Chapter 47
Peeing together is staying together. Right? Is that how the saying goes?
Eh, whatever.
I wave a hand and lean back on the couch in the corner of our living room. The sweet, comfy couch I insisted on when we bought this cabin as a hideout. Jericho only wanted a bed. Nothing else. Fucking weirdo.
We need lots of surfaces to fuck Journey on.
The bed. The couch. The kitchen cabinets. The shower. Every fucking surface will be tainted by my taint and bodily fluids.
I grin. I want to stay here forever. Fuck the wars and bloodshed. Fuck Gabriel and his weird shit. Just give me the mountains, my girl's pussy, and endless food—I’ll be in Heaven.
Who needs death and murder, anyway?
Ah, well. I guess I do. It soothes my soul and makes me complete. I don’t think I could ever completely toss away mayhem for domestic bliss. Could I?
I blow out a breath. There goes my plan to stay in this sex cabin, tie my Kitten up spread eagle until she’s got so many cream pies she’s dripping with our combined juices. Ah, yes. Now, that would be a sight to see.
Oh, there goes Big A trying to enter the chat. Down, boy. We’re only in fantasy mode. Besides, if she’s knocked up, I’ll have to be careful. How careful, though?
Wait a damn minute.
Will Big A poke the baby’s head during sex? I recoil. I fucking hope not. My kid will lose an eye before he’s even born. And there’s no way I can deny my Kitten anything. I’ve read pregnant women are super horny all the time. Damn it. All my baby books are stashed at the mansion, filled with information I could use now.
All the more reason to leave this cabin and fuck Gabriel’s life up. Fuck tranquility and endless sex. Okay, maybe not that last part. But still. That over-inflated fucker took our home. Now, I need to take back my pregnancy books if he hasn’t destroyed them yet.
Shepp snaps his fingers in front of my face to gain my attention. Poor Sheppy Boy. His metal rings, the ones he kept on him for so long, are missing. I’m sure his daddy is to blame for stealing them away, so he’s forced to use his voice. Not that he ever has. The gentle giant hasn’t spoken a word since we were kids. How I miss the soft, soothing sound of his voice. I shake my head, coming back to myself. Damn, I need more sleep. Or my girl.
‘What the hell are you grinning about?’ Shepp signs with a scowl, watching my relaxed state.
“Oh, nothing.” Nothing at all. I’m innocent. “Only about fucking my Kitten on every surface in this house. Over and over and…”
“Arrow,” she groans, throwing her head back.
Yeah, Kitten. Just like that. Twenty-four-seven fuck fest.
“Yeah, exactly! You’ll say my name just like that,” I quip, pointing in her direction.
She’s gotten mighty cozy in our cabin, wearing nothing but long shirts, panties, and fuzzy socks. No pants. My favorite outfit. Shepp made sure she was comfortable before he made us all lunch. He’s like a little mother hen—but not so little—taking care of us all. Our keeper. Sans Jericho, of course. He was on a mission to forget his mommy was a psycho with Shepp’s dad and took off.
I wonder if their parents ever boned? Hmmm. Probably. I mean, if they’re in cahoots, there has to be pussy involved. Right?
“You think your evil sperm donor and Jer’s mommy ever fucked?” I ask, using my fingers to create the motion.
Shaking his head with a huff, Shepp signs, ‘You're impossible.’
His nose wrinkles. Oh, yeah. He’s thinking about it now. In full fucking detail, by the paleness of his face. Sorry, fucker. If I have to see it. So do you. We’re all scarred for life thinking about Thomas and Grace doing the nasty.
“Tell me something I don’t know, Sheppy Boy.” I grin when he runs a hand down his face in exasperation.
He missed me. I know he did. I missed him, too. Pushing his buttons and earning the finger from him are two of my favorite hobbies. Among other things, of course. He’s so easy to rile up. But I love the big lug. Jericho, too. Apparently, I’m full of love for the people of my little family. Something I never thought I’d possess.
My brows scrunch. When did this feeling take over? It’s like my heart is in overdrive, pounding against my ribs. Squeezing the breaths from my lungs every time I think about them getting hurt or taken. An entity has possessed my soul, lighting it with this lifting feeling. Love. I’m fucking in love. Infatuated. Obsessed. I could dance right here in the living room, but that might get me more stares.
Journey rolls her eyes and gets up from the seat across from us with a disgusted look. Why she didn’t just sit on my lap to snuggle is beyond me. Rude, actually. I need to touch my Kitten every second of every day, especially after being away from her for so long.
