Page 36 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)
MIRA
H is kiss destroys me, unraveling every shred of guilt and horror until all that’s left is a bone-deep, devastating need. Tears cascade down my cheeks, even as my best friend’s moans echo through the chamber, arousal floods through me like wildfire.
I’m fucked up. Completely, irrevocably fucked up.
Because I’ve never been this wet in my entire life.
The sounds surrounding us—flesh against flesh, desperate gasps, the wet slide of bodies joining—all combine into a symphony of debauchery that makes my core clench with need. Even Cora’s sharp cries as those three masked men use her... God help me. It turns me on.
Xavier’s hand slides down my side, fingertips burning against the silk before finding my thigh. He pushes my legs apart with commanding force, and his fingers discover exactly how wet I am.
“Fuck,” he groans against my mouth, his fingers sliding through the evidence of my arousal. “You’re fucking dripping for me.”
Shame and desire war within me as his fingers explore my soaked folds. How can I be turned on when my best friend is being violated yards away? What kind of monster does that make me?
Movement catches my eye, and I recognize the two masked men from earlier—the ones who’d performed while Xavier had me trapped in that first chamber. Julian as Xavier called the taller one is behind Elliot now, driving into him while Elliot’s mouth works stretchers around another hunter’s cock.
Watching Julian’s hips snap forward and seeing Elliot caught between two sources of pleasure makes my inner walls clench around nothing. Xavier’s fingers slide against me again, finding my clit, and a whimper escapes my throat.
“That’s it,” Xavier murmurs against my ear. “Stop pretending you don’t crave this darkness as much as the rest of us.”
His words terrify me because they’re true.
Despite everything—despite Cora, despite my mission, despite every moral I thought I possessed—I need more.
The depravity surrounding us only heightens my need, transforming me into someone I no longer recognize.
Torn between the ache in my heart and the need in my core.
Someone who gets off on watching her best friend being used by three men. Someone who drips with arousal while others perform acts of dominance and submission. Someone who belongs in Xavier Blackwood’s dark world.
The masked man with the brilliant blue mask catches Xavier’s attention with a sharp whistle, never breaking his brutal rhythm as he forces his cock deeper into Bianca’s throat. Her hands are bound behind her back, and mascara streams down her cheeks, painting delicate little black rivers.
“X!” the man calls out, his voice muffled by the mask, but commanding nonetheless. “Get your ass over here.”
Xavier’s grip on my waist tightens possessively. The fingers that were stroking me withdraw, leaving me aching.
“Stay close,” he growls in my ear.
He leads me across the opulent chamber, navigating around other displays of ravenous hedonism.
My bare feet sink into plush Persian rugs as we pass Keira, bent over an ornate chaise.
At the same time, two hunters take turns with her, and Lia is suspended in silk ropes as a masked man teases her with what looks like a riding crop.
When we reach Knox, I can see Bianca’s situation more clearly.
Her spirit, which I’d admired during our brief time together in the preparation room, has been completely stripped away.
Her hazel eyes are wide, whether from the sheer force of his penetration or genuine unwillingness, I can’t determine.
But her body remains still, accepting his brutal pace.
“What the fuck do you want?” Xavier demands, his tone sharp with authority and an inherent warning of violence.
Knox’s laugh is dark as he continues his assault on Bianca’s mouth. “Just thought you should see this little artist’s hidden talents. Turns out she’s got quite the throat on her.”
Xavier’s hand slides to the small of my back, pressing me closer to his side. I can feel the tension radiating from him, every muscle coiled. Whatever this interruption is about, he doesn’t appreciate being summoned like a common soldier.
“And?” Xavier’s single word drips with menace.
“Come on, X,” the blue-masked man continues, his voice carrying a familiar arrogance that makes my blood run cold. “I want to see you fuck your journalist. Give your brother a show.”
Xavier turns rigid beside me, his hand gripping my waist with bruising force. I sense the fury radiating from him in waves.
He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear. “Do you want to give everyone a good show, angel?” His voice is velvet. “Show them who you belong to?”
God help me, I do.
The words ring through my head with devastating clarity. The depravity surrounding us—Cora’s cries, Bianca’s muffled gasps, the wet sounds of bodies joining in every conceivable position—it all feeds the fire burning inside me.
