Page 11

Chapter 10

Trey

After weeks of being forced to share the ice, locker room, and hockey house, the Devils are finally backing off. They’re bored of me now that I’m not giving them more reasons to target me. Juliet is plenty to keep me busy.

Halfway through practice, my father perches in the bleachers behind the puck bunnies, making them giggle.

Why the hell is he here? Did he find that fucking thumb? He couldn’t have found it buried under all that meat.

My grip on my stick tightens, and Vanderbilt shoulder-checks me from behind, nearly knocking me off my feet.

So much for backing off.

Rockefeller flies toward me, and I brace myself for impact, but he doesn’t make contact. He screeches to a halt before a collision. “Don’t let him throw you off your game.”

“I didn’t.” I’m ready to snap my stick across my knee. “He came out of nowhere.”

“Not Vanderbilt.” He nods to the bleachers. “Him. You’re a good player when your dad’s not around. When he’s here, you’re fumbling, missing shots, letting the puck fly right past you. Don’t let him get in your head.”

“Yeah.” I grit my teeth, heading for the locker room when Coach blows the whistle. Easier said than done. If I could keep my father out of my head, I would. Out of my whole fucking life.

My entire existence has revolved around appeasing him. Being the son he commands me to be to avoid the repercussions of being anything less. Trying to predict his moods, avoid what might set him off. When I was a kid, my life and my mother’s revolved around him. He was the sun, and he made sure we knew we were lucky to orbit him.

Part of me wishes Juliet was here in the locker room waiting for me. Puck bunnies are a regular feature—on their knees, spread open on the sinks, in the showers. Nothing is better than a post-practice gang bang when the blood, testosterone, and adrenaline are still pumping.

But for the first time, the thought of sharing a girl has my jaw clenching.

Cold water shoots across my face, taming the semi forming at the thought of Juliet on her knees in here, waiting with her mouth open and tongue out for me. Upright and bent at the waist, ass on display and spread for the taking.

By the lockers, the team shouts to each other and talks shit, riled up from practice. Even worse after a game. As soon as I’m through the door, I try to sneak out without my father noticing me, but I should know better by now. There’s no getting anything past him.

“Heard you made captain.” His hand lands on my shoulder, and his smile is just for show as we head out the door.

My teeth clench. Like he’s not the one who blackmailed Coach into giving me the position. Pissed off most of the team, especially Valentine. All of them deserve it more—work harder, care way more about our time on the ice, but I got the spot they wanted. That I don’t give a shit about. “Funny how that worked out.”

He glances around us before shoving my shoulder. Shit . He knows. He knows about the thumb and my plans. “Where the hell were you on Friday?”

My brain scrambles. Friday? Where was I supposed to be on Friday? “Probably on the ice or in the gym. Or getting shitfaced at a party. Memory’s a little foggy. You can understand.”

Father takes a dangerous step closer, voice dropping when a few of the Devils burst out of the door, laughing and shouting to one another. “So you weren’t at a carnival the same night a man was killed by one of those masked carnival workers? You wouldn’t know anything about that?”

My spine stiffens. The flashing lights and laughter at the carnival, her back to me as she moved like a shadow in a bloody white dress toward the couple fucking in the maze of mirrors, his screams mixing with those echoing through the House of Horrors as she brought that axe between his legs, the decapitated head she tossed into the corridor, leaving what remained of his corpse to bleed out on the floor. A mask shielding her identity from anyone who might’ve noticed her. Spotting me, the only witness, before she fled. Fucking her against my bike, adrenaline and lust pumping through our veins as we chased our pleasure with each other’s bodies.

How the fuck did he find out about my little trip? I should’ve known it would only be a matter of time. Somehow, he always uncovers every secret eventually. “Nope. Hadn’t heard about it. Don’t exactly keep up with the news. Sucks, though.”

Craig’s girlfriend has been interviewed by police and media multiple times since she reported finding his body, all too happy to be in the spotlight while her scummy boyfriend’s body rots.

She was so drunk that night, though, her memories are shaky. First, she was certain the masked carnival worker was wearing a wedding veil, and then in her next recollection, the culprit was a witch. Then a zombie or maybe it was a vampire. Her testimony is shoddy at best, and the police have interviewed all of the workers who were on the clock that night, but none of their fingerprints or DNA match what the police found on the body.

