Page 13

thirteen

T here’s no slow, graceful fall to the bed from Hux. No build up of tension like in some romance movie where he kneels on the bed with his eyes on mine and honeyed words on his lips. No, he’s too much of a predator for that.

He lunges at me, tackling me down and causing a yelp to escape my lips as, once more, my back hits the bed hard. His fingers twist into my shirt, and before I can even consider doing something like fighting him, he’s ripped it off over my head, leaving me in my bralette.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” Huxley praises, shoving me down with his hand splayed on my chest. “I could mark you up, you know. Make you remember me for the rest of your life.”

My stomach jolts at that, and my eyes dip automatically to the knife at his belt before I can stop myself.

His brows jerk upward when he sees where my gaze goes, and with his free hand, Huxley releases the blade from its sheath, brandishing it in front of me. “Oh, I just meant biting you and sucking hickeys onto that pretty skin.” He chuckles. “But that’s not what you thought I meant. You thought…” He carefully and oh so slowly brings the point of the blade down to my sternum, just below where his hand is resting.

Immediately I freeze. I can’t even breathe with the point of the knife there, and everything in me feels like I’m paralyzed.

“Please don’t,” I murmur, my lips barely moving. “Huxley?—”

“Don’t what?” he chuckles. “Don’t draw pretty patterns on your skin? Hmm?” He drags the blade down my chest, dipping between my breasts under the thin fabric of my bralette. “Let’s see.” He jerks the blade outward, catching the fabric. I hear it tear along the blade, and a sound of frustration bubbles to my lips.

“Stop!” I protest, but I don’t move except to twist my hands in the sheets under me. I’m too afraid of shoving at him or trying to get him off of me. I’m terrified he’ll slip, whether on purpose or by accident, and at the very least I’ll be a bleeding mess on my bed.

“Why?” He continues to pull the fabric tight, the fibers tearing apart on the edge of the blade.

“Because I fucking like this bra!”

“Oh,” he drawls, lazily looking up to meet my eyes. “Well, if that’s the case.” He twists the blade and jerks outward, tearing the fabric enough that he can reach up with his other hand and rip it the rest of the way apart down the middle amidst my yelp of disapproval.

“Anyway…back to the important part. Ah!” He pushes me back down when I move to sit up, straddling me with a hand at the base of my throat. “No, you stay there. And consider where you want to put your hands. I have a knife, and you don’t.”

But the only thing I consider is how to hit him and where I’ll do the most damage. Balling my right hand into a fist, I lash out at Hux, just for him to catch me by my wrist with a click of his tongue. “Predictable…” He sighs as he shoves the knife back into his belt. “And I was going to be so nice. I was going to give you a chance to be good for me. But then again, I sort of love that about you, Kai.”

“That I’m fully ready to break your nose?”

“That you’re like a cornered animal, always ready to bite back for your freedom. No matter how stupid it may be.” I hear the clink of metal, but I’m only confused for a moment before Huxley dangles a pair of handcuffs in front of me. “Nah-ah-ah.” He grins when I writhe under him in earnest, and it’s not as difficult as it should be for him to twist my hands behind me, no matter how hard I try to stop him.

Metal slides around my wrists, and Huxley growls against my face as he closes the cuffs, trapping my hands behind my back and leaving me without a way to fight him off.

Suddenly, I feel even more vulnerable than I did when he drugged me two nights ago. I twist and wriggle while he watches, and when Huxley leans down with his mouth only inches from mine, I go against my instinct to let him kiss me, even though I know how good at it he is.

Instead, I snap my teeth together inches away from his lips with a low growl, like the wild animal he claims I am. Hux laughs, the sound surprised and enthusiastic, and his hand comes back to press me down flat again.

“My little bunny has quite the snarl, doesn’t she?” he teases condescendingly, causing my stomach to twist from something other than fear. “She wants me to think she’s not just prey . Too bad for you, little bunny. You can’t fool me with that. Not when I’ve seen much scarier things than you. Now where were we?”

The knife is in his hand again, and once more I freeze as the blade touches my skin. “Where would I put my initials, hmm?” he asks, though I’m certainly not about to answer that question. I tremble under him, and everything in my body feels tight and on edge.

