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Roark snorts as he grabs the liquid stitches, pinching the skin. “I am the least gentle person you’ll find,” he laughs. “I nurse how I fuck: rough and dirty.”
Derek shifts his weight, and I see him adjust his dick in his pants. “There was something you were telling me, but if you want me to play with your cock, I’m down for that too,” I tease him.
Crossing his arms he shakes his head furiously. “If we start down this path, we’ll never get back to the hotel,” he groans.
Roark chuckles evilly. “Uh-huh. You’re telling me you don’t want to play because you want to be responsible.”
“Argh, how does Lennon get a word in edgewise with you two?” he asks with a strangled laugh.
I shrug. “I mean… most of the time we wait till she’s done talking before we stick our dicks in her, but that’s only when we feel like being polite.”
Roark doubles over laughing, shaking his head. “Oh my god, Derek just spit it out already,” he says, wiping his tears of mirth from his gorgeous caramel eyes.
My heart grows a little fonder of Derek at this moment. Roark and I alone would just rage and drink, wallowing in our ineptness to help. Derek brings a new dynamic to our group that I wasn’t expecting.
“What if you distracted the media by pretending to behave badly? You hit clubs, get in fights, do the cliched things that Prescott always accused you guys of doing?”
“How does this help though?” I ask as I check Roark’s work. If I keep the area clean and refrain from breaking shit while I’m holding it, it’ll be fine.
“Redirection,” Roark grunts. “If we disappear, the paparazzi are just going to make shit up. But if we are driving the narrative, then this takes away some of the heat on Lenny. I could tell your dad wants to make her the poster child of mental health for his campaign, but if we pull enough shit to keep the media occupied, she’ll be old news.”
Derek nods. “Len’s worked really hard on her career with you guys. I want her back, healthy, and ready to step back into her life if she wants it. If she wants to break away from music for a while, that’s fine too. I just want to give our girl options at the end of all of this,” he growls.
I smirk, standing up. “Our girl, huh?”
Derek blinks and I don’t think he realized what he said. “Uh, yeah…?”
Roark chuckles darkly, lithely standing and prowling towards Derek. “Since she’s ours… so are you. We meant what we said in our conversation earlier.”
Roark doesn’t give him a moment to think, grabbing Derek by the back of the neck and kissing him hard. “Are you gonna help me punish Turner for being a brat, baby?”
I smirk as I watch Derek’s eyes hood and he moans as Roark sucks on the pulse point of his throat. I need a release to be able to function, and bratting myself into a punishment will work just as well as beating the shit out of someone.
“Ye–yes, Ror,” he gasps.
“Mmm. Good… Very good.” Roark swallows hard as he steps away from Derek. It’s still hard to remember to not use pet names with him, and after Derek’s run in with Lavender’s mom, I know Roark is being extra mindful of this.
Roark looks over at me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me towards him. “You need an attitude adjustment, darling man. Hurting yourself, pouting, I can’t fucking deal with the mood swings. Come and take your punishment then.”
I am getting exactly what I didn’t know I needed when I got on this bus and I grin, licking my lips. “Ugh, it was just a tiny scratch,” I groan and Derek shakes his head.
“You’re so full of shit, and I swear to God you know exactly what it does to me when you play with your tongue ring,” Derek complains.
Honestly, I had a feeling it made him wild, but now I know for sure. “Darlin’, I may be full of it, but I’d rather be full of cock.”
Roark pushes me over the arm of the couch, rolling his eyes as he swats my ass with his huge hand.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
“No, one. I know you can count, brat.” I earn myself another hard smack on my other cheek and gasp.
Roark leans over me as he pulls some rope out of one of our hidden compartments. “Two,” I respond with a smirk, glancing over at Derek and winking.
Ror grinds his dick into my ass as he ties my wrists together, expertly tying off knots until I’m a fucking work of art. Noticing there’s a loop of rope meant for just one thing, I grin happily. “Derek, there’s a hook in the middle of the couch. If you reach into the space between the cushions, you’ll find it. Pull it up so we can punish this brat properly,” Roark says as he pushes me down further until my top half lays flat on the couch.
“Holy fucking shit,” Derek whispers, scrambling to do as Roark commands. The hook is slightly further than the reach of my arms, causing me to have to rise up off my heels.
Rip. Roark is working off aggression too, because he’s tearing off my shirt. Next, he rips my joggers down, kicking my feet apart.