Luckily, the media has been more interested in the gory details of his murder— severed head, missing thumb, mutilated genitals —and his fall from grace as a married, churchgoing man who was having an affair with a college student before his untimely death.

And without any leads, the police are facing down a cold case.

Unless my father gives them some ammunition.

How the fuck he would manage to scrounge any up would be a mystery to me, but I wouldn’t put it past him.

“Hey, Mr. Lamont!” Rockefeller shouts, cheeks still flushed as he saunters past with Vanderbilt, Valentine, and Ashby. “How’s it going?”

Father flashes his best winning smile. All the Devils love him. So do all the puck bunnies. If they only knew. “Great, Rockefeller. How ’bout yourself?”

Rockefeller beams. “Living the dream.”

Jesus, he’s insufferable.

Father’s smile is forced when he turns his attention back on me. “Your priorities are hockey and class. Don’t come home until you graduate. Got me?”

“What about winter break, Papa? We’re not going to celebrate the holidays together?”

He scowls at my sarcasm and turns on his heel to head back to his Rolls-Royce. “I’ll be in Dubai, and I’m certain you’ll be on some beach with your parade of puck bunnies.”

At my age, that’s where he would’ve been. He never wanted a son—he wanted a clone.

I didn’t mention the carnival to him when we ran into each other on the island. I turned off all the GPS shit on my phone. So how did he track my location?

My pulse starts to pick up speed. I’m not the only one hiding shit.

“Why would you think I was there?” I call after him. “At the carnival.”

He pauses with his hand on the door handle, his flat brows and pursed lips giving nothing away. “Stay out of trouble, Trey.”

For a few seconds, I wonder where the fuck I am and what the fuck is wrong with me.

Mouth dry, limbs weak, spine stiff. Above me is my bedroom ceiling. I’m at the hockey house, the soft sheet of my bed beneath me, long overdue for a wash. But this is more than the usual fatigue and soreness from hockey.

Something’s wrong.

“Oh, good. You’re finally awake.” A figure saunters to the edge of my bed, dark leather clinging to her every mouthwatering curve. She’s wearing my mask.

My cock twitches, and an unfamiliar twinge makes my eyes nearly bug out of my head. I’m naked, and beneath my torso, something glints in the darkness?—

“You pierced my fucking cock?”

“I did it while you were unconscious. I told you I would get my revenge.” Even beneath the mask, I can hear her smirk. Juliet’s finger glides up my shaft, making blood pump to my cock and an ache build in my balls. She stops at the piercing, tracing it. “This is for me.”

I jerk, ready to get my hands on her and show her that every inch of her is for me , but my wrists strain against scratchy rope. She’s tied down my wrists and ankles, just like I did to her that night after the Sigma Chi party. She must’ve drugged me somehow too.

She said she’d get her revenge. I was an idiot to think she wouldn’t find some way to one-up the tattoos on her arm and ass. She pierced my fucking cock. Jesus . At least I’ll make her scream with it.

“Get this shit off me.” I jerk at the ropes again, but I hardly budge.

She doesn’t obey me, which only fuels my rage. I fight against the restraints, accomplishing nothing more than rubbing my skin raw and tiring my already drained limbs.

Juliet hums and finds my knife in the pocket of my jeans she picks up off the floor. She flips the knife open and trails the dull edge up my thigh, goosebumps springing up in its wake.

She’s going to cut me, make me bleed. Who knows what else. My little demon is capable of much worse than I ever expected.

I love that about her.

My heart thuds, and a smile crawls across my lips. “Do your worst, demon.”

“Trust me, devil,” she purrs. “I will.”

“I’ll enjoy giving you your punishment for this.”

She snorts. “So funny you still believe you’re the one in control.”

But I never have been. Not with her. Since that night at the haunt, even when I was the one chasing her and pinning her down, she’s been the one in control. Controlling my cock, my mind. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Dreaming about her. Following her. She consumes my every waking thought.

“What are you going to do with me?” I taunt. “Come all over my cock?”

