Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“INTO IT” BY CHASE ATLANTIC
TARL
Isit back in my chair, swirling the amber liquid as I watch the others, amusement tickling my lips and pulling them upward.
Jude is practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, the evidence of his arousal at having our bird trapped in her glass coffin clearly outlined in his velvet pants.
Knox seems the least happy, his own glass of whiskey clenched tightly in his fingers, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares into the glass.
Perhaps he is seeking answers, or maybe absolution.
Aeron, well, our unflappable leader looks cool as the proverbial cucumber.
To anyone outside of our group anyway, but his jaw is tight and his nostrils flared, which lets me know he's not as unaffected as he's trying to present. Interesting.
“Sit the fuck down, Jude,” he snarls at his brother, the words cracking across the room like a whip. My lips tilt upwards further at his command. “And you can stop fucking smirking, Inquisitor.”
My smile drops, the name that I've earned myself grating on my skin for the first time since it was bestowed on me many years ago.
I've only myself to blame I suppose. My penchant for using methods favored by the Spanish Inquisition back in the sixteenth century to extract any information we need is legendary.
My eyelids narrow when Aeron's own lips twitch upwards.
“Just ignore the grumpy bastard, babe,” Jude purrs, depositing himself on my lap and wrapping his arms around my neck, my drink spilling onto my hand.
I raise an eyebrow at him, my chastisement clear.
“His blue balls are giving him trouble, and only a certain Dove can warm them up,” he continues, letting go of my neck and raising my hand to his mouth.
Not looking away from my mismatched eyes, he licks and sucks the alcohol from my hand and fingers, using his other hand to steal my glass and then down the rest of my drink. He doesn't swallow, just leans in and places his lips against my own.
Still staring into his beautiful, ocean-colored eyes, I part my lips, letting the shot flow into my mouth, warmed by his own.
The slight burn of the whiskey is a welcome reminder of the blood that continues to run through my veins.
My dick hardens in my slacks, imagining another set of soft lips against my own, her body pliable and aching for me.
“You feel it with her too, don't you?” Jude murmurs against my lips, pulling away, still holding my gaze.
I don't answer, admitting my curiosity about the bird in our basement feels like an admission of weakness somehow, but he sees through my omission, the grin spreading his plump lips telling me that like Aeron, I too cannot hide what I feel for her.
“On your knees,” I order, my voice gruff and my cock as hard as fucking steel in my trousers.
“Yes, sir,” Jude replies, slipping from my lap and grabbing my shirt as he does, tearing the buttons off as he rips it open.
“Brat,” I comment without heat, exhaling loudly a minute later as he nips and kisses my abs, paying special attention to my Tailor's tattoo just over my hip. Fuck, he's so good at the foreplay, knowing just how to wind me tighter, leaving me desperate for him.
I watch as he undoes my belt, the sound of the metal clasp loud in the quiet room.
“For fuck’s sake! Can you not fuck in the living room?” Aeron spits out, and I lift my gaze to lock on his eyes, so similar yet so different from his brother's.
“He's not fucking me, just choking on my dick a little,” I reply, my voice groaning at the end as Jude makes a truth of my words and swallows me whole in one go proving that he is indeed a pro.
I hold his older brother's stare with hooded eyes as Jude goes to town on my cock, paying close attention to the Prince Albert piercing at the tip.
My hand tangles in Jude's midnight hair, holding him in place as I bury my shaft to the hilt down his throat.
He relaxes like the psycho that he is as I continue to cut off his air supply, still staring into Aeron's eyes.
There's anger in their blue depths. There's always a banked rage, but I can see heat there too.
Dirty bastard is getting horny over his brother giving me a blowie.
“Jude can do you next, if you like?” I suggest in a breathy voice, feeling my release inch closer at the idea. I never said I wasn't a sick bastard too. Jude's vision must be spotting by now, but I feel his lips lift at my comment. He likes to bait his brother just as much as the rest of us.
“Fuck off,” Aeron snarls, slamming his glass down hard enough to shatter, the pieces skittering across the polished wood floor, before storming out of the room. I don't miss the hard length in his own pants, or that he heads to the basement door.