But fuck , I’d be lying if I pretend it’s not arousing as hell. Heat pools between my thighs, and something curls alongside the fear in my belly. My breath catches as he drags the blade down my chest and between my breasts, only to trace along them with the knife.

“Don’t…” I whisper, my eyes on his. He looks so terrifying like this, with his eyes dark and focused. His lips are very slightly parted, and I swear I can hear his breathing in the silence of my room.

“It doesn’t hurt as bad as you think,” Huxley purrs. “I bet you wouldn’t notice it at all with my fingers in your greedy pussy. But I don’t think I’d do it here, anyway.” Before I can even consider what he’s saying, Hux moves to sit beside me, easily yanking my shorts and underwear off of me and leaving me absolutely bare to him once more, save the handcuffs.

I can’t hold still with my entire body on display for him. Every inch of me feels like it’s burning, and I can absolutely feel him just looking at me as he smooths one hand down my thigh. “No point in being modest, Kai.” He chuckles darkly. “I’ve seen it all before. Touched every inch of you when you couldn’t even consider defending yourself or hiding from me. I know your body intimately.”

“God, that doesn’t make this better,” I mutter. “That makes you sound like a creep.”

“Maybe I am.” He doesn’t seem upset at all by the insult. “But it’s better than killing you, I think. From my perspective, anyway. But if you think getting murdered by me is better than?—”

“No.” I cut him off nervously, shaking my head. “No, I—I don’t want to die, Hux.” I lift my knee, and to my surprise, his grip urges my leg up and over his hip.

“Well, duh. No one really wants to die.” He rolls his eyes at me and taps the flat of the blade against my stomach to make me flinch. “But that’s not the question here, remember? We’re trying to decide where I’d carve my initials into this pretty, pale skin.” With his free hand, he pushes my thighs wide around his knees, his gaze dipping down to where I’m completely bare to him.

My insides twist, and I can’t help but squirm in the cuffs, pulling at them until the metal bites into my wrists and a soft sound of protest leaves me at the sharp, almost pain.

“Well, if you wouldn’t wiggle, they wouldn’t hurt.” He presses his hand against my inner thigh, his eyes on mine while he does. “I think I’ll do it here.”

“Why?” I don’t know why that’s what comes out of my mouth, when I should be begging for him not to. I should be pleading, not curious.

Why the hell am I curious?

“Isn’t it obvious?” God, he seems so proud of himself, and I know I’m going to hate the answer. “No matter what you do, anytime you let another guy fuck you, they’ll see it. They’ll have to touch it. You can lie, or cover it, or tell them whatever you want. But you’ll know. And I’ll know.” He presses his palm to my inner thigh, then lifts it to trace letters against my leg.

“You’ll know I marked you here, and that you’re mine . No matter who else fucks you, you’ll always be mine.” As I watch, he brings the knife down, and a whimper leaves my throat, though I’m frozen under him.

He follows the motion of his fingers with the blade, tracing an H , then a D after it. He does it once, then again, and the sharp tip of it presses into my skin hard enough that I’m surprised I don’t see blood.

“Don’t.” The word is out of my mouth as I look up at his face, eyes wide. “Hux, please?—”

“You’re not being very convincing.” But he tosses the blade onto the floor beside my bed, close enough that I could grab it if I had use of my hands. “Don’t ask me why, but there’s something in your face, pretty girl.”

Without warning, Hux shoves two fingers into me, pulling a yelp from my throat. I arch off the bed as much as I can, my arms protesting the stretch while my breath catches in my throat.

“Something that makes me think you’d like it more than you’re willing to admit. Poor thing,” Hux coos. “Should I have been nicer first? Should I have made you suck on my fingers so they were all wet for you, pretty girl? Thing is”—he crooks them inside of me, causing my hips to jerk upward—“you didn’t really need me to, did you?”

His laugh is dark and soft, and it makes everything in me curl with both fear and delight. I shouldn’t like this. I really shouldn’t be so okay with this or with him, but I can’t help the way something in me whines in approval at the way he touches me and the way he talks. It’s certainly not kind. Nothing about him is kind or sweet. But I think that would make it less perfect.

