Page 31 of Property of Brute & Axl
“What the fuck,” Brute growls.
Drawing back, I lick my lips, realizing my face is covered in her juices, and my lips draw up in a satisfied smirk while cupping her ass in offering. “Looks like she might need a spanking.” Finleigh whimpers as my suggestion registers.
Brute doesn’t reply but licks the tip of his fingers and swats three times in quick succession on each cheek. “A little red, a little slutty, a whole lot fuckable.” He grunts, shoving me out of the way as he undoes his pants, releases his giant cock, and drives into her cunt in one harsh thrust.
Grasping her wrists, I pin them to the counter so she can’t move away from Brute’s brutality. He’s harder and on edge, the slapping of his hips connecting with her ass is thunderous and likely heard in the hall beyond the closed door.
“Gag her,” he grunts.
Ripping her thong from her body, I stuff the soaked material into her mouth. Her eyes pop open and plead for us to give her what she wants.
“Patience, princess.” I chuckle when she glares at me, throwing her hips back at Brute, who takes it as a challenge and spanks her again. Harder this time, with his entire hand. “Fuck, that’s gorgeous.” He left a crimson print on her ass cheek.
“She fucking likes it. Smack her,” Brute grunts, gripping her hips roughly, fucking her body onto his dick.
Holding her stare, I wallop her ass firmly in several spots, only pausing to massage the sting away when her eyes roll back into her head.
“Ah, fuck, yeah. Keep doing it. Her pussy gets so fucking tight and soaks my dick.” Brute’s eyes are closed, his body tense, and he’s on the verge of blowing his load deep inside her cunt.
Finleigh squeals around her panties with the first slap; by the second, Brute groans while nutting, and suddenly my dick realizes everyone got to come but us.
As he withdraws from her body, I pick her up, sit her on the counter, and smash my lips across hers while pulling the fabric out. I fuck her mouth with my tongue the way I’ll fuck her cunt later, and she falls into me, taking everything I give her until there’s a knock on the door.
I want to tell them to fuck off, but I know we need to gather her shit and get out of here before someone tries to come for her.
“What!” Brute shouts as he grabs her a glass of water.
Izzy walks in. “Hawthorne, the doorman, says Shawn had a key when he was here, also said it wasn’t the first time the man had made an appearance. Apparently, he’s been coming and going for a few months, always when Finleigh is out.”
“I never gave it to him,” she says, horrified.
“We know,” I reassure her, my hand caressing up and down her back. She tilts into me for support.
“Got some good news from Swamp and Easy.” He flashes an evil grin. “They’ve got Chuck Bines and three of his goons at The Grove.”
Brute grins like he’s just won the lottery, and excitement rushes through me. “Tell them to treat them well. Finleigh needs to identify them for us.”
She tenses under my hands but doesn’t comment.
Looks like things are turning our way a little more. All we need is to find the fifth asshole, and the world will know not to fuck with our girl.
Chapter 18
Finleigh
My memories are like discs in a jukebox. They’re there, but you’re never sure which one will play. It’s exhausting, waiting for something new to trigger, and whether it’ll be traumatizing or not.
The guys have been in the doorway talking in hushed tones ever since Izzy arrived, informing us that Chuck, the man behind my assault, had been found. Their excitement was tinged with malicious undertones, so I won’t ask what they have planned for him and his band of idiots.
We still haven’t found my cell phone, so I assume it’s either in the Bay Springs cabin or it’s been ditched with my wallet. It almost feels like losing my identity for a second time. Although it is a bit of a relief to discover that I not only have a best friend who is like a sister, but also two biological sisters, as well. Remembering where they are and why they haven’t been able to identify me is better than what I’ve imagined.
It is heartbreaking, however, that my parents have basically ignored my existence. The relationship has always been strained between the three of us, but I thought that when I started working in the gallery, it would improve. What a lie.
Being here only makes me feel worse, so I head to the kitchen, ignoring the bag I had been packing, and decide to have a hot fudge sundae. The bananas were rotten, so a banana split is out of the question.
Squirting chocolate syrup into a small bowl, I pop it into the microwave for a minute before scooping out some vanilla ice cream into a larger bowl. When the microwave beeps, I remove the warm syrup and use a spoon to swirl the sweet concoction onto the cold dessert. After sprinkling some crumbled Oreo’s over the top, I drop onto the sofa and stare at the blank TV screen.
Closing my eyes as I take a bite, I savor the sugar overload on my tongue before swallowing and repeating the process until a hand rests on my shoulder.