made her smile.
Jerome slid a hand through his hair.
"Nervous?" suggested Deedee in her own anxious voice.
"Not exactly," Jerome answered.
"Scared you'll hurt me?" Deedee suggested.
"No," said Jerome. "I'm not afraid."
"Is it because of the Past?" Deedee considered.
The Past referred to all things that would make a person hard to love, love too hard, and fear a relationship if left untreated without psychiatric help—or make a person go dark. Dark like them. They went dark a long time ago.
"I won't hurt you," Jerome finally answered.
"You won't." Deedee reassured him.
Deedee stepped forward. Jerome let her cut the distance between them as she placed two fingers under his chin. She admired his facial structure. That jawline…. Jerome stared at her, even as she leaned in. When their lips touched, Jerome and Deedee inhaled sharply. Was this wrong? It didn't feel like it was. It's forbidden, and maybe that was the electricity between them. Deedee felt his mouth twist into a smile.
Deedee slipped her tongue into Jerome's mouth considerately. And he liked it. And she did too.
Under the Arkham Bridge, Jerome wrapped his arms around Deedee's waist, her stomach still licked by sweat; she snaked her fingers around the back of his neck. His skin was hot to the touch. Such a flush.
A forbidden kiss in the moonlight.
Jerome turned her on her feet to push her back against the bridge wall.
Breathless sighs from the kiss seemed louder than what they were as the noise bounced against the concrete bridge.
Deedee reached around her neck, grasping at the metal clasp of her outfit. The rustling of the little steel clips on her dress tinkled as she moved, swiftly undoing the clasp to let the top half of her dress fall down to her waist, abruptly revealing pale breasts and the rest of her slender stomach. Jerome's breath hitched, as he got a good look of what that skimpy outfit actually hid from the audience while on stage. Even as he could have imagined her curves, Jerome approved of her body, and he demonstrated his satisfaction by gently cupping one of breasts in his palm. A small hitch in Deedee's breath—not of fear, more like surprise. Her flesh was hot in his hand, supple even.
She made her turn count, boldly reaching between them to hesitantly palm a growing erection through her brother's jeans. Jerome made a low growl as her fingers taunted the bulge; the noises that came out of him made the hairs of Deedee's neck stand on end—a speckle of goosebumps covered her arms. Deedee had only recently wondered if he was hung, enough to please the ladies—Enviously, she wondered about that girl whom Jerome had been with in order to lose his virginity.
Deedee took his bottom lip between her teeth, a lick from her tongue to taste.
Jerome pulled away, only to dip his head into the crook of her neck to place light kisses against her sensitive skin—once more, the smell of fireworks filled his head. His thumb circled along her sensitive nipple, perking up by his touch. Her back arched involuntarily; a small moan emitted from her throat.
Jerome smirked against her flesh, listening to her try to keep back the small whimpers. He slipped his free hand under the slit of her skirt, caught a glimpse of her red, silk thong. Oh my.
The Circus really knew how to draw in the profits. Jerome could admit to himself that he had intrusive thoughts about her whenever she took center stage; and all the while, he had refused to believe that he had wanted it…But in this moment, it seemed to make sense.
Jerome slipped his hand between her legs and caressed the soft material; and he felt himself grow hard as he felt how wet she was between his fingers. Deedee's hand in his pants thumbed over the buckle of his belt, pulling at it—though clumsily trying to undo it.
"Mm-hm," Jerome uttered, shaking his head, removing his hand from her breast to knock her hand away.
At first, Deedee thought that she had pushed him too far; however, his actions were only a means to an end. Jerome pushed her underwear aside, finding her soft flesh, and tested her wet entrance with a finger—Deedee's mouth dropped open in surprised delight, uttering a pleasurable gasp. He teased her, only hovering where she wanted him the most. Deedee whispered a plea, inaudible, but Jerome got the gist.
"Fuck," was the word she heard him mutter, as he felt along her little folds, and she moaned in need against his neck as she felt his fingers prod and probe. Jerome found her clit with his thumb, stroking slowly in tight circles; Deedee's back arched, as her mouth fell open and her eyes pinched shut, inarticulate gasps leaving her throat as she widened her stance to allow him better access, feeling a growing ache in the center of her core.
He heard her whisper his name, coddled in such pleasure that the blood from his head rushed straight down to his cock.
Jerome pushed his body against hers, pinning her to the bridge wall. His erection struggled against the barrier of his jeans; she felt it against her thigh. Deedee wrapped a leg around his waist, and taking his chance, he slipped a finger inside her. Dripping. She moaned as Jerome slowly inserted a second digit, pumping his fingers in and out of her wet entrance. Her sounds were feverish, her hands clutching his shoulders, turning her knuckles white.