Less Huxley.

“Fuck, I think you get off on this, don’t you, little bunny? You like the idea of me being rough with you. Do the other boys you’ve fucked know that?” There’s something cruel in his words that should bother me. Instead, my stomach twists in excitement.

But when his fingers slow and his thumb comes to rest on my clit, I glare up at him with my body heaving with sharp intakes of air. “I asked you a question.”

“You’re the fucking worst.” But my words don’t make him move his fingers or his thumb. He just sits there between my thighs and grins down at me almost sweetly.

“Yeah, maybe. But I still asked you a question, Kai.” God, his grin makes me want to die. Or commit homicide.

But I also find that without him finger-fucking me until my head spins, I’m more than a little frustrated. I groan softly in my throat, throwing my head back and closing my eyes so I don’t have to look at his cocky-ass grin.

“Yes," I snap at last, thighs flexing around his hips. “Yes, okay?”

“Yes, what?”

God, he’s really going to make me do this, and I am unfortunately going to let him.

Fuck.

He barely twitches his fingers in me, but even that makes my hips arch into him, seeking more, which he doesn’t give me. “Yes,” I snarl. “Yes, I like it when you talk to me like that. I get off on you being rough, on you being mean, on being you. ”

When he still doesn’t move, I finally open my eyes to look at him, confused. Huxley is staring back at me, a little surprised and looking a bit like an owl as he just…studies my face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” But his grin is slowly coming back, and he slides a third finger into me, crooking them inside of me like a reward as his thumb rubs my clit. “I just thought you liked me being rough with you is all.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Nah, you also said you like how I talk to you. How I tell you all the terrible things I want to do to you.” He shouldn’t sound so delighted, and it sends a shiver of fear up my spine. “And I think, if I heard you right, you said you even like me.”

Yeah, he’s definitely way too pleased with himself.

“God, you really are a little fucked up, Kai.” He leans over me, and his other hand moves to splay over my ribs, fingers outstretched as he fingers me in earnest. I swear I can hear how wet I am, though I try to ignore it as I stare up at him, my eyes wide.

I can’t say much. Not when his thumb is rubbing relentlessly over my clit, causing me to squirm and writhe and want to beg for more. For anything.

Fuck, I really would beg him for anything and thank him for it after.

“Just a little,” I gasp out, wishing I could throw my arm over my face to hide what I’m sure is an embarrassing expression. “I don’t suppose you’d take the handcuffs off?”

“No. I like you all helpless like this. I like it when you just have to take what I give you.” His hand smooths down my stomach, pulling a shudder from me I can’t help. “My fucked up little bunny. You’re so perfect, aren’t you?”

“If that’s the word we’re using, I’m definitely not going to complain.” I’m aiming for sassy, but I gasp when he thrusts his fingers into me harder, and a little faster. With his thumb on my clit, I can feel my body tensing.

If I were on my own, it would’ve taken me a lot longer to get here. There’s no way I’d be so turned on so quickly. But with Hux here, holding me down and keeping me handcuffed with three fingers sliding in and out of me, I feel ready to just come apart on his hand.

There’s definitely something magic about his mouth and his fingers. Or I really am just a little too fucked up.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” He slaps my cheek lightly, causing me to open my eyes and glare at him indignantly. “Eyes on me, pretty girl. I want to see the face you make when you come all over my fingers.” I shudder when he says it, and it’s like just Huxley bringing it up drags me even closer to the edge.

“Hux—”

“I know. You’re so close, aren’t you? Just from my fingers and the way I talk to you. You know I could do anything to you with your hands trapped. You know I have Midazolam on me. I could drug you until you’re all loopy and all you want to do is beg for my fingers and cock. You know what?”

He leans forward, his lips brushing mine. “I bet you’d even beg for my initials carved into your thigh, right next to your pretty pussy.”

Huxley barely gets to finish his words before I’m coming, and the moment my lips part for a sound of desperation to escape, he crushes his mouth to mine to take it for his own, greedy and desperate.

My thighs clench around his hips, and I can’t move except to rock against him while my orgasm rolls through me. I want to curse, to moan, to make any kind of audible noise, but he’s intent on swallowing every single one as he continues to finger me through my release.