She may be Jer’s wife on paper. Reluctantly, might I add. Because she didn’t sign up for that voluntarily. He did it right under her nose. All our noses, actually. Bastard. I rub my chin with a frown. I need to up my game and tie his ass to a chair again. That familiar rage I felt before sizzles through me. I need to make him fucking suffer more. She’s mine, too. I licked her first in the club. Oh, then at the party when my fingers found her pussy. Then, my dick. Speaking of. I look down at Big A standing at attention in my pants. If I think about fucking her anymore, I’ll explode prematurely.
Down, boy. Don’t embarrass me. Not yet.
Shepp watches Journey with soft eyes as she strolls across the living room, following her every move. Fucking stalker. Ah, who am I kidding? I’m watching her, too—the sway of her ass and the jiggle of her thighs. God, I want to bite her.
You know, I think the three of us balance this relationship out. Giving Journey different pieces of the Devil’s cake. Shepp gives her all the affection she can swallow. Food? Safety? Getting Painted? He’s got her covered. Jericho… Well, I’m still mad at him. Not only for leaving me behind but marrying her against her will. That’s my job. I’m the one who forces her into things she doesn’t approve of. So, Jericho? He doesn’t deserve a long monologue on how he has her covered. Me, though? I deserve at least three paragraphs on how I let her stab me. Wound me. Over and over. She can do anything to me and Big A will always rise to the occasion—also, me. I’ll always have her back. And front. Oh, and her side, too. Because I fucking love her. That organ inside me beating rapidly only does it for her. If she says jump off a cliff. I’ll ask which rock she wants me to fall into.
I’m just that nice of a psycho. Anything for her.
And Journey?
My vicious Kitten is our ooey gooey center, like a cookie. And I like to eat cookies. A lot. I also like to eat her. A lot. God, I have so many plans to bring her to orgasm. It’s too bad all my damn toys were left at the mansion under the mattress, in the closet, in the drawers, and in the basement. One day, I’ll take her to my special room and show her all the fun things I do to bad people down there.
I smirk, stalking Journey with my eyes. “Oh! Where ya going, Kitten? Need a hand?” I wiggle my brows.
She thinks I’m implying sex. I so could be. Okay, I totally am. I wouldn’t deny her a ride on Big A if she wanted. I’d tie her up and…
No. I have a very important mission to accomplish.
Unless she needs a pussy massage with my dick. I’m down. Only after I force her to pee on the magical stick in my pants—not my dick—so we can find out if she’s preggers. Preggo. Swollen with our baby.
My Kitten would be so beautiful, thick, and engorged with the baby we planted there.
I waited for Jer to come home to set my plan in motion. AKA–force Journey to pee on a pregnancy test in front of my eyes. Creepy? Nah. She’s used to my antics by now. So, as Jer talks on the phone outside, pacing back and forth while conducting business, I’ll use the pregnancy tests I eagerly plucked from the backseat of his truck to initiate my plan.
And if she’s not pregnant right now? I’m locking her ass down, and those cream pies are happening over and over until the test gives us a plus sign.
Journey twists her face. “Um. No? I’m going to pee. Why are you being so weird?”
Weird? I am not weird. I’m Arrow. Deadly. Unhinged. Powerful. Sexy. Never weird. Okay, that’s a lie. My dad used to call me weird behind my back sometimes. My heart aches. I think that hurt more than anything. I tried so hard to be the perfect church-going boy for him and never seemed to be who he wanted me to be. Too many dead animal experiments and impulsive acts to be anything that Vincent Amour would ever want.
Bummer. I’ve made myself feel the sadness I’ve hidden behind my mask. One day, my dad and I will patch things up completely. He’s still my dad, after all. And I think after being apart for so many years, he loves me. I guess I love him, too. No matter the childhood he gave me. He’s made up for it by learning to embrace me as I am.
Shepp smacks me again . ‘Why the hell are you rubbing your nipple?’
I look down with a frown. Huh. I was circling my right nipple while thinking about Journey. Definitely not my dad. It’s all hard and wanting now. What I wouldn’t give for a clamp or tongue. Oh! Or Journey’s teeth on it.
‘Journey?’ I spell her name with a grin, earning an eye roll.
‘You’re being sus right now.’ He glares at me hard, trying to figure out what I’m up to. That's not happening, big guy. I’m a psycho on a mission, and you can’t stop me. ‘Why are you sticking your tongue out at me?’ His face twists again when I put my tongue back in my mouth. How elementary of me. No matter. I got shits to do and a certain lady to force to pee. Easy peasy. Actually, I think she might chop me into pieces.
Whatever. Worth it!
“I’m not being weird.” I offer her my best grin as she steps away from me toward the bathroom. ‘Or sus,’ I sign back to him and promptly flip him off.
