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Look at me now.
“And then I stabbed his chest,” I murmured, yanking my finger away from his neck as if I were yanking a knife instead, and I brought that same finger to his chest, just above his heart. Neo had been too thick, the switchblade not long enough to reach his heart. Gareth was lean, not as muscular as the school’s quarterback. I wondered if that switchblade would be long enough to reach Gareth’s.
I kept rocking my hips along his length, and I took my finger away from his chest and then ran it along the base of his neck, as if I were cutting it. “And then I sliced through his neck and watched him bleed out.” I closed my eyes, moaning when I felt Gareth’s cock twitch inside me. “He was gone so fast. It was…” I couldn’t find the words.
This whole thing was so wrong, but it felt so right.
Gareth smirked, and he sat up, wrapped his arms around me, and then flipped us so I was once again the one underneath him. He took on a hard, fast rhythm that drew feminine grunts from my lungs. “Did you finish yourself off? I bet you did.” He didn’t need me to answer, not like Alistair, for he added, “Did he piss himself when he was inside you?”
I nodded. There was no use in lying now. Maybe I’d feel shame about it tomorrow, or maybe that shame would never come, because Neo got exactly what he deserved.
“Oh, I bet that was something else,” Gareth whispered, filling me up with his cock with a particularly hard thrust of his hips. “I’d love to be inside a girl when she dies—”
I grabbed his face and forced him to gaze into my eyes. “If I’m yours, then you’re mine too, Gareth. Your cock won’t be inside anyone but me.” I didn’t say it tentatively. I said it confidently, one hundred and ten percent serious. What I did with Neo didn’t count; it was that or die, and I didn’t think Gareth would get caught in a situation like that.
Gareth’s body rocked above mine, but he didn’t swat my hands off his face. He let me hold onto him as he fucked me even harder, telling me, “Say it again.”
After all the push and pull, the hot and cold, the terrible things Gareth had tried to do, not only to me, but to others, just to get me to submit. After all that, we ended up here, anyway. Maybe fate had something to do with it after all.
So I had to say it. I had to. “You’re mine, Gareth Montgomery. All mine.”
He must’ve been teetering on the brink before that, because right as I said the words he wanted so desperately to hear, his body lurched against mine, his cock spearing me as he growled out a low, animalistic sound. He came with a vengeance, and his cock filled my core up with his cum. His face leaned down to mine, and he breathed me in, relishing the moment, prolonging it.
Gareth lazily pulled out of me after a long twenty seconds, and it was as he rolled onto his side, his cock sticky and still hard, that he muttered, “I don’t see how that’s fair, you know. I’m not allowed to stick it in anyone else, but you’re allowed to take my uncles’ dicks whenever you want?”
I grinned at that, and as I turned my head to look at him, I said, “Hey, you can take your uncles’ dicks too, if you wanted. I’d be okay with that.” I didn’t know what possessed me to say it, but the thought of the three of them wrestling to show who was more alpha… yeah, it’d probably be the hottest thing I’d ever see.
He scoffed at that. “Please. I might have a fucked-up sense of right and wrong, but that’s on a whole different level. Keep dreaming, Bri.” He usually stuck to that name when he was inside of me or about to be inside me. It was… odd, to hear him call me that now, but I think I liked it.
My mom called me Bri sometimes, but it wasn’t out of love. No, that woman never loved anything—except now. She loved the money that came with marrying Alistair Montgomery.
I kicked the duffel bag at the foot of the bed. “What’s in the bag?”
“Clothes for you,” he told me, sluggishly working to put his dick away and button his pants. He sat up, grabbed his glasses and put them on, then he went for the bag and pulled it toward us. “I swung by the house before coming here. My uncle told me to, but, you know, I saw how drenched in blood you were, so believe it or not I actually had the idea myself.” He pulled the zipper, opening the bag, and the first thing he lifted from inside the duffel bag was…
A lacey pair of panties, of course.
“That’s funny,” I said as I sat up and took the panties off his finger, “I don’t remember having these.”
“Ah, that’s because while you were off flirting with an apparent psychopath, I bought you some stuff.” Gareth then pulled out a matching black bra. “Just so we’re clear, these are for me to see you in, not for you to wear while prancing around in front of my uncles.”
I chuckled at that. I got off the bed and slipped the panties on, then took the bra from him. As I put it on, I lifted my eyebrows and asked, “Who’s calling who a psychopath?” Gareth gave me a grumpy look, but that grumpiness faded the moment he let his emerald eyes drop to my body in the new underwear.
Yes, they fit me perfectly. The asshole had snooped around my drawers and found my sizes when I wasn’t paying attention, I guess.
Gareth didn’t say anything to that, but he did pull out some dark, holey jeans and a pink shirt, tossing them at me one by one, never taking his eyes off me as he watched me put them on.
So, I said something, “He really hated you. You and Alistair. The Montgomery family.” I recalled Neo’s long rant. “He never gave a single reason why he hated you so much, but he was obviously ready to do whatever it took to take you guys down.”
“I don’t know why,” Gareth spoke with a shrug. “I hardly ever said five words to him our whole lives. We weren’t exactly in the same social circles—”
“You’re in your own circle, Gareth.”
He smirked at me. “You’re in my circle now too, you know.”
I finished with the jeans and went to pull the shirt over my head. “Do you know anything about Neo’s parents? Maybe they’re in on it. Maybe his house is where they’re keeping Erin and her parents.” It was a foolish hope, for that to be the case; if it was true, it’d be almost too simple.
“I don’t know anything about his parents,” he muttered. “But I’m sure my uncles are going to look into them after they finish up at the house. You and me, we’re going home.” He hopped off the bed, took the duffel bag with him, and walked to the bathroom, where it sounded like he stuffed the bloodied clothes and the towel Alistair had used to clean me off into said bag.
