Page 23

TWENTY-THREE

SABLE

K ai’s eyes darken to an impossibly deep shade of obsidian, the kind of black that seems to absorb all light.

His fingers tighten around my throat just enough to make my pulse thrum wildly beneath his touch, an intoxicating mixture of control and desire rippling through me. I can feel my body reacting instantly—my skin prickling with anticipation, my pussy clenching as I anticipate his next move.

A wicked smile curls across his lips.

“I am going to ruin you, mahal,” he growls, his voice deep and menacing. It’s the last thing I hear before his lips crash into mine with a force that steals the breath from my lungs.

The kiss is a storm—furious, relentless, and all-consuming. His mouth devours mine with a hunger that sets my skin ablaze, and I find myself lost in it, surrendering to the tidal wave of passion that sweeps through me. The world around us blurs, fading into the background as Kai’s presence becomes the only thing I can focus on. Before I even realize it, my body bounces lightly against the mattress of his bed, his movements seamless and controlled, heightening the anticipation building low in my belly.

He pulls the hoodie over my head, leaving me in nothing but my small black thong. His eyes are dark, ravenous, as they drink me in. His head lowers, his hot breath fanning across my bare skin, sending goosebumps racing along my arms. His lips close around my nipple, and he sucks hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh just enough to drive me crazy. My back arches off the bed, my hands flying to his hair, tugging as I writhe beneath him.

I reach for his shirt, my hands trembling with the need to feel his skin against mine. With a deep chuckle, Kai obliges, shrugging off his shirt to reveal a canvas of intricate tattoos inked across his muscular chest and arms. My fingers trace the dark lines of ink over his olive skin, exploring the patterns that map his body as he continues to ravish me, his mouth moving from one breast to the other, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“Please, fuck me, Kai. I need you.” I moan, my body alive under his touch. His hands trail lower, and I hear the sound of his zipper as he shimmies out of his pants, never once breaking contact with me.

Silas fucks with determination and domination.

Dayton fucks with passion.

Kai seeks to leave his mark with every touch.

“I’ll fuck you. On one condition, mahal.” His fingers trace a path down my abdomen, dipping lower until they circle my clit. I gasp, my hips lifting off the bed as he teases me, his touch deliberate and torturously slow. “I want to hear every moan, every scream as I ruin you from the inside out.”

My body trembles with need, unable to form words. All I can do is moan in response, my entire being consumed by the overwhelming desire for Kai. But as he lines himself up with my entrance, his cock pressing hot and hard against me, a sudden wave of uncertainty hits. He’s bigger —bigger than Silas and Dayton—and the thought of him fitting inside me sends a jolt of fear through me.

I bite my lip, glancing up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Kai,” I whisper, my voice small, “I... I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“Shh, mahal,” he murmurs. “It’ll fit. I’ll make sure of it.”

My heart races as he positions himself at my entrance again, his cock nudging against my slick folds, teasing the sensitive nerves there. Slowly, he pushes in, stretching me inch by inch. The burn is immediate, and I gasp, my body tensing up.

Kai stills, his hand coming up to cup my face as he looks down at me. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his tone softer now, guiding me through it. “You’re doing so good. Just breathe for me.”

I take a shaky breath, my eyes locking onto his as I try to relax, but the feeling of him filling me so completely is intense. It’s too much—almost too much—and I whimper, my hands instinctively flying to his chest to push him away.

“I can’t... It’s too much,” I pant, my breath coming out in shallow gasps.

He leans in closer, his forehead resting against mine. “You can, mahal. I know you can take it. You’re mine, remember? I’m going to make you feel so good.”

I nod weakly, trusting him even though the pressure and stretch feel impossible. He inches in further, his cock throbbing inside me as my body slowly adjusts to his size. I feel so full, so stretched, and yet, I crave more of him. His lips press softly against mine.

“Do you feel that?” he whispers against my lips. “How your body’s opening up for me? Stretching so beautifully around my cock.”

I arch my back, moaning softly as he pushes in deeper. Slowly, so slowly, until his pelvis finally meets my thighs, and he’s fully inside me. The sensation is overwhelming—every inch of him filling me so completely that I feel like I might break.

“Goddamn,” Kai groans, his voice thick with desire as he finally bottoms out, his chest rising and falling with the effort it takes to stay in control.