Shepp huffs. ‘Yeah. You’re being weird as fuck, dude. Weirder than normal,’ Shepp signs, leaning back on the couch. ‘What exactly are you planning?’
Jericho probably intended on Shepp keeping me guarded while he conducts business in the driveway. Blah. Blah. Blah. Jer’s on the phone, and Shepp’s not moving from this couch, It's not happening right now. I have one mission in mind.
Operation pee on a stick is underway.
I grin, shrugging, as I get up from the couch. “Just mind your business,” I chuckle, moving behind Journey stealthily as she enters the bathroom and then shuts the door without locking it. Score! She’s so clueless about the predator creeping up behind her.
Shepp won’t mind his business. He’s a goddamn busybody. He always puts his nose where it doesn’t belong. It’s good for us and the family business. He’s always sussing out the bad guys and removing them from the club. But here? I can feel his eyes on me, stalking me through the living room as I disappear into the bedroom and stand outside the bathroom door, grinning more. If I don’t lock my Kitten and me behind this door asap, Shepp is going to drag me away kicking and screaming. I’m not above biting him.
In my head, I count down as I stare at the wooden door. I’ll give her five seconds to start and... I shove through the bathroom door, leaving it open. Silly goose forgot to lock it. It's such a shame. A tragedy. For her, anyway. My sitting duck is officially caught with her pants down and butt cheeks on the toilet.
Perfect.
“Do you fucking mind? Arrow!” she howls, covering up her lady bits in horror with a cute red blush covering her face.
She’s so damn precious. My pretty Kitty, hiding herself from the big bad Devil. What? Like, I’ve never seen pee before. I’ve seen it plenty of times. From myself. My victims. Everyone pees. Poops. Cums. Bleeds. Screams. Humans are magical, like liquid pinatas ready for my knife.
“No need to hide yourself from me, Kitten. I’ve eaten, fucked, sucked, and so much more to that general area. It’s my favorite.” I grin more when she scowls. “In fact, I could take you into the bedroom after this, and we could play a game I call hide the sausage. The sausage being my dick. And your pussy being the bun.” I bat my eyelashes in her direction, hoping she won’t be mad.
But she’s definitely mad.
Her face twists in horror now. Anger and outrage replace the cute blush. Bummer. We could have had lots of fun. Not that this won’t be the cherry on top.
“Arrow. Is there a fucking reason you’re trying to watch me pee?” she growls, gritting her teeth together.
“Can’t I watch?” I ask, puffing out my bottom lip.
This so isn’t weird. Nope. Not at all. Perfectly normal in the realm of Arrow.
“No! That’s fucking… fucking weird! Oh my God,” she screeches as footsteps approach. Her eyes scan the horizon, practically begging me to shut the door. Or she wants Shepp to step in and sweep her off her feet. Sheppy Boy to the rescue with his cape to take our girl away from me.
Not happening. She’s all mine right now. Bonding moment and all.
“Don’t bother,” I say, grinning at Shepp as he approaches with a frown. His steps get faster and his long legs bring him closer. “I’ve got this covered!” I shout, slamming the door in his face and locking it. He pounds several times, rattling the door and its frame. I’m sure he’d break through the wood if he tried hard enough. “You should learn to lock doors,” I say, pointing at the doorknob. “Bad, bad, Kitten.”
“Arrow,” she says with a heavy sigh that expands her chest up and down. God. Her tits are enormous. Does she still fit in her bra? Maybe I should take her shopping downtown and force her to try some new ones on, and then I can peel them off with my teeth. “My eyes are up here,” she quips with agitation, shifting slightly in her vulnerable position.
Right. Her eyes. She has those. Two of them, to be exact. I should totally look at those gorgeous moss-green orbs in her head and not her rising tits or exposed pussy covered by her hands. I’m slightly jealous of the toilet water getting to glimpse her right now when I haven’t peeked since we fucked at the wedding. It’s unfair. I want my turn with her. To comfort her after what she went through. To fuck her for so long, she forgets she was covered in blood and fought for her life at one point.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch me pee? Like, is this a new thing?” she asks, bringing me back to the conversation, waving a finger at me wearily. There’s a slight intrigue in her eyes. She’s desperate to know what I’m throwing down in here. Or weary. I can’t be so sure. She’s used to my antics by now, though.
“Nope,” I say with a grin, reaching into my back pocket and producing the baby test. “I want to hold this while you pee.”
I think that’s the best sentence I’ve ever uttered. Her face tells me that, too. She’s stunned into silence, blinking rapidly while looking between me and the test.
