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“So sensitive,” Tomas teases while hovering over my lips. His breath coats my mouth and I stick out my tongue, urgent for his kiss. He shakes his head while keeping just out of my reach, pinching my right nipple as he says, “You don’t deserve it.”
“Yes, I do,” I gasp.
He hums his opposition while twisting the other nipple as Soren teases my ass. It’s the most unfamiliar sensation that sets off sparks in my core, the kind of reaction that I might have had to being touched by them the very first time. I can’t tell if I want it or don’t—and I hate that I’m leaning into the realm of desire.
Little dots of light dance in my vision when Soren caresses my clit. I buck into his touch, following his rhythm easily as hot waves crash over my shoulders. Just as I’m about to crest, he pulls back, making me flail on the bed while he grips his cock. He kneels on the left side of the bed, the mattress dipping in that direction while Tomas pulls out his cock.
They cum all over my face and chest, claiming me in long spurts that warm my skin. My wrists burn from being pinned above my head and yet I don’t care, too lost in the sensation of them marking me to think about anything else. The party doesn’t exist, and neither does the danger that lurks around every corner.
Here in this space, I’m just a toy. The relief of that realization shocks me into a sober state, causing me to open my eyes while I beg for release.
Soren draws close to my face as he fixes his cock back into his khakis. “No,” he states firmly. “You’re not allowed to come. You’re not allowed to clean up.”
My lower lip quivers. “But…”
“But nothing,” Tomas says while grabbing my chin. “You’ll wear our cum like a fucking gold medal. Understand?”
“Y-yes…”
While sitting up from the bed, I notice the mess they’ve made out of me. Cum glistens on my chest and pools in my cleavage, soaking into the fabric of my bra and tank top. The puddles made by their fluid are dark, and it’s obvious I’ve been fucked and fingered. That’s what they want. People will notice, and they’ll talk about it—the alpha’s slut just got nailed.
“Get used to being used,” Soren warns at the door, “the same fucking way you tried to use us.”
I don’t say anything as I trail after the boys into the thickest part of the party. I’m not an idiot. I know I’m being paraded around. A figure nearby catches my eye and I do a double take, my heart pounding in my chest as I blink through my panic.
Is that Lev?
Once I’m done blinking, I realize it’s Mikhail and I rest my hand over my chest, ignoring the sticky feeling beneath my fingertips. It’s rare for that kid to go out, but here he is, looking forever like the spitting image of his brother. He approaches Soren and the two exchange words, none of which I can hear over the ridiculously loud EDM.
Their voices grow louder, inviting my attention.
“I’ll be the one to avenge Lev,” Mikhail barks. “Not you.”
Tomas, his voice full of hostility, retorts, “We don’t even know who’s responsible yet.”
“I don’t fucking trust any of you,” Mikhail snaps. His gaze falls on me, upper lip curling in disgust while he adds, “Especially not filthy sluts.”
Why should I be offended at this point? Their plan is working. Everyone sees me as the filthy whore that I am, a human fleshlight with no other options except to be used. And the last one I thought I could trust just fucking dumped me.
If I don’t get them under my control soon, then I’m fucking done for.
* * *
Finding solace in the fencing studio seems to be my thing lately. It’s the only place I feel safe, all my other hiding spots having been invaded by the boys. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed they planted a tracking device on me. Paranoid, I rub behind my left ear and then my right ear.
It was stupid to check, but one can’t be too careful around here, I reflect while practicing my fencing positions without a weapon. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past them to surgically install a chip in their favorite fucking pet.
Christ, is this really my life now?
Chuckles erupt in the hallway and the three boys wander into the fencing studio, Soren closing the door behind them. I can only imagine why they’re here. Grabbing one of the foils calmly makes me feel a little more prepared, pointing the end of it down toward the ground while resting my free hand on my hip.
I stand tall as any warrior should despite how humiliated I feel about the other night at the Capital City party. “Can I help you?”
“Always, sugar,” Soren responds smoothly. “Why don’t you take those clothes off? Show Parker how hot it gets you to have your ass played with.”
I swing the foil into position and bite back, “Should I add a scar to match the one on your cheek?” I drop the end of it toward his crotch. “Or should I go lower this time, asshole?”
He raises his hands, a gentle smile crossing his lips. “All right, Zorro. Easy now.”