At least, until I’m lying on the bed with shaking thighs and a spaced out feeling between my eyes. Only then does he sit up with one last nip to my upper lip and a smile on his face that reminds me of the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re the worst,” I tell him with no hesitation. “Did you know that?” But my voice is too breathy to sound offended. Too rough around the edges to be anywhere near composed.

“I’m nowhere near the worst. For you, anyway.” He sits back and strokes his fingers along my thighs as I breathe, and even after I close my eyes, I can still feel him staring at me.

Watching me, like I’m the most interesting thing he could ever see, or like I’m going to do something unexpected.

Something fun.

For my part, the only thing I’m considering is just how fucked up this makes me and if I need a therapist. A real therapist, instead of just sometimes going to the pet store and kissing rabbits on the nose or stroking chinchilla ears.

God, I need a pet.

Somehow, the silence worse than anything Huxley could say, and I twist slightly under him, eyes flicking up to meet his. I scan my brain for something to say—for anything to stop the awkwardness—but I’m saved from having to do so when a soft chiming noise comes from his back pocket.

I stare at him and he stares right back, both of us clearly surprised. But then he curses under his breath and reaches back to dig his phone out of his jeans.

“Not a word,” he sighs, making eye contact with me once more. “All right?” In response, I give him a quick nod, though I squirm in the handcuffs and give him wide, hopeful eyes to convey that I hope he’ll undo them.

Huxley doesn’t, of course.

“Hey man.” His voice is so different as he climbs out from between my thighs, moving to sit against the wall and leaning his shoulders against it. He’s close enough that he can pull me with him, using his grip on my arm to help me onto my knees. “It’s a bit late for your shit tonight.” He sounds friendly…amicable. Like a normal guy.

But with his gaze on mine, narrowed and heated, it’s easy for me to remember he’s anything but. “Yeah, I get it.” He chuckles at whatever the person on the other end says, and reaches up to run his fingers through my hair until he can grip it tightly, fingers scraping at my scalp. “No, I have time. You can vent.”

Does he?

Glaring at him, I’m only met by his stupid, cocky grin as he yanks me forward. If my arms were free, I would’ve been able to catch myself. Instead, I’m at his mercy as he lets me fall until my cheek hits his thigh, hand still in my hair.

It’s harder to make eye contact to relay my murderous intent, but I manage. As I watch, he cradles the phone against his shoulder, so his now free hand can come down and deftly unbuckle his belt, then he undoes the front of his pants.

No fucking way .

Indignantly, incredulously, and with more than a little bit of anticipation, I watch as he frees his fingers from my hair, though I don’t move while frees his already hard cock from the confines of his pants and underwear.

“I’m sorry she’s been acting like that. Can you think of any reason why? You miss her birthday again?” He sounds so unaffected as his hand comes back to tangle in my hair. With one hand wrapped around his shaft, he slowly strokes his fingers up and over it, slicking pre-cum over his tip.

I shouldn’t feel a curl of excitement in my stomach.

And I really shouldn’t be watching him with rapt attention, his words just white noise to my brain with all of my focus on his hand and the way he’s moving it over his cock.

His hand in my hair drags me upward and toward him, but he’s almost gentle as he coaxes me over his lap until my lips are brushing his tip. Again I instinctively pull at my hands, as if I can magically free them, and I swear I hear his huffed chuckle at my fruitless efforts.

Huxley rubs the tip of his cock against my lower lip as he commiserates with his friend. Even when he pushes it inside, letting it rest on my tongue, he still just sounds so goddamn casual.

But when he jerks my head down—forcing his cock to slide over my tongue and to my throat—I have to work not to gag. Not to yelp, or make any other sound that’ll disturb his conversation.

Breathe through your nose , I remind myself, having to close my eyes when he pulls my head up, just to push it down again by my hair. This time I can’t help a whimper as I feel him in my throat, and when I swallow desperately around him, I swear I feel him shudder under me.

And yet his conversation doesn’t falter. He fucks my face languidly, like he has all the time in the world. Like he’s so damn unaffected, we might as well be doing taxes. Even when tears run down my face from the way he’s filling my mouth and throat, he doesn’t stop.