“That’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me. And you’ve said some pretty weird shit,” she gripes, shaking her head when I step forward and kneel in front of her.
Ah, that’s better. I can finally see the hairs above her pussy peeking out. Unkempt from her time in captivity. I wonder if she’d let me shave those for her?
“Seriously, Arrow.”
“Seriously, Journey,” I say, peering deep into her eyes, silently pleading with her to give me this. Just this once. Okay, there will be more times. She doesn’t have to know that yet. “Will you let me?”
She sighs heavily, staring at me with a blank expression. Yes! It’s a sign she’s giving in to me and my crazy ways.
“I have a shy fucking bladder,” she grits out, shaking her head before staring up at the ceiling. “But you won’t leave until we do this, will you?” Nope. Not at all. I’ll stay in this position until she can’t hold it any longer.
I always get what I want.
I grin in response, uncapping the pregnancy test and holding it between her legs. Wait, is this where her urine comes out? Probably. I need to study the chart that the poor gynecologist gave me before I took his hands. That way, I can deliver our future children—all eighteen of them—safely, of course.
“Go ahead,” I say, urging her to get on with it.
“I literally can’t go with you staring at me like that,” she hisses, grabbing my wrist and attempting to push me away.
Ah, ah, ah, Kitten. Not cool. You can’t make me leave now. This has to happen! Staring at her like what? I shake my head and fix my expression. Maybe my smile is off-putting. So, I hide it with a pout.
“Ah, ah. I’m not leaving until you’ve peed on this stick, Kitten. I gotta know if I’m a daddy.” Ah, that magical word. Daddy. I’d love it if Journey called me that in bed when I’m pounding her from behind. Well, fuck. Down, Big A. Now, is not the time to look turned on. She’s already going to chop you to bits later. We have to watch our back.
“Why are you staring at your crotch? Arrow? Please don’t tell me…”
“It’s not your pee, it’s the fucking I was imagining. Oh! And the word Daddy, too. Would you ever call me that while I slapped your ass?” I cock my head.
“Jesus Christ. This will never happen. Arrow, let me take it.” Exhaustion leaks from her words. My poor Kitten needs a nice nap and snack. Later. After she does this, I’ll give her everything she’s ever dreamed of. Back rubs. Shoulder rubs. Pussy rubs. You name it, and my Kitten will get it.
I stare between her legs with a frown. “But I want to hold it.” So, I can find out if she’s pregnant before her, and then I can tell her the good news. She’d love that. Right?
“Arrow,” Jericho’s voice echoes from outside the door. Well, shit. It seems like Sheppy Boy went and told on me. Silent bastard. “Shepp says you’re being more abnormal than usual.”
My brows furrow when I look at Journey, and she snorts, covering her face with her hands. “We’re just working something out in here,” she says calmly, sucking in a breath.
That’s my girl. See? I knew there was a reason I loved my Kitten with my whole dick and heart. She sticks up for me. Some people have a problem with my unique attributes—mostly the men I murder. But, meh. Semantics. They’re just upset because I took their lives. This is different. Better.
“You sure about that?” Jericho asks impatiently. He is most likely gritting his damn teeth. That’s all he’s done since we’ve been separated. Maybe I should punch him again so he knocks it off. That would help, right? Violence is always the answer. I can’t believe I ever thought I could live without it. It’s woven into my damn DNA. “I can get the goddamn key.” Oh, so threatening. I’m shaking in my nonexistent boots.
“My Kitten said we’re fine. Maybe we’re doing some solo sexy time that doesn’t require your assistance.” That can be after this. I’ll strip her down, bend her over the sink, and have my wicked way with her with my tongue. Then I’d fuck her into oblivion. She’d forget this entire interaction existed.
“That’s it, asshole. I’m getting the key,” Jericho grunts as his footsteps travel away from the door.
Good. That gets him out of the way momentarily. But then again. That means he’ll be back and open the door. It's time to get this show on the road or pee out of the bladder. Whatever.
“I need you to turn on the faucet and stop looking directly into my eyes,” she hisses, gesturing toward the sink behind me. I reach over and turn it on. The sound of running water fills the room.
“Better?” I ask, grinning.
“No. Close your eyes.” She waggles her finger at me. “And don’t move. I have to pretend like you’re not even here,” she mutters, more to herself with a huff.
My eyes squeeze shut, and I relax, kneeling in front of her as I should be. She’s my queen, after all. Hopefully, this test will give us all the things we’ve talked about in the past. Knocking Journey up. Having eighteen babies. One after another. Or maybe the eighteen thing was something I thought up all on my own.
