Quarantined: Book 1 of The Quarantine Series Page 2

  "Milo, listen to me. You have to stop. Reid is just about to come home. He is going to hear me scream. He might be your brother. But he is my best friend. You know he will kill you if he finds you forcing yourself on me. He will never forgive you. Your relationship will be…"

  I don't quite finish my sentence as I am tossed on the familiar bed. Milo immediately covers my body with his, keeping me in place with his large upper body.

  I am mortified. I try to hit him with my hands, legs, elbows. Anything that will make contact. I scream as I push his chest back and try to kick him in the groin. I could have saved my breath.

  If possible, Milo had gotten stronger and bigger in the last few years. I can't move him. His legs keep mine in place. He grabs both my wrists and pins them on the mattress.

  "Enough Rave," he spits out.

  I start screaming again. "Fuck off. You have no right to do this to me..."

  "No right? I am the only one with the right." He whispers in my ear. "You are mine. Or did you forget?"

  "I am not yours. I will never be yours. Forcing me does not make me yours."

  "You are still lying to yourself. Just like you lied about Reid coming home. You don't think I know when he is coming home. If you stop lying to yourself and to me, we wouldn't be here."

  "Fuck you!"

  He crushes his lips onto mine. He nips at my bottom lip till I part my lips, and slips his tongue inside my mouth. His tongue starts to explore my mouth aggressively, leaving me no space to reject it.

  This can't be happening. I am trying to catch my breath, but his mouth is not letting me. As I focus on getting oxygen, I can't think of a plan of action to get out of this situation.

  One of his hands goes between us, pulling the black dress I am wearing, up to my waist. He pushes my thong down forcefully.

  I try appealing to his humanity if he even has any left.

  "Milo, listen to me. I have known you all my life. You are a good man. You know this is wrong. Please don't do this," I whisper. There has to be something left inside of him. Some sort of semblance of the man I used to know.

  He puts his forehead to mine and groans, "Rave, I thought about you every single day, every hour, every fucking second. I can’t stop now. Not when you are here, finally in front of me."

  "Please just stop, and I will forget this ever happened."

  Milo glares at me. "You will never forget this happened. And you will never forget me. I won't let you."

  He starts to trail kisses on my neck and moves up to my jaw. His voice drops. "Fuck! I missed you. I missed you so fucking much. You don't know how…" His voice starts to shake.

  His lips collide into mine again. Shaking with anger, I try to bite him. I try to reach for anything in the vicinity of my teeth. His nose, his lip, his ears. His head falls back, and he curses out as I make contact.

  "Stop it unless you want to get punished!"

  "Get off me right now, or I will do it again."

  "Then, I guess you want to be punished."

  "Get off me!" I yell as loud as I can.

  Milo doesn't even bother responding to me and pretends like I am not there, while I am literally under him.

  I try using my limbs again to attack him. He has to know that I won't go down without a fight. I will not just lie here and take it. Milo collects both my wrists and grabs them with one of his large hands. He pins them both on my belly and drops down towards my lower body.

  Before I can comprehend what he is doing, his tongue is on my clit. He knows where my sensitive spot is, and he immediately finds it. One of his hands has both my wrists pinned on my belly, pushing down with force and keeping me locked in place. The other hand travels south as he slips two fingers inside me.

  Completely boxed in, I will my body not to respond to his tongue, as it invades my slit. I already know it's useless. He knows every single spot on my sex and can make me come with blindfolds on.

  It's no different this time. Within minutes, I arch my back and clench, knowing what's about to happen. He knows it too. He has released my wrists. They no longer need to be held down, as I am now chasing this high on my own.

  I hear the opening of his zipper in the background, as my eyes flutter shut. I already know from experience that he has pulled down his pants.

  Unable to hold back any longer, I let out a scream. "Oh God," my mouth is open as the orgasm takes over. He immediately swaps out the tongue on my clit with his fingers and then swaps his fingers with the head of his cock. The switch between the three happens so fast that I don't feel any sensation leaving that spot.

  He prolongs my orgasm for an unbearable moment, as he keeps rubbing the head of his cock to that same spot. I stay arched and fist my hands. My voice is stifled. I can't even scream. As my orgasm leaves me. I immediately feel his dick stretching me out.

  He enters slowly, too fucking slowly. I feel him shake with his efforts to control the pace. He roars out, the moment his cock is all the way in. "Holy shit, baby! Fuck!"

  Instead of thrusting, he pants heavily and stills. He strokes my hair as he stares down at me. The intimacy is unbearable.

  Still panting, he finds a slow rhythm, testing the water. He covers my neck with soft kisses and works his way up to my face. "Fuck, baby! I missed you. I missed you so damn much. You are even better than I remember. You are fucking perfect."

  Milo speeds up more, thrusting and rotating his hips. I can barely catch my breath, but I refuse to make any more sounds that might make him happy. I lie completely still, with a blank stare, waiting for him to finish. I know this bothers him more than anything. While I have no control over this situation, I can at least have control over this small moment. Apathy is my ultimate form of defiance against him.

