Jackson (MF/incest [B/S]/historical)

So this is just a quick sample of a story I’ve been working on since yesterday. I’ve never written erotica before and would like some feedback before I continue. The story will be posted here when it’s finished if enough people are interested. Constructive criticism please! Thank you <3 (all characters in this story are 18 or older)

My mother and I lived in what was possibly the shittiest manor in all of Georgia. My father had left it to us following his untimely death on my fifteenth birthday.
I suppose the manor itself wasn’t so bad, just the state it was in. My mother had always had a habit of spending more money than we could afford, and the care of the house had suffered as a result. We had to let all of the staff go except for two maids and the cook, and we retreated to the main rooms of the house. Many of the suites were left to dust and ruin. Looking at my mother’s behavior following my father’s death, I quickly came to the conclusion that she had married him purely for his fortune.
When I was younger, I never paid any mind to all the men that came around while father was away. It was concerning that I never saw any of these “uncles” during the holidays, but that was my only concern. As I grew older, I never thought that I would understand my mother… that is, until *he* came home.
My brother, Jackson, had been drafted into the army the second he turned 18, a mere year after our father had died in battle. When he arrived on our stoop two years following his desertion of his family, I thought I would cry. Instead, all I could do was stare, confused by the unforgiving soldierly man that stood in front of me. He brought with him flowers, although on closer inspection they had been clipped from our front grounds. I invited him in, of course. He was my big brother, and I hadn’t seen him in what felt like an eternity.
Of course, it was awkward. Not only did mother not approve of his homecoming, but I was having trouble keeping my eyes off what his finely fitted clothes revealed of his sculpted form. Long, muscular legs, broad shoulders, slightly shaggy raven hair and electric grey eyes that could melt a girl of lesser constitution, all wrapped up in a sinfully attractive tweed suit.
Despite my Mother’s objections and my own concerns, Jackson came to live with us. He had procured a stable job at the city bank and was able to narrowly save our small estate from ruin. Everything seemed to be fine.
Except he was an asshole.

I thought I would be happy, having my brother back, but instead he spent what seemed like every waking moment tormenting me with extremely childish behavior- he tied my shoelaces in impossible knots (curse his army training), he filled my pillowcase with pebbles, but the worst of all was the clapping.
Jackson had taken the bedroom nearest mine, despite our offers of a suite of his own. He used this opportunity to incessantly applaud every night from dusk till far past midnight. I couldnt think of any reason he should be clapping so frequently except to annoy the ever loving shit out of me.
One night, I had had enough. Jackson had been going at it harder than usual, but it still it took me until around eleven to work up the courage to say something. Finally, I stormed across the hall.
“What the FUCK are you clapping at-” I froze as I held the door open. I could feel my eyes grow wide as saucers. Suddenly the “clapping” made sense.
There was my brother, buck ass naked. His long, lean body stretched over half the bed, his feet resting on the floor. My eyes met his and slowly traveled down, lingering on the strength of his rugged stomach, and finally coming to rest on the thick, impossibly sized cock that rested in his right hand. His face held a dazed, drunken expression. I had clearly caught him on the verge of pleasure. Upon seeing me, his cock involuntarily twitched and his hips bucked slightly.
“Jay,” he had said my name, but it came out as more of a moan. Slowly, almost as if it pained him, he stood. Disrobed, his height seemed even more significant as he towered over my small frame. He was still at a safe distance, thank God. With his stormy gaze traversing my lightly clad body, coupled with his tousled hair and the glorious length between his legs, I could have fainted. Instead, I did something far worse. The Lord save my soul.

“Brother-” my voice narrowly avoided breaking. A smirk grazed his lips.
“Jay, I thought you were supposed to be the good one,” he purred. My thighs felt slick beneath my light skirt and my stomach was far too warm.
Usually, my brother was very well-dressed. Seeing him like this, disheveled, predatory, primal… it was near too much. I could feel myself becoming tomato red, my nipples hardening and my mouth watering as my body betrayed my morals.
Sensing my arousal, or perhaps just because he felt like it, Jackson closed the space between us, his stiffened cock swaying slightly with his lithe movements. His deep grey eyes searched my own green ones with a hesitancy completely contradictory to his sardonic smirk. He was just as unsure as I was, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
But passion always wins over fear.

I thought of all the ways Jackson had pissed me off lately, and then forced myself to recall the sweeter memories from before his betrayal. How he would protect me when I was a child, how he comforted me any chance he got in the months after our father’s death. I didnt understand why he had become so cruel, but I did know that there had to be part of him that was still kind. Jackson wrapped his powerful fingers around my chin. He was so strong now. He stared into my soul, his gaze seductive. War had changed him irrevocably. He was no longer sweet and small, nor would he ever be again. My eyelids drooped a bit and I lifted my chin towards him ever so slightly. The kindness that was once so plain in him had dried up like an abandoned well. He had become a lust-driven, deviously plotting snake of a man.
The stranger that my Jackson had become made up his mind and closed the distance between us. My own brother kissed me like a street whore, his tongue probing and his lips hot and sweet against my own.
But in that forbidden embrace, a hint of tenderness remained. I had to search for that trace of who he used to be. I closed the door behind me.
“Jack-” I broke the kiss, only for the impossibly strong man before me to slam my small body against the door I had just shut. I let out a small whimper, just a piece of the sheer, heart-pounding desire that I struggled to keep hidden.
“I knew you wanted me from the moment I walked in the front door, baby sister,” he purred, millimeters from my lips. His hands wound around my waist, expertly untying the back of my nightgown as if he had done the exact same thing a thousand times before.
“Jack, stop-” he had my arms pinned behind me with one hand as he pulled the front of dress down to my waist. “It was only a matter of getting you to cone to my room…” he finished removing the dress, leaving only a layer of sheer silk to protect my over heated body against the cold of the night air and my ravenous brother.
“I only wanted to speak with you-” I gasped, unable to control my shock as his tender mouth found the sweet pulse in my neck.
“I’m certainly not preventing you from making whatever noise you like.” The silk cover seemed to slip off of it’s own accord at his dangerously twisting words. The cold air lit my skin on fire, Jackson’s wandering mouth only stoking the flame.
As his tongue pulled the hardened peak of a nipple into his mouth, I let loose a quiet moan. I put a hand on his head, with full intent of pulling him off me. Instead, I merely sank my fingers into his raven hair and arched my chest closer to unbearably wonderful mouth.
I knew the kind of man that my brother had become. I saw them on the street every day, making lewd comments and staring at women when they thought only their friends could hear. Never did I once think I would be at the mercy of one if these men, much less beg for their touch. But there I was. In a single moment, I had resigned myself to being my brother’s toy. And all it had taken was a single swift movement of his tongue.

This story is unfinished! If you comment an idea I like, it might end up in the final draft (with your name as credit of course). Ask to pm first please!

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/g993t0/jackson_mfincest_bshistorical