I finally let Jude up to breathe, and he gasps down air, chuckling before sucking me down again as he works my base with a corkscrew motion that he knows drives me wild.
“You two have a fucking death wish,” Knox says, shaking his head as he adjusts himself, setting his glass aside.
“Don't let us stop you from taking care of yourself,” I groan out, my head falling back as I let the waves of ecstasy that Jude's mouth is causing flow over me.
A few moments of the slurping and sucking sounds that Jude's making fills the space before I hear a mumbled, “fuck it,” and I crack my eyes open to see Knox pulling out his impressive length and gripping it in a tight fist.
I buck my hips at the sight, appreciating the erotic image as he watches us, pumping his hand up and down his hard dick.
My hand tightens in Jude's hair, my hips thrusting forward as I pour my release down his throat and he swallows every damn drop like he's desperate for it. My chest heaves and he doesn't let up, licking and sucking until I chuckle and push him away. It's just too damn much.
Sitting back on his heels with a smug as fuck grin, I see his own climax glistening on his beautiful, chiselled stomach, his dick softening in his lap.
“Oh, fuck!” Knox grunts out, and we both look over to see hot cum spurt out of his tip, covering his abs and chest, his T-shirt raised. It's a beautiful sight, the pleasure on his face is almost enough to make me hard again.
“Want me to clean you up, big boy?” Jude asks, licking his freshly fucked lips. Knox huffs out a laugh, his own closed lids lifting as a sexy, satisfied smile graces his lips.
“What is your obsession with my dick?”
“It's just so big and pretty,” Jude pouts, then faces me fully and bats his lashes. “Variety is the spice of life, after all.”
“Brat,” I tell him again, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his puffy mouth, loving that my taste lingers there.
Knox just laughs again—cocky fucker—before getting up.
“I'm going to go clean up,” he tells us, heading to the stairs that lead up to our rooms.
“Nightingale will get him to share the cock love,” Jude says aloud, getting up himself and cracking his neck. “You coming to bed?” He looks down at me, and I shake my head. “Suit yourself,” he replies with a shrug, turning around and heading upstairs too.
I wait for a long time in the darkened room, my eyes locked on the door to the basement, but Aeron doesn't emerge. Eventually, I give up, going to bed in the small hours with dreams of a small, beautiful bird of paradise trapped in a glass cage.
“PANIC ATTACK” BY LIZA ANNE
LARK
I lose track of time, lying in the darkness with just my monsters to keep me company, caressing my soul with their vile fingers.
There's something about being in a coffin, a glass coffin with my name on it—well, my new nickname anyway—that allows my demons freer access.
I drift between realities, losing myself in the dark nightmares of my past.
The day my mother was murdered by Tailor pigs plagues me, and I'm transported back to the time when I lost more than a beloved parent. My innocence was taken then too, I was forever fucking changed and discovered firsthand the demons that men possess and unleash on the unsuspecting.
A whimper escapes my lips, the sound bouncing back off the glass and sending me further into my spiraling thoughts.
Like a reel from a movie, all the times my father used my body as a reward for his gang members flashes in my mind's eye in brilliant technicolor. I can't stop them, the feel of unwanted hands and cocks ghosting over my body until I'm trembling and sweaty all over.
“Please,” I beg in a broken whisper, my fists clenching in the soft silk at my sides as my panic takes root and spots dance in my vision. “Please leave me alone.”
I don't know why I bother, my pleas have always fallen on deaf ears before. My heart pounds and tears leak down the sides of my face as I see more men, all taking what was never freely given.
“Breathe, Dove,” a deep voice murmurs near my head, and I turn to stare out of the glass, but it's too dark and I can't see.
“I–I—” I start, gasping for breath. “C–can't.”
Silence greets my ears, just my rasping as air saws in and out of my straining lungs.
“In, Dove,” the voice orders a moment later, the tone firm and enough to penetrate the panic fluttering at the edges of my vision. “And out. That's all it is. Follow me.”
