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They were so delicious.
My teeth raked against the bundle of nerves, forcing a guttural cry from their mouth. I then sucked it into my mouth—hard—before I continued fucking me.
They kneeled over me, their hands flying to my hair.It wasn’t enough/. I needed to see that beautiful crying face of theirs.
I picked up the vibrator again, placing it on their clit. That was the last straw for them. They thrashed around. Bucked their hips. Cries fell from their lips louder and more frequently than before.
As soon as my hand pushed against the bulbous head, their orgasm finally overcame them.
Tears fell then, finally.
Started at the corner of their eyes. Their face a mix of pain and pleasure as they cried out for me. They came easily. One after another running down their face as they attempted to gasp for air.
“God, you look so good with tears running down your face,” I said, my still wet hand coming up to wipe them.
“Enough, Vic, please.”
“Enough? I don’t think this is nearly en—”
The boat jerked and made both of us fall. Kohl caught themselves just before they crushed me, both of us looking back at the tunnel.
“Someone must have turned it on,” I whispered. “Get dressed!”
Kohl jerkily put their clothes back on, body still not fully recovered from the show we just gave. The boat was slow enough that we were able to jump off before entering the tunnel.
As soon as we were off, Kohl took the time to check their comments.
I hadn’t liked how it ended so soon, but Kohl was right. This had been a perfect way to get my head back in the game.
I just hoped I’d have more time to play with my toy before the games ended.
“Later,” I said, pushing them back toward the entrance. “We have a Hider to kill.”
Kohl
Before the Games
Afucking dinner?
Was Dylan planning to make itofficialor something?
I shifted in my seat, trying not to look Father in the eyes as he sat down, taking his place at the head of the table. We’d been going through one of those multi-week fights again. The ones where he forgot just how angry he was until he looked me in the eyes.
This time it’d started over me making a snide comment when we had company over. Charlene—the Inner Circle member du jour that my father was ass-kissing—laughed it off, but Father saw through it.
What the woman brushed off as a joke, he saw the malice underneath. Something that someone in hisposition, a man vying for the top, wouldn’t stand for.
Luckily, he was still on a phone call, his voice echoing throughout the dining room.
I cast a glance at the empty seats in front of me, trying not to let my temper bubble. Instead of the normal single plate placed carefully for Dylan, there was an extra.
It didn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to figure out who it was for.
The only thing making this evening even worse than it was, was that he decided to bring her tothisdinner. The one where Father would get to stand up, making his stupid fucking speech about how hard he had worked to provide us a life, and then let us know that hefinallygot the title of Architect.
It wasn’t a surprise, though. He had been vying for this position for a long time and made the whole goddamn house aware whenever hewasn’tchosen. Sometimes it took the cleaning crew weeks to clean up the mess from the fallout. Last time they had to replace multiple spots of drywall.
I had marked this day on my calendar for years as a reminder to prepare myself for the inevitable. But this time around, when promotions were handed out, the house had been oddly quiet. There was no shouting. No punching holes in walls. No need to hide as Father searched for something to take his anger out on.
