Page 45 of Hysteria Rises (Dark Falls Hollow #1)

THIRTY-TWO

MALAKAI

My lips twitch as I listen to the heavy breathing coming from behind the shower curtain.

I totally just caught Cross jerking off.

He’s definitely not supposed to be doing that tonight.

Hell, ever. But I can’t really blame him.

That no masturbation rule is stupid. “Cross? You good?” I pause, cocking my head to the side.

There’d only been one person missing from our bedroom when I sat up earlier in a cold sweat, thoughts of tomorrow’s “revelry” running nonstop through my head.

Cross’s exit must have roused me. I don’t know why I followed. It wasn’t because of any reason I care to admit to myself at the moment.

“Fuck, Mal. Leave me alone.” It’s not often he’s in a mood at the same time I am. In fact, he’s usually the one prodding me with his sharp wit to see if he can get me to lose my cool, but I didn’t even do anything.

I can’t fucking help that I had no idea he was in the middle of treating his dick like a stress relief toy. “Not a fucking problem,” I bite out, wide awake and mildly irritated.

With nothing better to do, I peel off my underwear and toss it toward the dirty clothes pile in the corner, then reach into the stall beside the one Cross is currently occupying to get the shower started.

As I step under the hot spray, my mind drifts back to Twenty-three—but unfortunately, it’s not anything sexy.

I let out a disturbed sigh. I can’t stop thinking about the part I’ve played in what she’s gone through.

Every time I lay eyes on her, what I did skids right back to the forefront of my thoughts.

It weighs heavily on me, like a boulder on my chest. In my opinion, it’s about time everyone agrees to leave her the fuck alone, but there’s no way to say that without it calling attention to me.

I constantly have to prove myself to Kiefer.

And there’s not a day that goes by where I haven’t put on a goddamn act worthy of a fucking Academy Award.

The way of life in Dark Falls Hollow agitates the shit out of me, but I can’t let on.

I’ve lived a motherfucking lie every day of my existence since coming here. I’d give anything to leave.

If only my spitfire understood that. She interests me for reasons I’d never admit to anyone, and the fact that she’s survived what she has so far tells me everything I need to know about the sort of person she is.

Tipping my head back, I let the water pelt my face before scrubbing my hands over it in frustration.

For fuck’s sake. That girl withstood one of the most traumatic corrections I’ve seen in the three years I’ve been here.

And now? Because of her recent more docile behavior, she’s been allowed to live with the rest of our female population. Is that a good thing, though?

Is she like that now because they broke her? Did our fathers get their way? Did I break her? Agony tears through me. We’re on the verge of putting her through hell all over again, and she doesn’t even have a clue. This shit isn’t normal.

I helped her once. What are the odds it’ll be possible a second time without someone noticing? To my mortification, a desperate, aching sound escapes from my lips, and my soap-slickened hands tremble as I run them over my body.

Pausing to listen, I realize it’s mostly quiet in the next stall, with the exception of the intermittent splashing of water, so it startles me when Cross’s smooth voice reaches me. “Hey. Are you okay?”

My inner thoughts won’t ever be his to know. Letting out an aggravated sigh, I run my hands down my abdomen. “I’m fuckin’ fine.” My throat goes dry and each breath I take is more ragged than the last.

“You sure about that?”

My chest burns. “I don’t fucking know.” And I don’t know if I can trust him with anything, either.

“Rub one out. You’ll feel better.”

I freeze at his suggestion, blinking water from my eyes. “What?”

“You heard me. Whatever the problem is, jacking off will make you forget for a while.” From the next stall, the sounds of wet, slick skin on skin have me groaning, my cock standing at attention. He releases a pleasure-filled grunt, and my dick jerks.

I stop to run my tongue over my lower lip, swallowing hard. Fuck. Is he asking me to engage in a little mutual masturbation? “Uh … you know we can’t.” Is that what he meant?

A few very long seconds go by before he finally speaks. “No one will know if you don’t say anything.” He pauses, huffing out a belabored breath. “I won’t be saying a fucking word. But I’ll feel better.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. I don’t know how I do that knowing he’ll be over there doing the same.

And worse, I’d be doing it because he fuckin’ told me to.

I grimace, hissing through clenched teeth as I stare blankly at the wall.

This shower stall has become my own personal inferno.

I’m burning alive at the thought of what he’s suggesting.

