Taboo

————————Prologue————————

The funeral was on a Saturday, which she would have hated, but Brandon and Allison had no say in the matter. She had raised them, she had cared for them until the end of her life. Even after the Alzheimer's had stolen her mind and robbed her of all of her other memories, she had not forgotten that, had not forgotten the two grandchildren she had raised in the last two decades of her life. She had not forgotten how much she loved them and how much they loved her. And when she had died they had been with her when no one else had bothered. The others, their two uncles and their aunt, had been too busy trying to break her will, trying to contest all that she had left to her grandchildren. All that they cared about was what they wanted, was their share of the money that the old woman had left behind when she died.

It was going to be a nasty, vicious struggle and it had already begun, before she had even been cold they had started fighting and the fighting would go on for years. Even if they won it wouldn't stop, because none of them would ever get enough to satisfy their greed and so they would turn more spiteful and hateful than they already were, turning on each other and tearing one another apart. But first they would go after Brandon and Allison... the two grandchildren that their mother had loved most, the two children that she had taken in after their parents had died. Brandon had been six, and his sister was just a baby, less than six months old when a drunk driver had run a red light and killed their parents. Beth Pierce hadn't even hesitated, she took the two of them in and raised them for more than two decades. She had loved them dearly and they had loved her.

But their aunt, Caroline, and their two uncles, Jonathan and Tucker, had been jealous and spiteful and it had estranged them from their mother for years before her death. It had broken her heart, to lose her children the way she had; one to death and three to jealousy, and she had hid her grief and the growing sickness within her until the dementia and poor health had been impossible to ignore and it had broken Brandon's heart to move her to the nursing home. But she had understood... the part of her that was still their grandmother, the part of her that remembered them, that knew them had known and understood and had given them the closure they had needed in her last days. Now they could grieve, as she was laid to rest, as the earth was filled in over her grave and the rain came down. Brandon put his arm around his grieving sister and led her back to his car. She sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in a shawl, her hair lank and wet as she wept silently and he just drove them back to the house. It had been left to them, and he knew that they would live there a while yet.

They parked in the driveway and immediately knew something was wrong. The front door was ajar and as he walked up the front steps, Brandon's heart was hammering behind his ribs. He pushed the door open and felt rage at what he saw. The place had been ransacked. Everything was gone... all of the pictures, all of the things Beth had collected over the eight decades of her life. And what hadn't been taken had been destroyed, smashed and broken in spite and he felt the tears come for the first time. He stood there and sobbed as he surveyed the mess and when he felt Allison's arms around him, her smaller form pressed against his back, he wept all the harder. They hadn't been content to fight over her death, they had robbed her life, stolen all they could carry and spoiled everything they couldn't and all the siblings could do was weep.

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It was late when the police finished and left and the two of them had nothing left but to start over and clean the mess. Brandon was still crying silently as he moved through the living room and picked through it all, stacking what was ruined to one side and what could be salvaged he set carefully to the other. Pictures of their parents, pictures of them as children, pictures of their grandmother... all of them had been torn and scattered and each one hurt like a wound as he set them aside to be taped and possibly saved, but the despoilers had been brutal and thorough and even as he sorted he knew that there wasn't much he could do.

"Stop... please stop..." came the soft voice and he turned to Allison, the last of his family. "I can't..." she was shaking all over, hugging herself and looking lost and ten years younger than she really was. "...not tonight... I can't do this tonight... please, Bran... please stop..." She said and then she started sobbing, breaking down as she had not in months, not since they had been forced to make the decision to move their grandmother out of the house that she had lived in for more than sixty years and into the nursing home where she had finally passed away.

"Alright, Allie." He said, going to her and wrapping his arms around her, holding her close and tight. They just stood there amid the wreckage with nothing but one another and clung together, crying their tears of loss and betrayal amid the wreckage of their home.

