"Just this once more," she whispered. "And then never again."
He stood frozen, afraid to move, afraid he would stumble and fall because of the trembling within him.
"No," he said hoarsely.
"Please," she whispered, her fingers opening, searching.
He stood there as if paralyzed.
An anguished moan came from deep within him.
There would be no more of this, no more humiliation, no more groveling before her.
This time she would learn to leave him alone. With one hand, he seized her wrists and bent her back to the bed.
Her eyes were still confident, still unafraid as they watched him.
Suddenly, he pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was warm and moist and still tasted of the orange soda. Then he moved his head and his lips were traveling down her body, across her throat, over her breasts.
It was then she began to fight him.
"No!" she whispered, writhing away from him. "No! Don't touch me!"
But he didn't even hear her. He could feel the red rage pumping in his temples; there was a congestion in his chest. He felt her hand pull loose and rake his chest, leaving a clean, hot path of pain in its wake. Bewildered, he looked down at himself and saw the bloody traces of her fingernails on his flesh.
A terrible anger rose up in him.
"You cock-teaser!" he yelled, swinging his free hand. The blow caught her on the side of her face. knocking her back against the bed. She stared up at him with frightened eyes. "You bitch!" he said, tearing his belt from his trousers.
He raised her arms over her head and lashed her wrists to the iron bedpost. He picked up the half-empty bottle from the bed where it had fallen.
"Still thirsty?" She shook her head.
He tilted the bottle and began to laugh as the orange soda ran down over her. "Drink!" he said. "Drink all you can!"
The bottle flew from his hands as she kicked it away.
He caught at her legs and pinned them against the bed with his knees. He laughed wildly.
"Now, my darling little sister, there'll be no more games."
"No more games," she gasped, staring up into his eyes.
His face came down and his mouth covered hers. She felt herself begin to relax.
Then the fierce, sharp pain penetrated her body.
She screamed. His hand came down heavily over her mouth, as again and again the pain ripped through her. And all that was left was the sound of her voice, screaming silently in the confines of her throat, and the ugliness and horror of his body on her own.
Laddie rolled over on the sand.
It was all over now. Tomorrow his mother would know.
And it would be his fault. They would blame him and they would be right.
No matter what, he shouldn't have let it happen.
A shadow fell across him and he looked up.
Rina was standing there. She dropped to the sand beside him.
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't know," he said dully.
She reached a hand out to his.
"I shouldn't have let you do it," she whispered.
"You couldn't have stopped me," he said. "I must have been crazy."
He looked at her. "If we were anybody else, we could run away and get married."
"I know."
His voice turned bitter. "It isn't as if we were really brother and sister. If only they hadn't adopted- "
"But they did," Rina said quickly, and with a sure knowledge. "Besides, we can't blame it on them.
It wasn't their fault."
She felt the tears come into her eyes. She sat there silently as they rolled down her cheeks.
"Don't cry."
"I- I can't help it," she whispered. "I'm scared."
"I am, too," he said. "But crying won't help." The tears kept rolling silently down her cheeks. After a moment, she heard his voice. She looked at him. His lips moved awkwardly. "Even if you are my sister, you know that I love you?" She didn't answer. "I've always loved you, I guess. I couldn't help it.
Somehow, the other girls were nothing when I compared them with you."
"I guess the reason I was so bad was because I was jealous of the girls you went with," she confessed. "I didn't want them to have you.
That's why I did what I did.
I couldn't let any other boy touch me. I couldn't stand them."
His hand tightened on her fingers.