It’s not until I realize how heavy he is on my tongue and how his thighs tense under me that I hear his words falter.

“Fuck—Yeah, I know. Sorry, I’m listening. Hey, Brad?” He takes a breath, and God, I wish I could see his face. I know he can’t be nearly as unaffected as he’s pretending to be. Not now. As if he senses my thoughts, he pushes my head further down and arches into my mouth, causing me to choke around him.

A fresh wave of tears runs down my cheeks, and my mouth fills with so much saliva that it’s impossible for me to swallow. I can feel it pooling around his cock, kept in my mouth only by my lips. My hands twist and tremble behind me, and a very soft moan of indignation leaves me.

“I have to go. We can talk more tomorrow if you want. Bucky’s? Noon? I’ll buy you a beer and you can moan about Tricia’s latest cold shoulder attempt, okay?” He pauses, then belts out an enthusiastic laugh as he once more fucks my face with a long roll of his hips.

“Yeah, you too. Try not to get yourself kicked to the couch.” I hear his sigh, and a second later, the phone drops to the bed beside his lap just as he yanks me off his cock.

“ Fuck ,” Huxley snarls, and the friendly mask he was wearing is gone. He’s no longer the good guy. His eyes are dark and excited as he holds me up by my hair, panting with tears running down my face as I struggle in the handcuffs.

“Goddamnit, Kai. You’re not supposed to look so good like this. And your mouth feels almost as good as your pussy, you know?” Without asking or telling me his intentions, he drags me over him, forcing me to straddle his thighs. “Relax,” he snarls, gripping my hips.

“Hard to do with my hands cuffed,” I grumble, my voice hoarse from how he’d fucked my face.

That seems to get his attention. He swipes at the seam of my lips, smearing my spit and his pre-cum along my mouth with a sneer.

“Try anyway, pretty girl.” Without waiting, he reaches between us, and I feel the brush of his cock against my slit. But all I get to do is let out a soft sound that might charitably be called a whine before he forces me downward with his hand on my thigh. His hips move up at the same time, driving him into me deeply, thanks to the way my thighs are spread over his.

I can’t help it. I howl when he buries himself in my pussy, and with both hands on my hips he moves me like a doll, like a toy as he fucks me hard and deep and impossibly thoroughly, like he’s on a goddamn mission.

But I don’t realize my eyes are closed until I feel something wet on my face. My eyes snap open just as I recognize the feel of his tongue on my cheek, and Huxley laps up my tears while he fucks me and holds me in place.

“You always taste so good, little bunny,” he groans. “So good for me, you know that? Fuck, maybe God finally loves me for something, or I’ve pleased the devil enough for him to have sent you to me. You were made for me, weren’t you? Made to be fucked like I own you.”

“You don’t—” At a particularly harsh thrust I drop my head into his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, one hand wraps around my lower back, and he just continues to move, his hand on my leg adjusting me so he can hit even deeper.

I’ve never in my life come without someone—usually me, considering my history of partners—playing with my clit. But every time he sinks into my pussy, I swear I see stars, and before long I’m gasping again, my body desperately moving against his.

“Huxley!” I pant against his shoulder, teeth grazing his skin. “Hux, I’m?—”

“This is probably a good time to tell you I’ll be coming inside your pussy again. I love watching it leak out of you. Especially while you sleep. It’s like your body is just begging me to fill you back up, and fuck, I really will, Kai.” He laughs. “Come with me. Come on my cock. You know you’re just dying for it, pretty girl. Come on. I won’t ask again, Kai ? —”

He doesn’t have to. I shriek as my body arches into him, and he only lasts for a few more seconds as my brain spirals. My eyes would probably be crossed if I didn’t have them clenched tight, and I can only focus on his sharp praises in my ear and the way he feels as he clenches me against him, like he wants me here.

Like he needs me right here.

“Good girl,” I finally hear, though his words are broken up by his panting breaths. “Such a good girl for me. So perfect . So fucked up.”

“I’m not—” I protest, but he tilts my head up and cuts me off with a growl as he nips at my lower lip.

“Don’t kid yourself, Kai. You’re probably just as fucked up as me.”