I hear him—for it's definitely a man—taking a deep inhale, and my chest automatically follows, sweet air rushing into my starved lungs. We continue to breathe together, the black dots receding the more oxygen I take in.
“That's it, Dove. Good girl,” he praises, and I startle, my body twitching as I realize that it's Aeron who coaxed me out of my panic attack.
Once I can speak, I ask him, “How did you know what to do?” My voice is shaky as fuck, but at least I can talk, so props to me. I don't expect an answer, surely the whole point of putting me in here is to fuck with my mind. Which begs the question of why he's down here in the first place.
“Jude used to get panic attacks after June…” He trails off at the mention of June, and it takes a second for my brain to make the connection. When I do, my whole body goes ice-cold.
“June Taylor, Jude's twin and your—”
“Little sister,” he interrupts in a tight voice, and my mouth snaps shut as tears prick my eyes.
I never knew June, but we were the same age and I realized how easily it could have been me who was shot down.
How much I wanted it to be me when I heard, just so that the horror of my existence would stop.
“After the Soldiers gunned her down right in front of Jude, he would have night terrors and regular panic attacks. So I learnt how to bring him back,” he tells me, his words clipped, and although I know he's trying to hide it, I can hear the pain in his rough voice.
“Are you going to kill me, Aeron?” I ask quietly, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I await his answer. Unlike years ago, I'm not ready to die just yet. Not until I've got my brother Rook out from my sperm donor's clutches.
Aeron doesn't answer for so long that I think he won't, but when he does I jump a little at the sound of his voice.
“Not yet, Dove,” he says into the darkness, his tone hard and unforgiving. “But maybe one day.”
“Fair enough,” I reply with a bravado that I'm not sure I feel all that well anymore.
Panic flutters in my stomach like cannibal moths at the thought that these boys have already started breaking me down, unlike their predecessors.
“Just let me know so that I can inform my fans in good time. Can't disappoint them.”
“Your fans?” he questions, and I smirk even though I know he can't see it.
“Look up 'Daddy's Little Angel’ on OnlyFans,” I tell him, my handle making me smile wider.
Gotta love irony, given that I'm saving the money I earn from the body that my father gave away for free, to escape him and take his only son and heir too.
Thank fuck I scheduled content to go out way in advance, though that'll run out soon.
My grin becomes Cheshire Cat proportions wide when I hear a rumble from the clearly grumpy devil in the room.
“You'll be shutting that shit down when we let you out of that coffin,” he informs me, and a bark of laughter peels from my chest.
“Sure, Devil Man. You gonna replace the decent income I get from people watching me flick the bean?” I sass back, my cheeks hurting with my smirk as another growl sounds out. “How about I give you guys a discount code as a gesture of goodwill? Between enemies?”
Hands slap down on the glass, and I fucking twitch so hard that I bang my head. Motherfucker!
“You will shut that down and delete any evidence of you ‘flicking the bean’ as you so eloquently put it,” Aeron snarls, and although I can't make out his face in the pitch-black room, his tone tells me he's pissed as all hell. “I won't have anyone else viewing what belongs to me.”
My brows raise at that, and I just can't help myself poking the bear, or the devil as that’s more apropos of the man before me.
“Awww, Aeron baby. I knew you cared,” I coo, laughing when the sound that comes from his chest is as loud as thunder and just as hard. My thighs clench with the noise, wetness inching down them from my aching cunt.
“Get some sleep, Dove. You'll need it for what we have planned for tomorrow,” he tells me, his voice back to that cold, unfeeling tone that he seems to have perfected.
He doesn’t speak again, but I don't hear the door so I assume he stays with me which is all kinds of head fuckery.
Why lock me in a glass coffin in the pitch-black only to keep me company so I'm not as scared? There’s a comfort in knowing that he's here with me though, his presence filling me with a calmness that I definitely shouldn't fucking feel around the son and heir of a rival gang.
Confused thoughts swirl around my head, and I wonder if I'll ever get to sleep. Eventually, I do, my dreams full of being chased in the sunshine by four dark figures, and rather than a feeling of terror, I'm laughing and desperate to be caught.