"Faster…" was the word she moaned, her hips twitching against his hand. "I…"
A bubbling feeling began to rise to the surface—so close—
Jerome pulled his fingers out of her—Deedee's face flushed: suddenly, the expression on her face was a glare.
"Why did you stop?" she said, reaching for him—
Jerome crashed lips against hers, pulling her back into a harsh kiss. Lips locked, he dipped his hands between their bodies; Deedee heard his belt unbuckle and unzipping of jeans. Ooh, that's why he stopped.
Jerome dropped his pants, pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. Deedee dropped a hand between them, finding his cock, stroking him—Jerome uttered a guttural moan, sending new goosebumps along Deedee's entire body.
"Fuck me," Deedee begged him through gritted teeth. "Do it."
To assure him that there was no going back, Deedee thumbed the thin panty line of her thong and slipped it down below her knees, urgently kicking it to the side. Jerome's hands found the swell of her ass and picked her up, setting his weight against her. Deedee wrapped her legs around his waist. "Put it in me…" she hissed. Jerome placed his cock in front of her slick entrance, and in a slow go, he penetrated her.
"Oh my god…"
Could have come from both of them at the same time, those three words, as he slowly buried his cock to the shaft inside of her tight walls. It was clear on both of their faces the clear, delicious satisfaction between them, neither disappointed in what the other sibling had to offer. Jerome's brow furrowed as Deedee's pussy clenched tightly around him, trying to adjust to the new space that it had to occupy.
Jerome's fingers clutching Deedee's buttocks tightened as he shuffled the weight of her body and the angle to which he moved against her, pulling out halfway only to push deeper into her pussy; with each thrust, he heard Deedee's breathless moans in his ear—the wet sounds of his thrusts echoing off the ambience from under the bridge. Deedee heard him utter a struggling moan as he slid in and out—
"Harder," Deedee breathed in his ear.
Jerome was delighted to hear it. He obliged, pulled out of her only to ram his cock inside her with little adjustment. Deedee moaned loudly this time, letting her head fall back against cooling concrete wall. Jerome pulled out, slamming into her—
"Say my name again," Jerome hissed, watching his sister's face contort into a mix of pain and pleasure. "Say it…"
"Fuck me harder, Jerome." Deedee gasped.
He pulled her off the wall, lying her down on the grass. Jerome stepped out of his jeans and boxers—in missionary position, he buried his head in her neck, grabbing hold of her arms and pinning them above her head; and he thrusted deep inside her. Deedee's hips buckled against his, skin slapping against skin. Deedee's soft moans switched off, replaced with growing screams. Jerome moaned in her ear as his climax started to stack, her walls clenching hard around him, knowing hers was slowly arriving.
"Just like that…" Deedee pleaded as his pace picked up. "Just like that…Don't stop..."
"No turning back now," Jerome growled in her. "I want you to cum."
It was an interesting thing for Deedee to hear her brother say; but it was the sexiest thing that she had ever heard. Jerome thought it was a strange thing to come out of his mouth, especially to his own sibling, but he said what he said. Deedee invited such a play.
"You feel so good…" she heard herself say. "Oh my god…"
Jerome felt Deedee's core tighten harshly around him—he glanced at her sweating face to see her eyes shut, her mouth open. It was as if she were convulsing; but the strength around him began to drive him toward the edge. He hadn't seen this the last time he had sex—Deedee was having an orgasm. He brought her to it—Deedee's legs constricted around him like the strength of boa. He was going to just let her ride it out; but the idea of the friction he could feel trying to thrust in and out while her body was clamping around him was too good to pass up.
So he pulled out, but shoved his cock inside harder—Deedee's body squirmed underneath him, her gasps coming out in both moan or scream. The expressions on her face were so arousing. Jerome watched her, hearing the blood pounds in his ears and he came closer. He placed a hand around Deedee's neck, and a mischievous grin showed on her face—Do it…
He wrapped his fingers around her throat. Although her moans came out strangled, she bit her bottom lip in arousal. Jerome was taken by surprise, though, when her own hand came to wrap around his throat. Her fingers tightened around his, and he could feel her fingernails cutting into him—
That's all it took.
Jerome hissed Deedee's name as he buried his head in her neck, his body tensed—Deedee felt him swell inside her; he pulled out, only to push right back in with a final thrust, hitting her most sensitive spot—
They both cried out in climax.
He rolled off her, both panting out of sync as they stared up in disbelief at the underside of the Arkham bridge. Deedee, her dress slacking off her breasts and underwear somewhere nearby. Jerome, boxers and jeans huddled by his ankles and shirt pulled up to his chest. Both, dripping in sweat and smelling of sex.
"I feel so much better…" Deedee breathed.
"I do too," said Jerome with a crooked grin.
"Should we go back?" Deedee asked, making no movement whatsoever.
"Nah…" Jerome shook his head. "Let's just hang here for a moment. I'm in no rush to go back to the trailer."