  I can feel the anger at my defiance, pulsing through his body. It's quickly followed by a look of determination. He nibbles at my bottom lip. Then he drops his head to suck on my neck, twirling his tongue around a spot I like. This is tough for me. It's a sensitive spot.

  But I refuse to give him another inch. This fucker is forcing himself on me. He got me to orgasm, simply because he knows my body. And he passed it off as consent. I am not going to give him any more satisfaction. Fuck him!

  As my resolve grows, I can almost feel that his does too. He slows his thrusts and drops his head to lick my breasts.

  My dress is still hiked up to my waist. Instead of pulling my dress off, he pulls the top down, so my outfit is bunched around my midsection. He grabs on to one of the cups of my bra and yanks it to the side to reveal my right breast.

  His tongue swipes over my breasts. He licks my nipple, then takes it between his teeth, grazing them.

  I don't look down at my breasts or at him. I can feel his eyes watching me, waiting for a reaction. I stare straight at the ceiling. However, my insides are frozen. I have a bad feeling about what he is up to.

  There was an accident once, during our intimate times together. He was fucking me and flicking my right nipple with his tongue. He nibbled on it with his teeth, exactly when I squeezed him. The squeeze surprised him, and he thrust up, hard. His body shot forward, just when he had clamped down on my nipple with his teeth. To say it was painful is putting it mildly.

  From what I understand of this psychopath, his fixation on me comes from my rejection. Women throw themselves at him. I didn't have the same interest in him. Given that I wasn't even one-tenth as beautiful as the girls he brought around, I think it irked his huge ego.

  Hence, he wants me to crave him. Being the perfect narcissist that he is, he wants me to like his physical touch. So he always only did things that got me off.

  After that incident, I recoiled from sex for a couple of days. I wouldn't get aroused, no matter how hard he tried. And he was not going to allow me to recoil from him. Since then, he only sucked gently or licked my nipples. He never used his teeth.

  Until now. Now his teeth are on my nipple, holding me at mercy, ready to clamp down. The memory of the traumatizing pain comes
back, and panic starts to flare all around me. He knows I hate this. I know he is doing it to punish me for my defiance.

  I can feel the slow fucking speed up a little faster with each thrust. We are playing a game of chicken to see who will fold first. He wants me to give him an expression. He can deal with anger or lust. But he can't deal with nothingness.

  I don't want to risk the possibility of a harder thrust, right as he clamps now. I know if I give him something, he will stop. I also know that if he clamps down, he risks my body recoiling the next time he touches me.

  I shudder inwardly at the thought that there might be the next time. All the same, I decide to call his bluff. I stay frozen and expressionless.

  Suddenly, without any provocation, he changes his mind about this stupid mind fuck of a game. He licks around my nipple and flicks it instead. He then licks his way back up, and I let go of the breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

  He sucks on my neck, and this time I relax from my trepidation. I am grateful that the fear is gone. As I relax, he speeds up, pumping faster into me. My whole body jerks from the impact. His dick rubs against my sensitive clit, enough to send some aftershocks from the orgasm. Despite myself, I arch my back and moan out as another orgasm takes hold.

  "That's it, baby! Come with me."

  My eyelids fly open as I realize what I have done. The fake me out nipple clamping was a distraction. I was so relieved he didn't bite down, I got distracted enough to let go of my resolve. And gave him the expression he truly wanted, my submission. That dipshit.

  I don't even have to look at him to know he is wearing a smirk. With nothing else to prove, he pounds harder, as he climaxes inside me.

  Afterwards, he kisses my cheek, my neck, looking content as hell. He wanted my submission. I gave it to him. Yet again.

  "That was amazing."

  He buries his head in the hollow of my neck as I turn away my face. He holds on to me tightly and utters, "I knew you would remember. Your body always remembers that you are mine. You will always be mine."

  CHAPTER 1

  Nine Years Ago

  August 7th, 2011

  -----------

  Milo

  I wipe down the kitchen counter, which is still littered with food crumbs. I should have known better when mom decided to make breakfast. She was high on life earlier today, cooking and singing. She made a massive mess in the kitchen.

  Right after breakfast, she crashed from her high and retreated into her room. Reid and Mia have no idea what happened and why her door is locked again. I am not going to ruin one of the only good days they have had with her in weeks, so I decide to clean up the mess and take the runts out to see Uncle John.

  It's one of our various family traditions, one outing per weekend, no matter how small. During the weekdays, Reid and Mia are in school. They don't notice mom locked away in her room for hours on end. But on weekends, they are around for far too long, so I distract them with made-up activities; as if it's completely normal for a sixteen-year-old to be in charge of his thirteen-year-old brother and eight-year-old sister.