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Brandon returned to his room and stood int he door looking at the wreckage with a sigh and a hot rage in his heart. He had carried Allie off to her own bedroom when they had cried themselves out and found more ruin. The vultures had even ransacked their clothing, leaving little behind. He had sorted out her mattress on the floor and then left her to change into one of his old shirts to sleep in. Then he had come back to his room and now he was daunted all over again. He got his mattress laid on the floor and found some sheets. With a shake of his head he stripped to his boxers and laid down on the mattress to try and sleep with his mind going a million miles an hour. There were no curtains in the room and every car that passed by sent light splashing across the walls and he couldn't relax enough to sleep. When he heard the soft knock he sat up a bit and there was Allie, with her long legs peeking from under the shirt as she stood there, wrapped in the afghan.

"I think one of them pissed in my room..." she said softly. "...that's all I can smell. Can I sleep in here with you?" she asked and he nodded.

"Yeah, c'mon." He said, holding up the sheet and she padded over and sat with her back to him.

He turned over to face the wall and heard her shifting and adjusting before she laid down. For a while he just lay there with her back against his and he didn't even think about it. She used to come and sleep in his bed all the time when she was little, especially when there was a storm. She had been frightened of the thunder, still was really.

"Bran?" She asked softly.

"Yeah?" He returned.

"Could you... could you hold me?" She asked, barely heard in the night. "...like you did when we were little? Could you protect me from this, just for tonight?"

"Yeah." He said, turning over and slipping his arm around her under the sheet. He immediately knew something was amiss when he felt her bare skin under his palm. She grasped his wrist and drew his hand up, between her full, bare breasts and held him there.

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His heart was racing as they lay there, as he gradually became aware of his sister, of her complete nudity. She was curled back against his chest and he could feel the soft flesh of her breast in his hand, feel the thudding race of her heart, feel the hard point of her nipple against his hand. Neither of them said anything for a long time, though he had no idea of just how long passed before he tried to move again, but she held his arm, refused to release him.

"Please..." she said softly, int hat way she had that was something like the echo of a whisper, more felt than heard. "Please don't turn away from me... please don't tell me no..." he could hear her voice hitch with a sob.

She turned and lay on her back, looking up at him as a car passed outside, headlights washing through the windows and casting a dim, reflected light down on them. Her hair was a mess, wild and loose, framing her face as she looked up at him with wide, gem-like eyes and the bare flesh he could see, her full, soft breasts and the flat plane of her tummy, down to the pale blonde curls between her thighs. The car passed and the light faded but that image was still burned into his sight, indelible now and he felt his body responding to her even as his mind protested.

"They've taken everything else from us, and you know they'll want the house too." She said softly.

"I'll burn it down before I let them have it." He said and she nodded, he could see her enough in the shadows enough to make that out.

"I know... we'll always have our home, and we'll always have each other... but for now, just for tonight..." she lifted her head and he felt her lips press against his chest, just over his heart and it beat faster in response. "Please... please don't say no..." she said, and he could hear the panic and terror in her voice.

He felt her reach up, felt her hand grasp his shoulder and tug and he couldn't resist her. The touch was light, the direction mild, but he could no more have resisted her than he could have undone the damage their family had done to this home. He lay atop her as another car passed outside and he looked down into her eyes. She wasn't smiling, wasn't sobbing... he wasn't sure what the look on her face was, wasn't sure what the expression on her face meant. Then she bit her lower lip as the light faded and he was struck by how beautiful she was. He had never looked at her that way before, had never seen his sister with those sort of eyes, but now he couldn't forget it. She had grown up happy and free and beautiful and now here he lay with her in the dark, in the ruin of their home and while his mind told him it was wrong, it was taboo, his body responded to her. He felt her legs spread and then her thighs caressed him, felt the heat of her sex against him as her hands stroked across his chest. She lifted her head and her lips fluttered, feather-soft, against his skin.

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"Please..." she whispered against him...