“I...” I start, then stop, my voice catching as Xavier’s fingers find the edge of the silk wrapped around my thigh.
“Say it,” he commands, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me what you want.”
My gaze flickers to his brother, still using Bianca’s throat, then to the other pairs and groups scattered throughout the chamber. Everyone fucking, claiming, dominating. The air is thick with sex and power—the kind of depravity I thought I was investigating but never imagined I’d crave.
“Yes,” I whisper, the admission torn from somewhere deep inside me. “I want... I want you to show them.”
Xavier’s answering growl is animalistic, and I know I’ve crossed a line.
He spins me to face the room, my back pressed against his front. His hands move under his shirt and he pulls it over my head.
“Everyone stops,” he commands, his voice cutting through the symphony of moans and wet sounds. “Now.”
The authority in his tone is absolute. One by one, the hunters pause their activities, masked faces turning toward us. Even his brother releases Bianca’s throat, leaving her gasping and trembling on her knees.
“My angel wants to give you all a show,” Xavier announces, his fingers working the silk loose from my shoulders. “She wants you to see exactly who she belongs to.”
The crimson fabric pools at my feet, leaving me completely naked in front of fourteen other masked men and their prey.
My skin burns under their collective gaze, but instead of shame, heat floods my veins.
The exposure, the vulnerability, how Xavier’s hands claim every inch of me for their viewing pleasure—it’s intoxicating.
Three hunters who haven’t claimed anyone tonight move closer, forming a loose circle around us. I sense their hunger and frustration at missing out, and it only makes me wetter.
“Look at her,” Xavier murmurs, cupping my breasts from behind, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peak. “Look how she responds to being displayed. My perfect exhibitionist.”
One of the circling hunters—tall, broad-shouldered, with intricate tattoos visible beneath his open shirt—takes another step closer.
“Careful,” Xavier warns. “She’s mine to touch.”
His hands roam every inch of me possessively, one sliding down my stomach. At the same time, the other continues its assault on my breasts. When his fingers find my slick folds, I can’t contain the moan that escapes.
“See how wet she gets from having an audience?” Xavier’s finger circles my clit. “She’s dripping down her thighs knowing that you’re all watching.”
The humiliation should kill my arousal. Instead, it feeds it, making me arch against Xavier’s touch as the three hunters continue their circling. It appears that despite Xavier’s demand to stop, a few of the hunters and prey are at it again.
Near the wall, I catch sight of a masked man getting his cock sucked by Elliot. Julian watches, apparently content to share his conquest.
Xavier’s finger slides inside me, and I gasp on a soft, desperate whimper, the sound echoing through the suddenly quiet chamber.
“That’s it, angel,” he growls against my ear. “Let them all hear how much you crave this. Crave me.”
Xavier’s hand fists in my hair, pulling my head back against his shoulder as his other hand continues its torment between my thighs. The angle forces me to arch, displaying me more completely to the circling hunters.
“On your knees,” he commands, his voice rough with need. “Hands and knees. Now.”
I sink down onto the plush rug, the Persian fibers soft against my palms and knees. Behind me, I hear the distinctive sound of Xavier’s belt buckle, then the rasp of his zipper. My core clenches in anticipation, wetness coating my inner thighs.
“Look at them watching you,” Xavier growls, positioning himself behind me. “Look how much they want to taste what’s mine.”
I lift my eyes to the three hunters who’ve moved even closer. One man’s massive frame towers over us, his dark eyes burning with frustration. The other two flank him like predators denied their kill.
Xavier’s hands grip my hips with bruising force, and without warning, he drives into me in one devastating thrust. The stretch, the fullness, the way he hits that spot deep inside me—it’s too much. My orgasm crashes over me instantly, tearing a scream from my throat that echoes through the chamber.
“Fuck,” Xavier snarls, his grip tightening as my walls clench around him. “Coming already? Such a good little exhibitionist.”
He doesn’t give me time to recover. His pace is brutal, each thrust driving me forward on my hands and knees with an intensity that borders on violence. The sounds I’m making—desperate, needy moans mixed with his name—fill the air around us.
“Can we get a turn?” The towering man’s rough voice cuts through my cries. “She looks like she could take more than one.”
Xavier’s response is immediate and leaves no room for argument. His thrusts halt as he leans over my back, one hand wrapping around my throat in a clear display of ownership.