The idea simmers and stews inside me until I finally exhale hard.

Blood pounds through my head, making it difficult to think.

“Agh. Fuuuck.” A grunt. A gasp. A heaved moan.

My jaw tightens at the sound of his pleasure-filled pants and my trembling hand slips down my soap-slickened abdomen.

Every inch of the descent toward my dick carries the inherent risk of stumbling further into madness.

The mental image of Cross stroking his thick cock takes over all rational thought, setting my blood to roaring through my veins.

I can’t hold back any longer. My fingers curl around my dick, and I give myself a leisurely tug.

Stop. Listen. Groan. I wet my lips as I tighten my grip, shuttling my fist from base to tip and swiping over the slit to collect the pre-cum.

He’s right. Fucking. There. I know what he’s doing, and perhaps even headier, he knows what I’m doing, too.

My eyes practically roll back in my head.

This is intense, dangerous behavior. Yet something about it being forbidden only makes it all that much hotter.

Not only is masturbation a no-no, it definitely is prohibited the night before the Hunting.

Both of us will be corrected if we’re caught.

Fuck. My chest jerks as I hold my dick in one hand and grasp my balls with the other.

I’m breathing hard now. So hard, I know he must hear what I’m doing.

And I wonder if listening to me does anything for him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I mutter. Forget all the other stuff, in the Collective’s eyes, homosexual behavior is just plain wrong.

This flies in the face of how this society is set up.

“I don’t fucking care,” he mutters, ragged exhalations being torn from his lips as we continue on. “Don’t stop,” he rasps.

I bite down on my lip, and finally give up the fight, stroking the hard length of my erection in earnest now.

In my mind’s eye, I see him in the next stall.

No more than a few feet away. Fuck. My eyes slam shut.

Maybe we’re even leaning against the same fucking wall.

At that thought, my heart rate spikes, and my breath catches as I let a low groan slip past my lips and work myself faster and faster, racing blindly toward a precipice, ready to fucking free fall right into hell for what we’re doing.

This society of our fathers’ making—it isn’t normal.

I know it isn’t. But does he? He has to understand perfectly well the risk he’s taking.

Since birth, he’s been taught a particular set of rules, been led to believe that the way life is lived here is the gold fucking standard.

For them, the Hunting has one purpose: to impregnate their women.

There are strict guidelines surrounding it and what else we do with our cocks.

The night before that crazed ritual is not the time for sexual shenanigans.

Especially not for two of the heirs to this commune.

My jaw tightens. He might just be fucking insane. So, there’s that.

I heave out a breath, pausing to run my thumb over the head of my dick. I wish it were his fucking hand on me. For several X-rated seconds, I imagine it is. That alone has me gritting my teeth, a surge of desire so sharp it hurts ripping into me.

We haven’t ever been friends. Cross is too fucking intense, too smart for his own fucking good.

He gets on my last nerve. He’s making me lose my fucking mind because I think about him in ways that could get me in the worst kind of trouble.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. I hate that he knows me in this way.

There’s no doubt in my mind what would happen if anyone found out the thoughts that run through my head.

I hate that he was right when he said he knew I watched him.

I do. But right this very second, all I fucking want is to indulge in my most secret desires.

In the headiness of this stolen, secret moment, while my head is mixed-up and my body aroused, all I want is him.

A moment later, a low moan echoes through the room.

“Cross,” I groan softly, then immediately cringe, hoping my vigorous movements and the splashing of the water hides that his name ever passed my lips. My balls are so fucking heavy with the need to come, I can hardly think straight, and I wonder if he heard me or if I got away with it.

“Yeah, baby boy?” he grunts out a moment later.

My cheeks flame with heat. His grit-filled voice is like a lightning strike to my dick.

I see him clearly. Working his shaft, the tattoos on his forearm move almost as if they’re alive.

Water flows over dips and planes of hard muscle, sluice down powerful legs, and drip from his erect cock.

And more than anything else, it’s that taunting smirk on those full lips of his that gets me.

My balls draw up, and I pant. With each stroke of my hand, I edge closer to oblivion.

“Hearing your ragged breath makes my blood race. Fuck—” The catch of his voice has my shaking legs perilously close to giving out. Orgasm. Imminent.

Cum rockets from my dick as I unload, imagining what it’d be like if he were in here. With me. I let out a choked sound as Cross moans in unison.

“I know you, Kai. Whether you want me to or not.”