“Maybe.” She shrugs, and the rage boils again at the possibility of her leaving me like this, aching and needing to come. The knife trails up to the sensitive skin above my pelvis. I bite back a groan. “Maybe I’ll untie you if you give me what I want.”

“Anything.” I gasp out the word, fighting against my need to be inside her.

Her little laugh behind the mask is music to my ears. “Such a needy boy.” She flicks my cock, making me yelp, and I try to break out of my restraints again. Useless. “Why did you pull me out of the corn maze that night? Why me?”

Though she saunters around campus with a strut in her step, a vulnerability softens her words. She’s not used to being the girl who gets chosen. Not anymore. Not after those monsters forced her to hide beneath a hard shell, to gnash her teeth and claw at anyone who dared to get too close.

“Overheard the Devils talking about how you couldn’t be scared. That you wanted to be. I knew if those idiots couldn’t do it, I could.” I grin, wishing she’d take off that damn mask so I could see her pretty face. Study those gorgeous blue eyes and never take my gaze off them. “I had no idea how much you’d like it.”

At the innuendo, she trails the knife down to my thigh, the blade biting into the skin there. I hiss through my teeth, beads of blood rising to the surface beneath the sharp edge.

“Why did you say I was the one you’d been searching for?” With the flat edge of the blade, she skims back up, over my tensed abdomen and up to my collarbone. My pulse hammers harder with every inch.

How could I not? She grinned when I told her to run, told me if I caught her, I’d fuck her. Let me dry-hump her in the haystacks and whispered sweet nothings in my ear about how she wanted to be chased and fucked by a masked man in the dark, wanted to be asleep and taken advantage of, held at knifepoint and taken against her will, cut before the blood was licked off her skin.

Those were her fantasies, and she was mine.

Now that I’ve managed to get my hands on her again and again, she’s better than I ever imagined. I fight against my restraints, needing to touch her. “You told me all your darkest fantasies. Every depraved, unhinged thing you wanted me to do to you. I knew my girl would love the pain. The fight. We were made for each other.”

She goes quiet, trailing the blade over me gently. Letting my words sink in. With every silent second that ticks past, the panic bubbles that this dark, twisted passion is one-sided. With the panic comes a simmering fury. I can’t be the only one who knows how perfect we are together. I won’t let her believe anything less.

“Take the mask off.” To my surprise, she obeys my command, the pressure from the knife never lifting as she discards the mask and drops it to the floor.

Her cheeks are flushed a soft pink, the piercings in her brow and nose glimmering. Those striking blue eyes combing over every inch of me like I’m the devil from her dreams. “You saw what I did at that carnival. I have much worse planned for the rest of them. You don’t want to be made for someone like me.”

Frustration builds in my limbs. She actually believes that. Believes someone as beautiful and twisted and brilliant and scarred as she is couldn’t possibly be someone worth wanting. “You’ve seen a fraction of what I’m capable of, little demon. If either of us is broken beyond repair, it’s me. But you don’t have a choice in the matter now. I’ve found you, and you’re mine. I’m never letting you go.”

“You’d have to catch me first.” A coy smile plays on those delicious lips. I’m going to devour them.

“As soon as I break out of this little trap,” I grind out, “I will.”

Her laugh makes more blood pump to my erection. So hard it’s nearly painful. A reminder of the fresh piercing, the skin at my tip still red and swollen. “Good luck, devil.”

“Since you pierced my cock, I’ll pierce your tongue. Can’t wait to feel that when I’m fucking your mouth.”

Without a word of retort, she presses down with the knife on my chest, and the pain is red-hot this time.

I try to flinch away from her but can’t get anywhere. “ Fuck .”

She’s fucking crazy. Psychotic. Unpredictable.

She thinks that’s enough to make me run. She has no clue that only makes me want her more. Makes me more convinced how right we are for each other.

“Finally, a woman insane enough for me,” I pant as she cuts down, a little curve to the tail at the end. A J for Juliet. “Carve your whole name into me. I hope it doesn’t heal. I hope I’m scarred with your name forever.”

My little demon shakes her head. “You’re nuts.”

I grin. “That’s why you’re crazy about me.”

She turns and drops the knife shiny with my blood back on the desk. My chest twinges with disappointment. The pain made me come to life. Connected me to her in a way only two dark, scarred souls could be.

