Page 292 of Lessons in Cruelty

“Think all he did as my T.A. was staple some copies for me?” He shakes his head and starts working my dick like he knows it better than I do. And I’m struggling to keep my eyes open, struggling to keep myself in check, struggling to understand what he’s telling me and why this feels so fucking good.

“We fucked for months.”

His mouth is by my ear again. And he licks me there, slow and soft, leaving an aching trail in his wake.

“You’re. Lying!”

It’s not possible. Ezra’s only ever dated girls. Not many, but enough that I know he’s not gay.

My breath catches, and it sounds like a sob, because Jesus, it feels like I’m going to come, but I’m not getting there, it’s just hovering out of reach, building until I’m ready to explode.

“He showed me his scars,” Rooke whispers. “Told me who gave them to him. How it fucked him up so bad, he begged for more.”

Suddenly everything about my childhood makes perfect, horrible sense, like our professor just drew back a curtain. The way Ezra slowly changed. Like he’d accepted his fate as Dad’s punching bag.

Is that why he started hitting me?

Did he want me to fight back?

Does my brother love pain that much?

I’ve never liked Rooke, but now I fucking hate him for showing me what was behind the veil.

Chapter 16

Haven

It hurts when Rooke puts a finger inside my asshole, despite the lube he smeared all over me. But that pain quickly subsides as Kai’s fingers slide into my pussy, stretching me tight.

I’m too tired to fight. Too drugged up.

Too confused by the way my body responds to their touch to tell Kai that whatever fucked up theory he’s concocted in his head isn’t true.

I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

Scared.

Confused.

Vulnerable.

They’re conspiring now. Whispering to each other. And all I want is to close my eyes and succumb to the wave that wants to pull me under, but I keep my eyes open, and I watch. Because I’ve had to be cautious and alert every moment of my fucking life.

When Kai takes out his cock, my body comes alive again. A dead plant someone finally let have a trickle of water. I squirm, the fingers inside me less of an invasion now. More of a precursor.

And then Rooke grabs Kai’s cock, like he’s showing him how to do it, and wetness floods my pussy as I clench around Kai’s fingers.

They’re whispering, voices hard to hear over the rustle of bedsheets and the clink and clatter of my collar and chain, my body restless as it writhes, desperate for attention, begging for more.

Rooke kisses the side of Kai’s face. But Kai’s angry. Confused.

Don’t fight it, Kai. I can see you want it.

Like that day at the maple.

He kept fighting himself. Wanting it. Needing it. But refusing himself the pleasure. The prize he’d fought so hard to win all the years we’d been together.

“Please,” I whisper to them, to myself, to nobody.