Page 71

If anyone can relate to their dick not following orders, it’s Lex. “We’ll wake you up,” he says, nodding.

“Thanks.”

I stare up at the ceiling as we all settle, and the irony strikes me. Verity is sleeping all alone in a bed meant for four people, and here the three of us are crammed into Lex’s shitty double. For all the Princess gig is a bit of a veneer, it’s essentially true. She’s protected, coddled in her big bed with her new wardrobe and special diet.

It’s bullshit.

“Do you ever think about what it’s going to be like?” I wonder, turning to glance at Lex. At his puzzled expression, I elaborate, “Having a kid. Becoming a dad.”

His face turns to stone. “No.”

“Me either.” That’s exactly why I was so shaken by her words before. They’re making it real. An inevitability–for one of us. I can’t wrap my mind around it, and I don’t fucking want to. None of us were meant to create.

We’re the creations.

“We’re the rats.”

“What?” Lex asks, brows knitting together.

“Nothing.” I shake my head, adjusting the pillow I’m sharing with Pace. “Just something you said to me once.”

Lex’s face grows pensive, like he’s trying to remember. He clearly doesn’t. “Rats are smart,” is all he has to offer.

Snorting, I reply, “You say that until a pack of rats spreads disease everywhere.”

“Mischief,” Pace mutters. He twists to peek one annoyed eye open at us. “Their collective noun. A group of rats is called a mischief.”

I laugh as Lex turns out the bedside lamp, thinking that nothing has ever been so fitting as this. “That’s us,” I say, the words twisting bitterly. “A mischief of Ashbys.”

As we settle in together, another comparison crosses my mind. I don’t express it out loud, but the idea burns into my mind, as deep as Pace’s brands on Bruce’s flesh. Rats also sleep together, nestled into the dark, secret, safe places.

14

Verity

“Look at me.”

I pry my eyes open to meet Lex’s gaze. I’m not sure why. Something about being strapped to this godforsaken exam table with my feet in the air makes me far too quick to follow his orders. Mostly, it’s his voice, though. Not hard or demanding, nor rough and sharp.

He makes the request quietly, as if some part of him believes it to be a favor.

When I grant it, he’s staring back at me with an expression more intense than I’m expecting. There’s a darkness in his eyes that makes me clench around the hard plastic as I feel his semen enter me, Lex’s thumb pushing the plunger.

Nothing about it is sexy or appealing. It’s cold, quiet, and too bright. Beneath the harsh lights of the medical room, Lex looks too sharp as he holds my eyes. It’s weird and uncomfortable, and there’s no reason such a procedure should make tingles erupt in my thighs.

But that’s what happens.

It’s not the syringe. It’s that he pulls it out, adjusting his latex gloves, and I know exactly what’s coming next. I wet my lips in preparation–in anticipation, more ready for this part than I ever want to admit.

“Does it hurt?” The fingers of one hand brush over my red knee as the fingers of Lex’s other hand push into my clit. “A painful reminder of my brother keeping you on your knees while you sucked him off?”

The pads of his fingers tease my inner thighs, the promise of an orgasm lulling my body into complacency. The medical room in the basement is cold, but that’s not what brings gooseflesh to my skin. It’s the way he watches me, those amber eyes analyzing my every twitch.

“Did you like the pain?” he wonders. Even though the question is pitched curiously, it’s still done in that deep, velvety voice that makes my stomach clench. “Did it make your cunt all slippery and wet?”

“No,” I say, but my body deceives me. Whimpering, my hips rise as much as they can with the straps holding me down. Something about the motion makes Lex’s jaw harden, his palm skating up my thigh to push the thin gown upward. I think I must feel alarmed somewhere in the back of my senses, but I can’t reach it, my teeth digging into my bottom lip as Lex exposes my belly, and then my waist, and then–

His amber eyes flick to my breasts as he bunches the gown above them, the tight knot of muscle in his jaw twitching. “Ah, yes. Look how hard your nipples are.” He gives one a sharp pinch and I cry out, head digging back into the exam table. “You do like it, don’t you? A little bit of pain complements your pleasure? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of girls are dirty, just like you.” I feel his eyes on me, studying my body, experimenting with different ways to bring me to the edge. I already feel my toes curling as he leans down to whisper into my ear. “You may be a virgin, but your body wants to be treated like a slut.”