Journey pregnant. Journey pregnant again. And again. Hmmm. I count how many kids we can have from now until we’re old and ripe. I’d take care of her every time. Feed her. Bathe her. Rub lotion on her back, stomach, and feet. God, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her. As soon as she popped one out, I’d put another one in there. I could get her a cum plug and force all our sperm to stay where it belongs—in her uterus.
“There,” Journey sighs, pushing my hand away from between her legs. “You’re supposed to cap it now and let it sit.” She waves me away, and I do just that, making sure I don’t get any pee on me, and then wash my hands. “Most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done. By the way, this is never happening again,” she grumbles, wiping and then standing to pull up her pants. “And that better be negative, or your balls are going in the blender.” She sends me a seething glare as the bathroom door swings open, letting my pissed-off Kitten out of her cage.
“Well, no Big A for you, Kitten. You can’t just threaten him like that,” I say, clicking my tongue at her with a grin.
She folds her arms over her chest as Jericho and Shepp lean into the large bathroom. I’m sure Shepp has learned the full extent of my antics by now. He doesn’t seem too eager to save her. In fact, Jericho and Shepp look smug as fuck, watching her pout while tapping her foot. Mmmm. I love the sight of her like this.
I’ve missed her so damn much.
Now, I’m never letting her go. Ever.
“Can I get some water or something? Or are you two going to kidnap me into the bathroom, too, and force me to pee on a stick?” she grumbles with hostility.
Add mood swings to her ever-growing list of pregnancy symptoms. And check.
“Aren’t you eager to see the positive sign, Kitten?” I ask, peering down at the stupid test that hasn’t given me an answer yet. Work faster!
“It’ll take about two minutes to show up, and I’m thirsty. Besides, I’m not pregnant. It was the stress of starving and being in the dark and shit.”
That perks me up. Not in a good way, either. Journey has yet to discuss what happened to her and Shepp in Shadow’s captivity. They’ve both been tight-lipped, avoiding the questions we’ve had for them. Granted, we haven’t had all the time in the world to properly discuss this with each other.
But to drop a bomb like that? Fuck me. He’s dead. There’s no getting out of here for him. I’m going to make him suffer so hard that he won’t be able to come back from it, even if he could. It's a good thing I turned out the lights and only left him with that annoying swinging bulb. I’ll continue to starve him, too. And to think, I would be a good little captor and let him eat a sandwich. Fat chance that’s happening now. Or any time soon. His body can eat itself for all I care.
“Did you say starving and the dark?” Jericho practically vibrates, turning his entire body toward her.
Even the hairs on my neck stand on end when he utters those dangerous words. Time to deflect and get back on track with what we’re doing. There’s no sense in getting pissed off now. Or that’s what I tell myself, at least. We can harness that anger for later and direct it at the dickbag that deserves it. Besides, there are better things to do right now.
“It’s okay, Jer. We’ve got him downstairs. Whatever he did to her, we can take it out on him repeatedly. Slowly, too. You think he’ll want his toes?” I hum, looking down at the test again with a huff. “I could make them into a pretty necklace. A gift for you, Kitten. You liked Leighton’s fingers and teeth, right?” That loathsome little bastard doesn’t deserve to have fingers at all. It’s too bad I couldn’t permanently relieve him of those, like Lori’s husband.
Speaking of. I wonder what old Leighton is up to right now. Jer let me in on the little secret one night about Chloe Satin and him in an arranged marriage set up by his father. Where does that leave ole’ Leighton? They were in love, after all.
Journey turns a putrid green, gagging slightly. She sucks in a breath, shaking her head at me with narrowed eyes. “No. I don’t want a necklace of toes,” she grits out.
Oh, I made her angry and disgusted. Add morning sickness to the list of her symptoms. Check!
Shepp sidesteps and holds a hand for her to take, which she gladly does. They join hands and leave the bathroom together, side by side.
“I’ll let you know how it goes!” I yell after them as they take off into the kitchen and grab some water. “I have a good feeling about this, Daddy Jer. It’s like my balls know what’s happening.”
“Your balls?” he asks skeptically and checks his watch. “How long has it been?” See? Even he doesn’t care I just forced his wife to pee on a stick. We’re on the same page. In sync. Two brothers want their wife to be pregnant.
“Oh, probably two minutes…” I trail off, staring down at the test with a grin.
I hoist it into the air with a small whoop and do a little dance, much to the agitation of Jericho, who snatches it away with a huff. Staring down at the test, he looks up at me with what I can only assume is a pleased smile. I nod.
“Get ready to throw a funeral for your genitals,” I quip. “We’re gonna have one mad baby mama.”