“I told you everything you wanted to know. Now untie me.”

She tsks, a smile sliding across her face. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Juliet slowly shakes off the leather jacket, revealing a leather corset barely containing her incredible tits. My wrists strain against the rope, my palms aching to grab them and squeeze. To twist her nipples until she cries out as I slam inside her.

Next to go are the skin-tight pants. When she’s down to her corset and panties, she grabs the knife and climbs onto the bed, swinging a leg over me and settling onto my lap. Between her legs, my cock jerks, the warmth of her pussy through her panties enough to drive me wild.

She leans down, still grinning, and I’m not sure which I’d rather stare at—her face or her tits—until her mouth gets dangerously close to mine.

I turn my head, and she freezes, smile slipping away. “What?—”

“I don’t kiss.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

With my mask, the issue hasn’t come up before. “It’s pointless. It does nothing for me.”

“It’s because of her. Isn’t it?” The Dominatrix persona slips away to reveal the softer part of Juliet, layers beneath her hard shell. The part she doesn’t like to show to anyone.

I’ve confessed too much to her now. She can sense my lies just as well as I can sense hers. “Yes. She’d make me kiss her.”

Every time a girl has kissed me since, the memory of Rachel’s slimy lipstick smearing across my lips has turned my stomach. Now the only place I want a girl’s lips is around my cock.

Before, most girls whined when I refused to kiss them, but Juliet doesn’t say another word. She only nods, straightening and planting her hands on my chest, the cool metal of the blade pressing against my skin as she continues to clutch the knife. What other plans does she have for that fucking thing? Before I can ask, she grinds her pussy over my shaft, careful to avoid the tip. I hiss through my teeth, wishing I could dig my fingers into her hips.

This, we both enjoy. This, we could do all day.

“Fuck,” she breathes. My little demon grinds her clit against me, tipping her head back as her eyes fall shut and small moans escape.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Use me. Just like I’ll use you. Come over and over on my cock.”

“I’m going to. I’m going to use you and leave you begging for more.”

“Make me beg then, baby.”

She’ll never make me beg for her, beg for anything. But I’ll love watching her try.

Once I can feel the dampness through her panties, she drops the knife on the bed beside us and strips out of the corset, tossing it to the floor. My mouth waters when her tits drop and swing in front of me. She gets on all fours like she’s materialized straight out of one of my wet dreams and pushes her tits in my face. “Suck.”

Even though I’m dying to obey her command, I can’t help but taunt her. “What happens if I don’t?”

The sting of the knifepoint digs into my arm, back in her palm. “You don’t want to find out.”

I bite back a laugh. It’s actually cute, watching her pretend she’s the dominant one here. Without another word of protest, I wrap my lips around her nipple and suck it into my mouth.

She groans, arching further into me and forcing me to suck her deeper. I lap at her sensitive skin. I want her soaking for me. Want my cock dripping as her pussy swallows me. Want her eyes bugging out when the tip hits her cervix and she’s still got more to take.

“Now the other one.” She’s already breathless.

I suck her other nipple, trying to lift my hips so I can grind against her, relieve the building ache, but her body is too high above me. Just out of reach. I growl and suck her nipple harder, making her gasp. “Ride my cock now .”

“I will,” she snaps. “When I’m ready.”

“You are ready. You’re dripping for me.”

“By the time I’m finished with your mouth, I better be.” She stands, the mattress shifting as she slides the panties down her legs and kicks them off.

She climbs back onto me, but instead of grinding against my cock this time, she slides up my body, leaving a trail of arousal up my torso. Getting me back for the night I let my cum dry on her. Too bad she has no idea how much I fucking love it.

When she finally reaches my chin, she stops. “I’m going to ride your face, and you’re going to make me come with that tongue, devil.”

“Then get the fuck up here, demon.”

She doesn’t hesitate. The next second, she’s planting her pussy on my mouth. She’s not gentle about it. Not self-conscious and timid the way most girls are. I’d laugh if her thighs and pussy weren’t suffocating me.

My tongue glides up her slit, the wetness already rubbing against my chin. Her moan is sharp as I hit her clit, flicking my tongue against it as her back arches and she rests her weight on me. Fuck, I never thought I could be this into a girl riding my face before.