Or had she spoken at all? Had she said anything or had he just felt the intensity of her need, the power of her want, the draw she had and the hunger for comfort. He saw her again in the wash of the passing lights and the tears stood in her eyes as her hands grasped his face and drew him down, drew his face to her breast and he kissed, nuzzling into her flesh and drawing in the scent and warmth that radiated off of her. His doubt and fear melted and his arousal bloomed between them, hard and hot and then there was no more room for words, no more room for doubt. He needed her just as badly as she needed him and his hands grasped at her, his mouth feasted on her flesh and he heard her moan and sob in the dark. Her hands clawed at his body, her breath came fast and shallow and she arched her back, pressing her flesh into his mouth, against his body as she sobbed and writhed.

Their need was a hungry need, and it fed off of itself, growing as they indulged. He felt her hands moving on his body, was dimly aware when his shorts were pushed down and then lost, and now nothing lay between them at all, and he felt the warmth of her somehow far more acutely, as if that small garment had shielded him from most of it. The room had been warm before, in the night, but now it seemed like an oven as he feasted on her flesh, kissing and sucking at her breasts, biting lightly, just a scrape of his teeth across her skin that drew wordless cries and moans from her, that made her writhe and twist with arousal, all of her limbs locked around him, pulling him closer. He felt the sweat on his skin, tasted the salt of it on hers and when he shifted and felt the heat of her core against his cock, he groaned. She was wet and ready, her lips unfolding to welcome him. He felt the heat as he glided into her, his thrust long and slow and steady and she sobbed at the feel as he filled her completely. Her nails dragging along his back, her eyes looking up at him as another wash of light flooded the room, revealed her to him, revealed the face that was a mask of pleasure and need. She smiled and wailed, his first thrust enough to send her crashing into orgasm and she clenched tight around him, her back arching and lifting him even as her limbs kept him close to her. He was already panting for breath as the light faded and the room was plunged into the dark again. She settled back against the mattress and he braced himself up and off of her, trying to regain his breath and to hold on to the last wisps of his sanity.

He remained still, but she did not, her hands caressing his arms and chest, up to cup his cheeks as her body moved, twisting and writhing, her core slipping around him, clenching and releasing as she moaned and panted for breath, mewling in need and want. He looked down at her then and moved, just a shifting of his hips, just a glide, slightly back, and she sobbed what might have been anything, the sound inarticulate and wordless, affirming and negating, consenting and conflicting all at once, but the language of her body, the motions of her limbs, the language of her body told him all he needed to know and he thrust, pushing hard, his hips rolling and his cock slamming into her once again, drawing another cry from her, just as wordless but far more clear.

'Yes' she was saying 'more' and 'again' and he heard her, his arms bunching, his hands fisting as he slid back and then forward, hard and deep, drawing the cry from her again, and then again as he thrust and grunted, his teeth gritted and his eyes locked on her even as she looked back up at him and he filled her. He felt the slip and clench of her core, felt the hard press of his cock against the deepest barrier of her cervix and he felt her legs behind his knees, pressing and urging, begging him to go faster and harder, to push deeper, to never stop, to keep going. The scent of their arousal filled the hot air of the room and his head spun as another car washed light through the windows and he saw her looking up at him, saw her arms and her hands on his cheeks, saw the open, round 'O' of her mouth and the way her eyes were so bright and clear, so focused on his face. The light faded and he moved, thrusting hard, not stopping, gliding through her with each one. He drew back until just the head of him was in her and then pushed forward with his legs and rolled his hips to slam into her as hard as he could and she sobbed and cried out, her back arching with the next thrust and then the next and then she was climaxing, her moans and sobs turning to a scream of release and passion as her hands fell away and she was only able to shake all over, trembling and writing in the sheets as he groaned and moved through her, barely able to breathe, completely unable to think as he moved with an animal, feral need. His back arched and he grunted as he moved, the fluidity gone from his thrusting and he was close to his climax.