“No one touches her but me,” he growls, his voice carrying enough menace to make even him take a step back. “She’s mine. Every inch of her belongs to a Blackwood.”
I hear the sound of zippers. When I manage to look up through the haze of pleasure, I see all three hunters freeing their cocks, stroking themselves as they watch Xavier slam into me with renewed ferocity.
“Then we’ll have to enjoy the show,” he says, his voice strained as his fist works his impressive length.
Xavier resumes his brutal pace, each thrust sending shockwaves through me as the three hunters pleasure themselves at the sight of my complete surrender .
My eyes drift to the three cocks being stroked feet from where Xavier fucks me, and shame burns through my chest even as fresh arousal floods my core.
They’re all different—the towering man’s thick and intimidating, one of the others long and curved, the third perfectly proportioned but still impressive.
The sight of their hands working their lengths while watching Xavier fuck me sends pulses of heat straight to my center.
What’s wrong with me? I should be horrified, disgusted by their voyeuristic pleasure. Instead, seeing how hard they are, how their eyes burn with frustrated desire as they watch me being fucked—it makes me wetter than I’ve ever been in my life.
Xavier’s pace intensifies. The wet sounds of our bodies joining, my desperate moans, his guttural groans—it all blends into a symphony of depravity that stokes the fire consuming me.
“Look how she stares at your cocks,” Xavier pants, his voice rough with exertion and dark satisfaction. “My angel likes having an audience.”
The shame amplifies my arousal, making me arch back against Xavier’s brutal thrusts as heat floods my cheeks.
One of the hunters—not the massive one who spoke before, but the one with the curved cock—steps closer. His voice is cultured and educated.
“She looks like she’d love to get that tight little ass filled,” he suggests, his fist working his length faster. “Bet she’d scream so pretty with your cock stretching her back there. ”
The words hit me like lightning. Every part of me quivers as an orgasm tears through me without warning, more intense than anything I've ever experienced. I'm screaming Xavier's name, my walls clamping down around him so hard I see white.
“Fuck,” Xavier snarls above me, his hips stuttering. “Did you come from him talking about your ass?”
I can’t form words, can’t do anything but shake as aftershocks ripple through me. The sensitivity is overwhelming—every nerve ending feels exposed, raw, hypersensitive to the slightest touch.
Xavier leans down, his chest pressing against my back as his lips find my ear. His breath is hot against my skin, sending fresh shivers down my spine.
“Is that what you want?” His voice is velvet darkness, each word making my core clench around him. “Do you want my thick cock stretching your tight little ass while they watch?”
My mouth opens, but no sound emerges except ragged breathing. All I can do is nod frantically, my head bobbing like a desperate puppet as Xavier’s cock throbs inside my still-clenching walls.
“Yes,” I gasp, the word torn from somewhere deep inside me. “Please, Xavier. I want... I want everything.”
His answering growl is beast-like, as he pulls out of me slowly, leaving me empty and aching, before his hands grip my ass cheeks and spread them wide. The vulnerability brands me—shame tangled tight with aching need .
“Look at this perfect little hole,” he murmurs. “So tight.”
The three hunters move closer, their breathing heavy as they stroke themselves faster. I can feel their eyes burning into every inch of exposed flesh, cataloging every reaction as Xavier’s thumb presses against my asshole.
“Have you ever been fucked here?” Xavier asks.
“No,” I whisper. “Never.”
Xavier’s other hand disappears, and I hear the wet sounds of him coating his fingers with my arousal. When his slick finger replaces his thumb, pressing slowly inside me, I cry out at the foreign sensation.
“Relax,” he commands. “Let me open you up properly.”
The stretch burns, but underneath the discomfort is a dark wave of pleasure that makes me push back. One finger becomes two, opening me carefully as I pant for air.
“Such a good girl,” Xavier praises, his fingers working me open patiently. “Taking my fingers so well. You’re going to look so beautiful stretched around my cock.”
The hunter with the curved cock steps closer, his breathing ragged. “She’s getting wetter from your fingers in her ass.”
He’s right. I can feel fresh arousal dripping down my inner thighs as Xavier adds a third finger, the stretch intense but manageable now. My body is betraying every principle I thought I possessed, responding to this depravity with enthusiasm that terrifies me.
What the hell has happened to me?