Ian began to fight, and Silas responded by pressing himself down on his brother with his full weight, which seemed to take the breath and the fight out of him. “I’m doing this so you’ll remember, so there’s less I have to repeat next time. “Please don’t!”
“Answer me.”
“None.”
“That’s right. “Tell me how much it hurts,” Silas moaned as he thrust. “Hear me?”
Ian’s eyes rolled up to Silas’s face, and he gagged and tried to spit, but eventually nodded. “Tell me how much I’m hurting you,” he said, pressing his forehead lovingly against Ian’s back. He strung them around the bedpost where Ian lay, in case he should need either for a restraint later. He lay there for nearly a minute, panting while his nerves sang and Ian struggled to breathe. And because I can.” Silas laughed again, jamming a finger into Ian’s loosened hole. With the drink still buzzing in Ian’s system, his level of resistance was weak.