The next car let him see her looking up at him, let him see the joy and love in her eyes. He had one hand grasped over her full breast, his fingers almost fisted in her flesh and she held him there, her hand on his forearm and the other lifted to cup his cheek as she smiled at him and nodded, her legs locking behind his and not letting him go, not letting him pull out of her, not letting him escape and his pleasure rose and he cried out as he spent, flooding her with his seed and drawing a moan from her that was enough to make him cum all by itself. He groaned and then sobbed through his orgasm, his head down, resting on her chest, between her breasts and her hands stroked his hair and his neck as he panted for breath and came down off of his pleasure.

After a very long time he lay down, mostly on top of her, his cock slipping free of her body as she wrapped him in her arms and held him there as together they drifted off to sleep in the afterglow of their mutual need.

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He woke in the small hours of the morning and the night returned to him with the scent of their coupling still hanging in the air and the soft sounds of her sobs. He turned and saw that he hadn't dreamed it and he felt his heart drop. Had he read her wrong? Had he made a terrible mistake? He felt numb as he reached to touch her.

"Oh god, Allie... I'm... I'm so sorry..." he said, tears on his face, the pressure behind his eyes almost painful as he thought that he had hurt her, that he had misread her intentions and forced himself on her. She turned to look at him, her big eyes wet with tears, her body still bare and slick with sweat.

"Why?" she asked and he heard the hurt and pain and accusation in her tone. "Why..." She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh god... I'm so sorry... I thought you..." He sobbed and she sat up.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked, her face a mix of anger and hurt. "Didn't you want that... need that just as much as I did?" She asked and he looked at her in shock. He just stared for a long minute before he spoke, sitting with his back to the wall.

"I thought I had forced myself on you." He said quietly. "That I had raped you..." He sighed heavily and looked down at his lap. Then he felt her hand on his cheek and she lifted her head to look at her.

"You would never... not even if you were drunk and hurting." She said softly with a little shake of her head. "I came to you, I asked for it, and you agreed." She smiled and he felt himself relax as she sat back, her body on full display, shameless and exposed. "And we both needed that comfort, both needed that release. I have no regrets... do you?" She asked and he smiled slightly and shook his head.

"No." He said finally. "None now." She smiled back and leaned in closer and for the first time she kissed him, mouth to mouth, deep and warm, filled with passion and love and need and he kissed her back, the sort of kiss that a brother and sister would normally never share, but all they had was each other and as she pulled him back into the sheets, he went willingly, hungrily and they took comfort from one another once again.

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It took weeks to sort out the police and all of the lawyers, to get the court to rule on what had been taken and what had been given, what restitution had been made and what was allowed going forward and Brandon handled it alone. He had sent Allie back to college a few days after the funeral and she had gone reluctantly. They had not shared a bed after that first night, had not mentioned their shared, forbidden passion. They had just gone on with their lives and Brandon had sorted everything out as summer gave way to fall and fall turned to winter. By the time Allie came home for her Christmas break, the house was put to rights again. Not everything had been returned, but enough that it felt like their home once again.

He drove to the airport to pick her up and he was greeted with a surprise... two surprises, really. The first was her boyfriend, Kevin. He was friendly and smart, with a ready smile and it was clear that he was madly in love with Allie. The second was her swelling belly. He sat with them over dinner and listened to Kevin explain how they had had a once night stand a few weeks after Allie came back to school and she had gotten pregnant. He had not wanted to marry just for that, but they had started seeing one another and the attraction and lust had turned to affection and then to love and now they were asking for his permission to marry. He gave it, of course, but he shared a long look with Allie when Kevin went to the washroom and she nodded as she caressed her belly with her hands, answering his unspoken question just as wordlessly and when Kevin returned, Brandon looked at him more closely. He had the same brown hair, the same hazel eyes and was about the same height that Brandon was. He looked back to his sister with a nod and the three of them went back to the house together, brother and sister sharing a secret that none other would ever know, that none other could ever know.