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“I want my letters,” I grit out, attempting to buck him off me again, but it doesn’t work. He’s too strong and pushes me further into the mud. Those were the main items I was searching for tonight when I ransacked their house.
“Your letters. You hear that, boys? She wants her letters,” he goads again, looking up at the other two when the storm completely lets up, and the rain stops pelting us. “Who are the letters from? Why're they so important to you?”
Nothing but the wind howls as they chuckle above my helpless body, stuck under Jericho’s weight.
“Let me cut your clothes off, Kitten. Then we can discuss letters. First, we need to punish you with our dicks,” Arrow says, yanking the small knife right out of his chest as small amounts of blood stain his black shirt. He holds it up in the moonlight, inspecting the blood on the shiny metal. “From our own kitchen, too.” He clicks his tongue at me.
I swallow my protests when Jericho circles his hips, grinding against me.
“Stay still now,” Jericho murmurs, slightly pulling back. He releases my hands but gives me a stern look. “And keep those above your head. If I had ropes, I’d tie you to a fucking tree and have my way with you,” he grins like a madman. “But for now, Shepp will hold your wrists while I dole out your spankings. Bad, bad, girl.”
Fuck. Goosebumps erupt over my flesh as he delivers his words. Shepp's large hand replaces Jericho's when he kneels beside my head. Now, I'm completely surrounded.
“Stay perfectly still, Kitten. Although, I do enjoy a blood bath. I’d rather not cut something so precious to me,” Arrow hums in a low, throaty tone when he falls to his knees beside me. The bloodied knife gleams in the moonlight, reflecting its rays. He leans down right next to my face, looking me over. “Although, your blood would look beautiful on my dick as lube.” He grins. “I've already called dibs on your ass, Kitten.”
I stiffen, opening my mouth to protest. But I'm cut off.
Jericho hums, “Her blood was on my dick first. Despite the toy you loved to use on yourself, it didn't do anything.” A sharp shiver rolls through me when he looks my body over with predatory intent. “It was fucking magic.”
Before I can respond, Arrow presses his lips to mine, overtaking me. And I may be as fucked up as them because my back arches and flesh tingles. Like I've come home and belong in the arms of these psychotic masked men.
My breath heaves when he pulls back, lovingly moving my hair from my face.
“Aren't you going to get stitches?” I whisper, nodding toward his chest.
He grins. “What's another scar, Kitten? Only this one I'll remember forever as the moment my girl stabbed me in defense. Good aim, by the way.” He grins more with pride, running a finger down my face.
“We'll patch him up when we're done,” Jericho mumbles, holding out his hand. “Give me the knife.”
Without protest, Arrow hands over the knife. I lick my lips when Jericho takes it, running his fingers over the bloodied parts and hums.
“Now, you're going to pay for your insubordination. You ran from us. You didn't trust us to lead you to your possessions. So now, we're going to play a game.”
His grin sends shivers down my spine, but what he does next has me panting.
I don't dare move. Breathe. Wiggle my toes. Or utter a protest. Not when a knife rests under my chin, threatening to cut me.
Since taking the weapon I so kindly provided from the kitchen, Jericho has made quick work of my shirt and jeans, cutting right through them with ease. Leaving me fully exposed in just my bra and panties.
He could have at least taken them off the normal way. But there's nothing normal about the Devils. Especially him.
“Don't worry, we’ll buy you more,” Jericho hums in promise, running the tip of the knife between my breasts. I shiver. “And more of these,” he says, cutting straight through the middle of my bra.
Night air blows over my nipples, hardening them when Arrow gleefully removes the cups of my bra to the side. Exposing my tits to the night air and them.
I swear their eyes dilate in the moonlight as I lie in the mud at their mercy.
Excitement spears through me. Yet fear runs through my blood. The Devils. If everything they said was true, which I’m pretty certain I believe, then, I fucked the most dangerous men in the city while blindfolded, losing my virginity to them.
And I have no regrets.
“Beautiful,” Jericho says, focusing the edge of the knife along my tattoo. He traces the flowers blooming and the vines weaving through the large skeleton key, hiding my biggest secret. “What an intricate tattoo, Little Chaos. But what's hiding underneath?”
My secrets. My villain origin story, leading to the darkness I've been forced to carry inside.
Heat fills my cheeks when he shoots me a knowing look, directing the edge of the knife over my scar.
“Who did the tattoo?” Arrow asks, popping his knuckles. “I need to rip their eyeballs out and put them in a jar for even looking at your tits. Those are ours now.”
