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CHAPTER

EIGHT

CORTLAND

“Don’t talk, and I won’t make it hurt.” The man’s voice is low, almost soft, even though his words are not.

My fingers circle my cock, pumping myself as I keep my eyes on my laptop screen, leaning back in my chair.

My throat is tight as I think about Remi’s face beneath my hand last night.

Heat rushes through my body. I have my sweatpants pushed down, my shirt off.

Feeling nervous, I dart my gaze to my locked bedroom door.

Storm is here, and while I’ve got my headphones on so he can’t hear what I’m watching, I still feel some sick paranoia he’s going to catch me.

I know he probably watches worse, but even still…

I stroke myself faster, run my thumb over the bead of precum on the tip of my cock.

“Good girl,” the man is saying, slipping his hand between the girl’s thighs.

She’s whimpering, bent over a kitchen counter, looking over her shoulder at the man.

While she’s completely naked, he’s got his jeans shoved down, but his shirt is still on.

He’s wearing a burglar’s mask and he slips his fingers inside her pussy, murmuring about how wet she is.

Then he slides his fingers out and puts them to the girl’s mouth.

She presses her plump lips together, shaking her head slightly. Her acting is pretty convincing, but I see the slight smile on her lips.

The man knots her long, blonde hair in his hand, jerking her head back as his mouth comes over her ear. “Open your mouth or I’ll crack your fucking teeth.”

The girl’s eyes close, mascara tracking down her cheeks as she shivers. Seeming reluctant, her hands white knuckling the counter, she parts her lips, and the man groans, shoving his fingers into her mouth.

“Suck yourself,” he says against her ear.

I stroke myself faster as my muscles tense, my breath caught in my throat. He pushes his fingers further into her mouth and she gags, her eyes flying open.

They look golden brown.

Just like Remi’s.

At that thought, I close my eyes, leaning back in my leather chair as I get myself off imagining her underneath me that night. Her face pressed against the forest floor. Her little whimpers as I pushed myself into her.

I think about afterward, when I finished inside of her, stepped back and let everyone else take their turn. I could barely stand at that point, but I remember she was smiling up at me, her lips parted, a lock of blond hair over one eye.

“God, she’s fucking tight as hell,” Chase had said, and my dick had gotten hard all over again, watching her take it, her fingers clawed in the dirt as she stared at me. There was blood on my dick, and I remember I was happy I got to be her first.

I’d run my thumb over the blood, stepped around my friend fucking her from behind.

I’d squatted down next to her face, my eyes locked on her honey-colored ones.

They were glassy, and I remember thinking I needed to get her inside before both of us passed out. “Cortland,” she’d whispered, gasping as my friend thrust deep inside of her and we all laughed. That was what she wanted. “Don’t hurt me.” But it was a game we were playing. A dangerous fucking game.

“Be careful.” Those were Storm’s words, before we started. Low and quiet. I didn’t pay attention to them then. I didn’t know what he meant. Besides, he’d had her just like we all had.

“Don’t hurt me,” she’d whispered again.

“I’m not,” I’d promised her. “Just open your mouth, baby.” I’d leaned down close to her, pressed my lips to her brow. “I want you to taste what I did to you,” I had murmured against her skin.

And she had.

Her lips around my finger were warm and wet and…

I finish, biting my lip, catching my lip ring between my teeth as I do, tasting blood in my own mouth as I come, just like I did that night.

Because after she’d sucked my finger, I’d brushed my thumb over the blood still staining my dick and tasted her too.

The iron taste in my mouth always brings me back to that night. I think again about her face beneath my hand in the bathroom yesterday. Her biting my lip.

I can’t help but wonder, what brings her back?