I’m trembling beneath him, my nails digging into his skin as I cling to him, trying to adjust to the intense fullness. The initial pain begins to subside, replaced by a deep ache that pulses with need. I shift my hips slightly, testing the feel of him inside me, and a soft moan escapes my lips.

“Kai,” I pant, my voice shaking. “Please... fuck me.”

His gaze darkens at my plea, and without another word, he begins to move. His first thrust is slow, as if giving me time to feel every inch of him pulling out and sliding back in. I gasp, my body responding immediately, the pressure and friction driving me wild.

“You see, mahal?” he rasps, his voice a growl now. “You’re so good at taking me, like your body knows it belongs to me.”

He picks up the pace, each thrust deep and unrelenting. The way he fills me, stretches me, leaves me breathless, and I can do nothing but moan and writhe beneath him, lost in the feeling of being completely and utterly claimed. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans in approval, his grip on my hips tightening as he pounds into me harder.

“You feel so fucking good.”

His thumb finds my clit, rubbing in slow, torturous circles that send shocks of pleasure shooting through me. “Look at me while I ruin you. I want to see every moment you fall apart for me.”

I cry out, my body trembling as I teeter on the edge of release, my nails digging into his back. His cock fills me so perfectly, his thrusts deep and powerful.

“Come for me,” Kai growls, his thumb pressing harder against my clit. “I want to feel you come around my cock, mahal.”

And with that, I break. My orgasm crashes over me in a wave of pure, blinding ecstasy, my body convulsing as I scream his name. My walls tighten around him, and Kai lets out a low, guttural groan as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate.

He doesn’t let up until I’m trembling beneath him, completely spent, and even then, he keeps going—pushing deeper, harder, chasing his own release. His fingers tighten around my throat again, prickles of black cloud on the corner of my vision.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he growls, his thrusts erratic now. “You’ll be dripping with me for days.”

His words send another wave of heat through me, and I moan, my body already spent but wanting more. His thrusts become frenzied, each one harder, faster, more desperate as he chases his own release.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groans. His grip on my wrists tightens as he chases his release, and I can feel the tension building within him. “So fucking… perfect.”

With a final, shuddering thrust, Kai stills, his body trembling as he spills into me. The warmth of his release fills me, his groan of satisfaction vibrating against my skin.

Kai collapses on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, our bodies still connected, our breaths mingling. Slowly, he releases my wrists, his fingers trailing lazy patterns on my skin.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs against my dewy skin.

I nod, too exhausted to speak, my body completely spent. He shifts, rolling onto his side and pulling me close, his arms wrapping around me protectively.

“We’re not done with you yet, mahal,” he whispers.

I want to ask what he means, but the warmth of his body against mine, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back, lulls me into a state of peaceful drowsiness. I feel safe in his arms, and as my eyes flutter closed, I can’t help but smile.

As sleep begins to claim me, I hear Kai’s soft timbre. “Sleep, mahal. You’ll need it.”

With his words, the last of my tension melts away. I close my eyes, letting the darkness envelop me, knowing that, in Kai’s arms, I am safe.

Dayton’s arm drapes across my shoulder possessively as he walks me to class, a routine we’ve settled into over the past week. His touch feels almost like a claim, a silent reminder that I’m his, at least for the moment. The arrangement between all of us has somehow fallen into an unspoken rhythm. I alternate nights between his room and Kai’s, though sometimes Dayton guilts Kai into climbing into bed with us. Kai often obliges, provided Levi isn’t in one of his temperamental moods.

I’m pretty sure Levi doesn’t like me.

He tenses up like a stiff board whenever I try to talk to him and always finds an excuse to leave the room if we’re alone together. He spends a lot of time playing the piano. I often hear the same few melodies for hours as he tries to perfect them. It reminds me of my own struggle with my ballerina canvas, which now gathers dust in their attic. One day, I’ll gather the nerve to finish it—hopefully before the project’s due date.

He stops just in front of the lecture hall doors, his hand lingering on my waist, holding me closer than usual. His class doesn’t start for another half hour, but it’s clear he’s reluctant to leave. The playful, carefree side of Dayton seems to vanish when we’re alone, replaced by a softer, more possessive edge.

“You can wait for me, or I can text one of the guys to come get you,” he says, his voice soft.

I roll my eyes playfully. “I think I can manage myself, thanks. Kai’s busy today, so I’ll just wait.”

