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PROLOGUE
Olivia
Three monsters approach me out of nowhere.
Each deadly in his own way.
Colt. Brock. Rook.
I’d recognize the star players on the Saintswood Sinners anywhere.
Colt is the quarterback. At six foot six, he towers over my five-foot frame like a sadistic presence. He boasts a chiseled jaw, icy black eyes, and plush red lips that, from the way they curl into a smirk, combine silk with cobra venom. His gaze is as hard as his iron muscles, and his dead stare that emanates from under wisps of thick blond hair could cut ice. He stares at me like a lion mapping his prey, but he’s not sizing me up. This alpha predator doesn’t need to.He’ll consume me whole no matter what I throw in his plans.
Brock is six foot four and just as fierce and strong as Colt. If the rumors I’ve seen online are any indication, he’s a playboy who burns through women and tosses them in the trash when he’s done. He’s the quintessential privileged running back who’s used to getting whatever he wants out of life. His muscles bulge like a bodybuilder’s and his emerald eyes flicker menacingly. He probably can get any woman at this party to drop their panties.
The third one is rumored to be more sensitive than his two friends. Rook. The linebacker. He’s seven feet tall and built like an ox with a shaved head even though he has thick dark hair. He looks at me like he might tell his friends to step back, but then he smirks as he rubs his bulge. His cock is already hard under his pants, and from what I can see, he’s absolutely massive. He gives off the vibe of a convict who’ll fuck you until you scream and slam his fist over your lips to prevent his cellmates from hearing. Rumor has it that he’s the filthiest dirty talker at Saintswood who denigrates you like he grew up in the prison yard around straight up killers. But he’s also sensitive, a big alpha predator who buys you flowers after fucking you blind.
I look down at my body, confusion barreling through me. I’m the only freshman girl here in a sweater instead of a tank top. The only girl here who’d rather be curled up with a book than at a party.
I’ve been to a few parties here at Saintswood, but for the most part, I stay away from this crowd. When I drink, I do it with my roommate Rina. I’m only here tonight because she invited me, and told me we shouldn’t start the semester off by being loners.
I wish I’d stayed in my dorm room with my books.
Colt looks me up and down. "You shouldn’t be here dressed like that."
My fingers tug at the bottom of my plain sweater, pulling it down to protect me. "I’m only in a sweater and leggings."
My outfit isn’t exactly comparable to the kitty ears some of the scantily clad girls here are wearing. A pang of jealousy shoots across me when I lock eyes on their perfect bodies.Thoseare the type of girls the Sinners go after. Ones with perfect tits, great asses, and legs that are as long as the Eiffel Tower. I wouldn’t even be surprised if half of these girls spoke a little French just to come across as sophisticated while they’re riding Colt, Brock, and Rook’s cocks.
Brock steps behind me, then locks my hands behind my back. "Not for long."
My brows furrow. "What are you talking about?"
Rook takes a step forward. He massages his bulge, his eyes never leaving mine. "Look at your scared little face. Your mouth will look so hot wrapped around my cock."
Colt brings his hand between my legs, then presses his middle finger to my pussy. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t rip your leggings off with my teeth."
My thighs clench around Colt’s hand. It’s enormous, so big which is just the way it needs to be when he’s gripping footballs. When I applied to Saintswood my senior year of high school, I watched his highlight reels more than once.
Colt is extremely talented on the field. He’s the top in the league for a reason, and the determination and focus he gives every single game didn’t slip my attention. None of the other players except for Brock and Rook showed up with the same unfettered competence time after time.
"Tell me why you're already soaking wet." Colt leans in, his rich cologne assaulting my senses. "Is it because the quarterback on the Sinners is fingering your little cunt and you didn’t even have to beg for it?"
I try to struggle free, but Brock grips my hands even tighter behind my back. "Try to get away. See what happens."
Rook unzips himself and untucks his massive cock. It swings upward, every inch unfurling in the lights of the party.
Rook traps my cries in my mouth by slamming his hand over my lips. "Shhhh, little angel. Don't act like this is the first time you’ve seen a cock."
This is the first time I’ve seen a hard cock in person. I saw my stepbrother Nate’s growing up when he used to come into my room after his showers, but never erect.
Rook’s dick is a monster. At least eleven inches long, it’s thicker than three of my forearms. The tip is angry and pink, and the liquid gushing down the side tells me he’s excited.
My eyes travel to Rook’s balls next. They’re full, loaded, and swinging between his legs. They’re unlike any man’s balls I’ve ever pictured in my mind. Nate once told me that men often have one ball that hangs down lower than the other, but not Rook. His welcome gravity’s tug with equal weight, each low and bursting with cum.
"Hand out." Colt narrows his gaze. "Now."
"Please." I manage to speak through Rook’s fingers, even though it’s hard. "I’m a virgin. Don’t do this."