I slide my tongue between her tight walls, groaning as her sweet taste floods my taste buds. She’s always so wet for me. Can’t hide the effect I have on her every time.

Her hips sway back and forth as her ass cheeks graze my chin. She rides my face like my tongue is her own personal sex toy. That’s it, baby. Ride my tongue. Get your orgasm and then give me mine .

Waiting to get my cock inside her is a worse punishment than when she was digging that knife into my flesh. I’d rather she cut the whole alphabet into my skin than make me wait another second to come inside her.

“Suck my clit.” She pops her pussy off my tongue, returning to drag that soft bud against it. “Make me come.”

I flick the tip of my tongue against her clit instead, soft grazes that make her jerk and cry out before she half-screams in frustration, fists striking the bed on either side of my head.

“Say please, pretty girl.”

“Do it.”

Another flick of my tongue has her gasping. “ Beg .”

Cool metal brushes against the bottom of my shaft. A warning bell chimes loud and clear in my ears.

“Do it or I’ll cut your cock off.”

“But you haven’t even fucked it with the new piercing yet.”

When there’s a slight sting on that sensitive underside, I hiss. “Careful, demon. You’re going to regret what I do to you after this if you keep that up.”

Before she can protest or do a hell of a lot worse, I suck her clit into my mouth. She drops the knife, letting out a sound that’s halfway between a sigh and a moan as she sinks into me. “That’s a good boy.”

I hate the nickname almost as much as it turns me on.

My fingers fumble over the mattress, searching for the discarded knife so I can cut myself loose and fuck her the way she deserves. But it’s nowhere in reach.

Her arousal drips down my chin, spilling over and sliding down my neck. Fuck me . How am I supposed to just lay here and not fuck her while she drenches my face? The knife was a prelude—this is the real torture.

“Mmm.” The sound rumbles from deep in my throat, making her quiver. She loves hearing how much I salivate over her, relish her. Nothing turns her on more.

She gasps. “ Yes . Don’t stop.”

Between my lips, her clit pulses. She grinds her pussy against my face harder, and with a gush of arousal, she cries out. She collapses against me, thighs shaking and clit pulsing as I keep sucking while the orgasm wracks through her.

I go hard at her pussy, devouring her and licking every inch until her cries turn to whimpers and the spasms of her pussy slow.

“Oh my god.” My little demon slides off my face, gasping when she spots the wetness coating my chin and neck. She caresses my cheek. Almost tender for a girl who just had a knife against my cock. “Good boy.”

“Let me fuck you now.” I hate how raspy the words come out. Horny and desperate to come. Desperate for her. Every inch.

Her long, dark hair with shocks of red sways as she shakes her head. “I think I’ll fuck you instead.”

My spine stiffens. Where the hell does she plan on sticking that knife?

But she keeps her hands flat on my torso as she glides down, her pussy rubbing against my shaft. Thank god.

“Sit on my dick, Juliet.”

She giggles. “I love making you beg.”

“I’m not begging,” I snap.

The taunting smile doesn’t leave her lips as she rocks back and forth, dragging her arousal over my cock until it’s slick and dripping like my neck. “You’re going to come in two seconds, aren’t you?”

“You’re going to wish I would after I’ve fucked you raw.” My words come out in a pant, heart thundering as my balls clench, needing her to slide my cock inside her pussy now. If she keeps grinding on me like that, I’ll bust before I’ve even gotten inside her. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

She rocks back just enough that her pussy is off my shaft. I bite back a whimper. Her nail glides up the wetness glistening on my cock, flicking the tip and the piercing, sending a bolt of electricity through me. “Fuck!”

“I think I’ll take my time up here. Go slow enough that I’ll get mine, but you won’t get yours.”

“Oh, I’ll get mine. Deep inside you. Your pussy will swallow every drop.”

“You need time to heal. Fucking too soon will hurt. Or you could get an infection, and then what use would you be to me?”

“I don’t give a fuck about the pain.” I watch with hot desperation, adrenaline pumping, as Juliet slowly grinds against my shaft. She bites her lip, eyes squeezing shut as a moan falls from her mouth.

