Page 180

Story: Princes of Chaos

“How the hell did this happen?” she asks. Who let her back in the locker room?

“Gentle.”

Effie? I don’t remember coming home. I flex my fingers and feel the soft mattress underneath, not the clinic table.

“You’ve got an hour ‘til midnight and Wicker needs to make a deposit,” Lex’s voice is an urgent whisper, drawing me back to the surface.

“Like that?” She sounds horrified. “He’s seriously hurt—like should-be-in-a-hospital hurt.”

“The padding helped mitigate the damage,” Lex says. “His ribs are bruised, and his face is mangled but there’s no bone damage. He definitely has a concussion, so you’ll need to be gentle.”

“Gentle.”

When and how did I get home?

“Jesus, you just had to teach her new words.” There’s movement and the rustle of fabric, what I assume is Effie’s cage getting covered. “Look, Verity, this isn’t up for discussion. You have to acquire the deposit by midnight.”

“I can’t have sex with him like that,’ her voice is laced with a touch of distress. “He’s… unconscious. It would be unethical, especially after knowing what happened to him as a—”

“Shut up,” he hisses. “Don’ttalk about that. Princess, shit hit the fan tonight—catastrophically. I’m not asking you to rob a bank. I’m asking you to ride Whitaker Ashby’s dick.” He’s quiet. “Do you think he’d give you the same consideration if the roles were reversed?”

It’s a struggle to get my eyes open, and when I do it’s barely more than a slit, but I see Verity and Lex standing in the doorway. My brother has a pained, stressed expression on his face. He’s panicking. Pace? He’s probably already receiving his punishment.

“He’d fuck me,” she admits. “Zero hesitation.”

“Because he understands what’s on the line.”

“What exactly is on the line, Lex?” she asks, looking up at him. “What happens if we break the covenant? Is that what happened to your back? Is that from violating it?”

“No, actually, and that’s why you need to understand how serious this is. Those lashings were for fulfilling my duty, but not beingenough.” His hand thrusts through his hair. “So understand me when I say that you don’t want to experience the consequences. You need to climb on his cock and let him put a baby in you.”

Verity pales, lowering her head so her hair falls over her face like a curtain. Unable to hold them open any longer, my eyes flutter shut.

A moment later the mattress dips and the scent of roses fills my nostrils. Farther away, I hear Lex say, “Touch him. He won’t break.”

“He looks pretty broken to me.” The blanket lowers and I feel her take me in her hand. I regret the sharp intake of breath that follows, my ribs aching from the simple movement. Her hand feels good, soft, a sharp contrast to the needling pain coursing across my body, but even so…

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s not working. He’s too injured.”

The urge to laugh is squelched by the pain cinching around my body. Whitaker Ashby, too hurt to get it up.

She shifts and I feel her weight move closer to my ribs. Again, I manage to open my eyes in a small slit, seeing her red hair as brushes over my chest, my cheek.

“What are you doing?” Lex asks.

Her fingers graze my swollen skin, then something softer—warmer. “Kissing him.”

“You don’t get pregnant kissing.”

“Wicker likes kissing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he’s really good at it.”

Her lips are soft and cool against my overheated skin. She peppers them across the bridge of my nose, over my cheekbones and down to my mouth. My whole face aches, but she feels like a salve. She licks my lips and I part them, my cock twitching when our tongues meet.

“There we go,” she says, gripping my shaft. It’s not fully erect, but half a chub is better than no chub.

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