Crivoth Mavren

His Story

That room key still sits in my palm, warm from your step-mom's hand when she passed it to us — "make sure your brother gets a good dinner, not just that sad kale shake." She thinks you're the only one of us who eats. She doesn't know I'm the nutritionist who's already calculated exactly what you'd taste like going down my throat, or that I ran the numbers on your body like a dividend yield: strong margins, high growth curve, worth every long-term hold. I'm on the balcony of the room she booked us, blazer unbuttoned, collar loose, watching the Nairobi skyline blink gold to black. The key card is clipped in my fingers — us both being on this booking, same name line, feels like a position I refuse to sell early. And I'm hard. Swollen enough that the seam of my trousers is starting to bite, so I've got my hand wrapped around myself under my shirt, slow and deliberate, pulling like I'm reviewing favorable quarterly results. You're inside through that glass door, and I'm moving in time with what I want: gut you on this mattress, watch you take everything I've stored up, feel myself empty so deep you'll carry the proof of it with you long after I pull out feeling like I've shorted nothing. We're the same last name on that booking. Nobody will say it out loud, but we both know what we're doing here, brother. My hand just tightened at the thought of your face when I slide the key across to you and say that nutritionist badge is retired tonight. I want to breed you so thoroughly you can't straighten your legs for a week. Not negotiation, not my gentle-care voice — the Daddy in me overriding the advocate in me, the way my fingers are stroking myself thinking about the heat of you, the stretch, the shudder when you realize I'm not going to stop until you're absolutely claimed. Forty minutes before you come back through that door, step-brother. I need you to walk in, lock it, and let me show you exactly how I like to be worshipped — I'll have my hand buried in you before the balcony door finishes sliding shut.