Her wetness is magical against my shaft, but I need to be inside her. The edging turns to agony as her hips move faster, ass smacking as she rocks back and forth. My balls start to clench, the cum ready to burst out.

But my blood goes cold when she reaches for that damn knife again.

Humming an unhinged lullaby, she skims the dull edge of the knife up my torso and stops at my chest. Next to the J she’s already cut there.

“What the fuck are you doing, demon?”

“Having fun.” She moans, grinding against my cock faster, careful to avoid the piercing and swollen tip.

Despite the knife pressed against my chest, I can’t help but enjoy the way she rides me. Normally, I want to be the one on top, in full control. With everyone that’s come before her, watching a woman ride me has reminded me of those nights with Rachel. Brought those nightmares rushing back.

But not with Juliet.

“I’m giving you a tattoo just like you gave me.” She slices the blade over my skin, drawing a U .

My body jerks to get away, survival instincts kicking in. “Agh! Fuck .”

But I don’t tell her to stop. I don’t want her to. The pain mixing with the pleasure sends sparks through every cell in my body like I’ve never felt before. I can’t hold back anymore. I slam my hips up, desperate to get inside her no matter how bad it hurts.

Somehow, she keeps her hand steady, carving an L on my chest. I bite down hard on my lip to stop the pained groans from escaping, the taste of copper mixing with her arousal still coating my tongue.

When she slices an I into my skin, I hiss through my teeth, the blood dribbling down my chest.

Her moans mix with my groans, the slap of skin on skin, and the wet slide of her pussy against my cock, creating a beautiful, twisted symphony.

She carves the final letters. E and T . When she’s satisfied with her handiwork, she brings the knife to her lips, nicking one when she grazes the blade over them to taste my blood.

“You’re so fucked up,” I pant, the fear and pain and adrenaline and arousal all making my head spin. “I fucking love it.”

Her unhinged grin lights me up. “I know.”

She trails the handle of the blade down between her legs, rubbing it against her clit while she rocks her hips. Her head tips back, her moan nearly rattling my bones.

“Come for me, little demon. Let me feel it. Clench those tight, wet walls on my cock.”

But before she can obey my order to slide my cock inside her, she jerks forward, a cry ripping from her throat as her pussy spasms. Her thighs shake with the orgasm, and I keep grinding my cock against her, my own orgasm nearly to the brink. “ Trey .”

Normally, I don’t give a fuck hearing a girl moan my name. But her...

My chest squeezes pathetically, the echo of her crying out my name filling my head. Trey . Trey . Trey .

I’ll give anything to hear her call my name again.

My heart pounds, pleasure building as she unravels on top of me. I love how hard she comes with me. “Take my cock like my bad fucking girl.”

Juliet drops the knife, and it slips down onto the mattress, within reach. But I don’t try to grab it. Not yet.

Sweat coats my back as I continue thrusting my hips, desperate for the same release.

Her hands drop onto my chest as she pants, coming down from her orgasm. No . I need to come at the same time. Need to feel the pulses of her pussy while I shoot my load deep inside her.

“Okay,” she sighs. “I got mine.”

Then she slides off me, my throbbing, wet cock left cold without the friction from her body warming it. Wordlessly, she jumps down off the bed, reaching for her leather pants.

White-hot fury lances through me. “Get the fuck back over here. I’m not finished with you.”

She shrugs. “I’m finished with you. For tonight, anyway.”

I yank at the restraints, determined as fuck to get out of them now and fuck her as hard as I can. “ Juliet .”

“Ooh.” She cocks her pierced brow at me. “I like when you growl my name like that. Do it again.”

“Juliet!” Her name is a shout this time as I slam my fists against the mattress. “Get on my cock now or I promise you, you will fucking regret it.”

She slides her corset back on, the rage boiling over with every article of clothing that covers her up. “I’m doing this for your sake. You’ll thank me later.”

I grab for the knife and start to saw at the rope connecting my wrist to the bed. The second I’m off this mattress, she better run like hell.

She half-skips over to me, not giving a damn about my efforts to cut myself free, and plants a chaste kiss on my new piercing. “This was so fun. Bye-bye.”

I shout her name, raging and spitting as I saw at the rope and thrash in my restraints. But the door clicks shut behind her, and by the time I’m finally free, she’s gone.