By: Mia Sheridan

"Tá tú gach rud atá go hálainn dom," I breathed.

You are everything that is beautiful to me.

Lydia sighed, tipping her head back and wrapping one leg around my hips. After just a handful of thrusts, I felt an orgasm tightening my abdomen and swelling my cock even further. It was the first time I'd ever been inside a girl. With one final thrust I came, the pleasure washing through me and causing goosebumps to form on the surface of my skin. Groaning, I collapsed beside her and attempted to catch my breath, finally looking at her. Her eyes were slightly stunned, but her expression was introspective, as if she was deep in thought. My heart froze. Did she regret this already? I doubted she'd had an orgasm—she had to be disappointed. I didn't know what to feel. There was joy tightening my chest, but there was also insecurity and confusion, and I tried to remember how this had come to be. "Are ya okay?" I asked her again, repeating the words I'd said the moment I'd taken her virginity. I'd taken Lydia De Havilland's virginity.

"Yes, are you?" she asked.

I couldn't help chuckling. "Yeah. I just . . . I'm not sure exactly how this happened."

Lydia gave me a small smile, leaning up on her arm, her breasts drawing my attention and amazingly making my cock throb again. "I know," she said. I nodded curtly, feeling suddenly awkward. I reached for my jeans and handed Lydia's clothes to her, looking away as she used her underwear to wipe the smear of blood off her left thigh. We both dressed quickly. I wiped my sweaty palms on my hips as I turned to her.

"Lydia, I—" I started, reaching for her hands. The door flew open behind me, hitting the wall with a sudden bang. What? Adrenaline burst through my veins. Myles Landry was standing in the doorway. What the feck? As he took us in, a look of perplexed anger took over his face.

"Lydia?" he asked, his brow furrowing, eyes darting between us and then down to the rumpled blanket on the cot.

I looked at Lydia and her face was white, her expression arrested.

"Why'd you ask me to meet you here, Lydia?" Myles asked, an edge of hostility in his tone. My body went ice cold. Lydia had asked Myles to meet her here after she'd asked me to meet her here? Why? I looked back to Lydia and my heart thudded dully in my chest when I saw the expression on her face: knowing guilt. She'd set me up. She'd wanted Myles to find us here. A game? I had been the unknowing player in some game of hers. Myles's jealousy maybe? Getting him back for some misdeed? Stupid that grief instead of anger should grip me in that moment. All the worse that I didn't remember it hurting this badly when I'd found out my mam had died.

Lydia was shaking her head, her expression still stunned. "I'm sorry," she whispered, turning her eyes my way, big and bright blue in that moment, no green at all. "I really didn't mean for it to go that far. I only meant for him to find us . . . kissing." The last piece of my heart cracked.

"What's going on in here?" My head swiveled back to the door as Stuart De Havilland stepped into the room. Lydia's older brother. Shite. I knew things had just gone from bad to worse, and yet, I couldn't manage to feel anything. I was numb.

Just as Myles's had done, Stuart's gaze went from Lydia to me to the cot and back to me. For the first time, I noticed a smear of blood on the light blue blanket. I watched as rage filled Stuart's expression. He stepped toward me. "What the fuck did you do to my sister?"

"Stuart!" Lydia screamed, stepping forward.

"Don't, Lydia," I managed, stepping forward, as well. "What happened here is a private matter. Excuse me." I went to step around Stuart but he pushed me, his hands braced on my chest so I flew backward, slamming into the wall. Lydia gasped. I clenched my jaw against the sensation of hard wood jarring my body and stood up straight, meeting Stuart's eyes. At seventeen, I was already bigger than him at twenty-one. I could kill him right here if I wanted to.

"Did you rape my sister, you lowlife piece of trash?"

Rage raced through my system and in a flash I stepped forward and swung on him, nailing him straight in the jaw. Lydia shrieked again as her brother went flying backward, stumbling and catching himself. "You motherfucker!" he yelled, his hand coming up to his jaw, blood dripping from his lip.

"Of course he didn't rape me, Stuart," Lydia yelled, her voice high-pitched and panicky. She hurried to Stuart and stood in front of him so he wouldn't attack me . . . I assumed.

She had done this. My Lydia. She had done this. No, not my Lydia. Never mine. Grief clogged my throat, and I almost choked on it.

Stuart narrowed his eyes at me. We stood there for several tense moments, the only sound in the room my own harsh breath. "Add this up, math genius," he finally said, a nasty edge of mocking in his tone. "You taking advantage of my sister plus you being a disgusting piece of garbage equals me throwing your family off my property. Be gone by morning." I froze, my heart hammering.

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