He smirks, his hand caressing the side of my face before pulling me into a kiss. The hallway is crowded with students rushing to their own classes, but neither of us care. His lips move against mine, the kiss deepening as his hand slides up to tangle in my hair. His hard cock presses against me through his jeans as he sucks my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging just enough to elicit a small gasp from my throat.

He giggles at my reaction, letting me go, but not before adjusting himself discreetly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Have fun, babygirl,” he whispers against my lips.

“Mhmm,” I mumble, still flushed from the kiss as he saunters away, his usual cocky stride drawing a few glances from nearby girls.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart, but the blush on my cheeks lingers as I step into the classroom. It’s a large, cavernous auditorium, rows of wooden desks arranged in a tiered semi-circle that faces the front of the room. The walls are lined with worn chalkboards, remnants of earlier classes still faintly visible in the dusty residue. The lectern stands at the center, waiting for the professor’s arrival.

Last week, we were assigned to groups for a project, and I was paired with a girl named Gretchen. Today, I find her sitting near the middle of the auditorium. Her sweater is draped neatly over the back of her chair, revealing her dark skin peeking past her sleeveless blouse. She turns her head, the small jewels attached to her long braids clicking softly against the desk as her eyes scan the room. I approach her, and her smile stiffens just enough for me to notice.

“Hey, Gretchen,” I say, sliding into the seat beside her. Her gaze flickers briefly over my outfit—a simple sweater and leggings, nothing particularly noteworthy—but there’s a flash of judgment in her eyes.

“Hi, Sable,” she replies, her tone polite but cool.

She quickly turns back to her conversation with the boy sitting on her other side. I think his name is Jason—just your typical tall dude with messy blond hair. He taps his pencil against his sketch pad, scribbling notes while Clara, a petite girl sitting in front of us, spouts off ideas to him. Clara’s voice is energetic and rapid-fire, like she’s rehearsed every line.

Clara’s eyes meet mine, then start to narrow. “You’re Sable, right?”

I nod, taking in the details of her perfectly curated collection of earrings that litter her earlobe.

“So, you’re with The Horsemen ?”

My heart skips a beat. The guys had told me the nickname started as a joke—just a nod to the fact that there were four of them. Like a dynamic duo or the three musketeers. But the nickname stuck. Over time, it turned into something more—an identity, a reputation. They are a force on campus, commanding attention wherever they go. Walking around with even one of them draws eyes. Walking with all four? I can’t imagine the weight of that spotlight.

They aren’t nice guys.

They are powerful men, and those around here know what they are capable of.

I’ve lived with them for a month and I think people just now started picking up on it. Also, doesn’t help Dayton’s need to claim me any chance he gets.

I bite my bottom lip, considering how to respond. “Our families are friends. I’m just staying with them until this murder shit blows over.” I shrug, keeping my voice light. “It’s nothing serious. My mother is just very protective.”

Gretchen’s lip presses into a thin like, but then nods. “Right. The murder ‘shit.’”

From behind us, a voice pipes up, catching me off guard. Mark, a gregarious student with dark curly hair who I’ve seen around campus, leans forward.

“So, is it true?”

“Is what true?” My eyebrow lifts.

“Do they all, like... fuck you?”

I scoff, disgusted by the bluntness of his question. “No. And ew. I don’t even know you.” My cheeks flush, not with embarrassment, but with anger.

Mark shrugs, unbothered by my reaction, and leans back in his seat. “Well, I hope you know them. Considering the cops think Levi is responsible for the murders.”

“What?” Gretchen’s eyes widen in surprise. “Are you serious?”

Mark nods, his expression grim. “Yeah, there’s been talk around campus. Apparently, they’ve got some evidence, but nothing concrete yet. Crazy, right?”

I shake my head, adamant in my disbelief. “No. Levi didn’t do anything.” But despite my firm words, a small seed of doubt plants itself in my mind. Levi’s always been distant, withdrawn into his music and his thoughts. Could there be more to his solitude than I’ve realized? The mere thought twists my stomach, but I shove it aside. It can’t be true. It just can’t.

The professor enters the room, and the hum of conversations quickly dies down. I force myself to focus on the lecture, making notes on my tablet as he drones on about historical timelines and sociopolitical movements. But my mind keeps circling back to the conversation.

If any of the guys were involved in the murders, they wouldn’t be protecting me. They wouldn’t need to have me stay at The Manor if they were the threat. Unless... What if protecting me was part of their cover?