  I finish cleaning up, as Mia and Reid run downstairs. Mia almost loses her footing at the bottom. I smile and shake my head. Lifting her up I swing her around.

  "Wheeee…" she squeals out. I put her down, and she falls into a fit of giggles. Reid and Mia tug at their socks and shoes, ready to leave the house. I have barely done the laces on my combat boots when Reid opens the front door, practically flying out.

  I smirk. He can't wait to see Raven, his best friend. Today is the day Raven and Uncle John officially moved in next door. And we are going over to welcome them.

  Though we call him uncle, we are actually not related. Uncle John is my dad's best friend. They grew up in a small southern town in Virginia. The friendship was solidified through religion. Both of their families are devout Christians and they both grew up in the church community. Throughout their lives, they tried to instill the same values in us. It didn't quite stick.

  After high school, they went to the same college. They even applied to the same medical schools, but it didn't work out. Dad ended up in New York, while Uncle John ended up in Boston. They settled in their respective cities, but still considered each other to be brothers. So he was always Uncle John to us.

  I was three years old when Uncle John got married. Within the year, they had a baby girl, Raven. And my parents had Reid. In fact, Reid and Raven were born on the same day, one hour apart.

  So naturally, they struck up a lifelong friendship. Growing up, they were inseparable. Every time Dad visited Uncle John in Boston, Reid tagged along.

  When I was younger, I used to visit them too. But the last time I visited them was eight years ago. That's when Mom got "sick," and life went to shit.

  Mia was born when I was eight. And mom started having mood swings, crazy highs, and lows. Initially, they chalked it up to postpartum depression. Later she was diagnosed with major depression. Finally, it was anxiety, depression, and now she is currently being investigated for bipolar disorder. The opinions have been many, with even more drugs and therapy treatments. Nowadays, she just hangs out in her room, coming out on select days when she is feeling well enough.

  Our lives took a huge hit when mom's unsuspecting disorders crept up, disrupting life as we knew it. She became utterly oblivious of her surroundings, drowning in self-pity. Her bedroom and her bed became her solace. And we became strangers to her. It's not like she is abusive or anything. Deep neglect is the best way to describe it.

  One time, when Mia was young, I came home and found her crying her little lungs out. She was alone in her crib. Her diaper hadn't been changed, and she possibly hadn't been fed for hours. I quickly realized it would be dangerous to leave Mia alone in mom's care. I convinced dad to hire a part-time nanny, and started helping with Mia after school.

  Once Mia was old enough, I found a reputable daycare. Even then, mom forgot to pick her up a couple of times. Once more, I had dad hire a nanny to care for Mia after daycare. It was alright for a while.

  However, when Mia turned four, she started rebelling against nannies with a vengeance. She became super attached to me and would throw a fit if any strangers tried to take care of her. When she started school, it was World War III with her, trying to part ways when I dropped her off in the mornings. As needed as I felt, it was a lot of pressure for a thirteen-year-old to be in charge of his five-year-old baby sister.

  Dad tried his best to help, but he worked such long hours at the hospital that Mia simply never developed an attachment to him. He didn't have a choice. Mom lost her job after missing one too many days. Dad picked up extra moonlighting shifts so that we could carry on the lifestyle we grew accustomed to.

  Initially, we tried to make it work without a second income. The previous owners had customized our house in almost a duplex style. The downstairs has its own entrance, kitchen, bedrooms, living rooms, a complete apartment. We felt comfortable enough to rent it out to make up for the loss of income. But after one freak tenant to the next bad tenant, we decided it's not sustainable for a family of five to rent out a portion of their living quarters. Our alternative was to cut back on the semi luxurious lifestyle we lived.

  We are not rich, but we do have a brownstone on the Upper West Side, all three of us go to private school, and dad started trust funds for us when we were young. While we are not made of money, we are quite comfortable.

  Financial stability is something dad never had when he was growing up. He didn't want us to be deprived of opportunities because of money. I get it. He wants us to have the best chances and opportunities in life. The New York City public school system will not provide that for you. Private schools and trust funds will.

  Hence, dad started working extra moonlighting shifts on his off days. It was so hard to watch his tired eyes with dark circles from lack of sleep.

  That's when I decided to step in. I couldn't let dad drown. I did whatever I could to help around the hous
e. I never complained to him and never let him understand the effect of the burden of raising Mia and Reid had on me.

  As far as he was concerned, they were taken care of at school all day, followed by various after school activities. It didn't cross his mind to figure out who picked up Mia after school, if their homework was done, if they were being disciplined for poor behavior, if their lunches were being packed, or what they ate for dinner. You know, the general upkeep of raising children.

  He was always the main breadwinner in the household and had literally no clue how the children were being brought up. That was always my mom's job. He never questioned how those duties were still being filled, considering mom was absent and Mia shrieks anytime she sees a nanny walking into the household. It's a trigger. Mia assumes if the nanny is coming to stay over, then I am going to leave her.