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Baron holds power, and he tells them to worship me as queen, so they do. What they don’t realize is that I obey and serve him every bit as much as they do. They may not know I’m powerless, but Baron absolutely does.
So what could he possibly gain from torturing me all semester?
I shudder at the memories of all the evil deeds I’ve seen him do, the schemes I’ve been called to take part in, the things he’s done to me. There is no end to his depravity, and there’s no use trying to figure him out. Only another sociopath could understand the workings of his inhuman mind.
“Need a ride, Lo?” Duke asks behind me.
I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, forcing myself not to scream. I wanted to get out of here, to slide behind the wheel of June Bug and go for a drive, figure all this out.
“I drove this morning, remember?” I ask, keeping my tone light and casual. No use giving them a reason to pounce.
He throws an arm around my shoulders. “You hear that?”
“Hear what?” I ask, smiling up at him, so anyone leaving their senior projects early will see us the way the Dolces want them to.
“The sound of my back seat calling,” Duke says with a grin.
“I don’t hear that,” I say, noticing from the corner of my eye that Colt is watching.
“Come on, we finished early,” Duke points out. “Which means we’ve got a little time before your sisters get out of class, and Baron’s got some Swans business to take care of.”
Colt is still beside us, and I fantasize about clawing his eyes out with my new set of nails. He needs to mind his own fucking business. But I fix the smile on my face as Baron splits off to go do whatever he does for the school’s secret society.
“Just the two of us?” I purr up at Duke, running my fingertips down the front of his white shirt and pretending I don’t even know that Colt is still with us.
“Yep,” Duke says, tightening his arm around my shoulder. “I’m all yours, babe.”
I force myself not to glance at Colt before we push through the doors of the school and into the sweltering sauna of September heat. In his Hummer, Duke turns the air on full blast, then hops into the back seat and undoes his navy slacks, pulling his dick out. I take a breath and resist the urge to let out a sigh of annoyance. Instead, I grip his floppy dick and get to work with a smile on my face.
Just like Jackie.
When he’s hard, I have to wrap both my hands around his shaft so I don’t choke to death on his length. God, these boys are freaking enormous. I hollow out my cheeks and go all in, deep throating him with each stroke, hoping to get it over with as fast as possible.
“Get on the floor,” he growls, his fingers twining into my hair.
I slide off the seat and kneel on the floor at his feet, though I hate what he’s about to do. I keep bobbing up and down, slobbering on his dick like the thirsty bitch he wants me to be.
“Fuck, I like the way you look with my cock in your mouth,” he says, still fisting my hair and pumping my mouth over his dick. Ignoring my aching jaw and burning scalp, I focus on breathing and keeping suction while he takes control of my head and sets the tempo.
A minute later, his hips rise off the seat, and he yanks me off his dick. I let it slip from my mouth with an audible pop, just the way he likes. He jerks my head back, grabs his cock with his other hand, and groans as his hot cum spurts over my upturned face. I squeeze my eyes closed and let my jaw go slack, even though I want to clench my teeth and growl at him that I’ve told him a thousand times how much cum in the eye fucking hurts.
When he’s done, and his cum is drenching my face, pooling in my eyes and dripping into my mouth and down my chin, he releases my hair.
“Fuck, you’re good at that,” he says. “Stay there. I want to look at you while I cool off.”
I obey, remaining in place while he catches his breath. I even lick the corners of my mouth to give him a little reward for not being a complete barbarian like his brothers. He groans in response, then hooks his hands under my arms and drags me back onto the seat.
“Give me my purse,” I say, reaching out blindly.
He hands it over, and I dig through and find my pack of wipes. I clean out my eye sockets, but as soon as I open them, I know I wasn’t fast enough. While he caught his breath, it leaked through my lids, and they burn like the devil pissed in them.
“Good call,” he says. “Dude who details my car is probably tired of getting cum out of the floormats.”
I glare at him and pull out another wipe, swiping it over my cheeks and chin.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re going to give me pinkeye,” I snap. “I told you not to get it in my eyes.”