My thoughts spiral, and I glance at Gretchen, who is diligently taking notes beside me, her brow furrowed in concentration. Jason is scribbling something that looks more like art than lecture notes. I try to focus, but the words on the screen blur.

My mind, however, keeps drifting back to the conversation before class. The mention of Levi and the accusations—unsubstantiated rumors, surely. Levi may be aloof and enigmatic, but he’s not capable of murder. At least, that’s what I want to believe.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mark leaning forward again, whispering something to Clara. Their eyes flick toward me intermittently, and I can feel the paranoia creeping in. Are they still talking about me? About Levi? The rumors?

Gretchen suddenly turns toward me, her voice a soft whisper. “You okay?”

I force a smile, sitting up straighter in my seat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

She gives me a slow nod, studying me for a moment before leaning in closer. “It must be tough, pleasing all of them.”

The words hit me like a slap. “Pleasing them?”

“Everyone knows the frat officers love their house girls. Omega Chi picked theirs already this year.”

House girls?

Is that what Mark was talking about with them? Sharing me? I know that they shared Victoria, but Silas made it seem like it was a one-off thing. Is that something that these frats like to do?

“They don’t share me. I’m not the house girl,” I insist, trying to keep my voice steady. “I grew up with Silas. He was just worried about me.”

Mark, who has clearly been eavesdropping, turns around with a smug grin. “So, I didn’t see Dayton Hughes sucking your face before class?”

The heat rises in my cheeks, and my heart pounds uncomfortably loud in my chest.

Gretchen leans closer, her voice low and urgent. “Listen, Sable, I heard some things. You need to be careful. Their last girl, Victoria, ended up in the hospital a few days ago. Seventy-two-hour psych hold.”

My breath catches. “What are you saying?” I ask, hesitantly, unsure if I really want the answer.

Gretchen’s expression tightens. “Just watch yourself. They have a way of discarding things when they go bad.”

“Thanks,” I manage to say, my voice tight with unease. “I’ll... keep that in mind.”

The instant the professor dismisses us, I bolt, not bothering to look back or say goodbye to Gretchen and her friends. The lecture had left me with more questions than answers, and Gretchen’s warning about Victoria being hospitalized was still replaying in my head. The last thing I need is more rumors piling up, especially ones that hit this close to home.

Dayton’s class doesn’t get out for another hour, but I’m not waiting for him. I manage to make my way back to The Manor, my pace quickening with each step. It’s broad daylight, so if any of them complain about me walking back alone, I’ll smack the shit out of them.

I reach for the handle of the large wooden door. It swings open from the other side.

Silas is standing there, eyes widening in surprise. He’s dressed for a workout, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. His sleeve tattoo peeks out from under his fitted shirt, stopping just at his wrist, and in his hand, he’s holding a protein shaker filled with some neon liquid—probably pre-workout..

“Hey,” he says, his voice tentative, as if unsure whether I’ll bite his head off or not.

Silas has made a point to avoid me whenever possible lately, and honestly, it’s been a relief. After everything that happened, the last thing I wanted was to see his face. His presence reminds me too much of all the tangled emotions I’ve tried to suppress. Still, standing this close to him, it’s hard not to notice how infuriatingly attractive he is. He has that rugged edge, all chiseled jaw and brooding eyes. His very presence screams power, and it pisses me off how much my body still responds to him.

“Didn’t expect you back from class so soon,” he continues, stepping aside to let me in. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, brushing past him. “Just didn’t feel like waiting around for Dayton.” I keep my eyes down, unwilling to meet his gaze. It’s easier to stay mad at him when I’m not staring directly at those intense, dark eyes.

Silas doesn’t move, his gaze still on me as he closes the door behind us. “You’re agitated,” he says, cutting through my nonchalant act like it’s nothing. His ability to read me so easily is just one more thing that annoys me about him.

“And not at you for a change. Wow. Are you jealous?”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

His lip quirks, as if he expected that response. He shifts the gym bag on his shoulder, looking down at the shaker in his hand for a moment before glancing back at me. “Want to come to the gym with me and punch something until you forget about it?”

I blink, caught off guard by the offer. Silas has always been the ‘fix it with brute force’ type, and right now, I’m not above taking him up on that. The pent-up frustration boiling inside me needs an outlet, and the idea of taking it out on something—anything—sounds way too appealing.

“Fuck yes,” I finally respond, surprising both of us with how eager I sound.

A grin spreads across his face, not smug, but genuinely pleased. “Let’s go then.”