Chapter 21
Hunter
I watch Damon carry her down the hall–her head tucked against his shoulder, arms loose around his neck, legs dangling like she’s finally let go of the fight. The sight of her small frame cradled against his chest twists something in my gut.
Once they round the corner, I turn back, prepared to face the consequences of my actions.
The King is already peeling off the mask. The metal comes away in one smooth motion, revealing the faint lines around his eyes that only show when he’s exhausted or furious. Right now it’s both.
Timothy Maddox looks back at me.
“You defied me,” he says. Voice low and controlled–dangerous.
“I did.” I don’t flinch. “But I don’t regret it. That rod is barbaric.”
“She understands it.”
“Which makes it fucking worse.” The words come out with a bite.
From the King’s expression, I may have just signed my own death warrant, but I don’t give a shit.
“The last time you used that on her it just about broke her and cost a man his life. You and I both know that bastard deserved it, but none of us can risk her becoming unstable again.”
He taps his fingers on the arm of his chair. The gold ring on his index finger catches the lamplight, glinting like a warning.
For a long moment he says nothing. Just watches me with those steady green eyes that see too much. Then he exhales in a way that sounds like resignation.
“Take the rod and the case,” he says, “and get out of my sight.”
When I don’t move fast enough he growls, “Go. Now.”
I collect the case and grab the rod off the bedside table and walk out, adrenaline rushing through my veins. It’s not just defying the King that has me worked up.
My skin feels too tight, like my hammering pulse may break through at any moment. Worse is how hard my cock is throbbing–so hard it hurts with every fucking step.
Christ. The monster is so close under the surface, so close to breaking free.
Giving her those five strikes, watching her skin pucker and feeling her body jerk against Damon’s hold, hearing her little cries of pain. It lit the darkness in me, and now I’m sweating through my shirt, jaw clenched, trying to walk it off.
I push into our shared bedroom just in time to see DK ease her down onto wobbly legs.
Her back is to us, hands braced on the dresser like she needs the support.
The short skirt is still flipped up from earlier; her ass is swollen, five distinct palm-sized welts raised and angry against the deep, beautiful brown of her skin.
The sight punches the air out of my lungs.
Damon notices immediately, of course he does. His eyes dart from the boner throbbing against the seam of my jeans to the case in my hand. Before she sees it, I shove it into the closet.
“Everything okay?” he asks, no doubt shocked I came back in one piece.
“I’m leaving.” I shake my head once, jaw clenched. “Going out. I need a minute.”
He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “To go where?”
“Noir Sanctum.” The words come out in a rush.
I need distance, darkness, someone anonymous I can lose myself in without consequence.
“I’ve got to get rid of this.” My hand drags down the front of my jeans, pressing hard against my cock like that’ll calm it down.
It doesn’t. Not with her standing right there, marked by my hand, breathing shallow and fast.
Arianette stiffens at the name of the club. She turns, wincing as the movement pulls at the welts.
“I’ll be back in the morning.” I snatch the keys to my truck off the dresser. I’ve barely taken a step when she calls out.
“Wait,” she says, voice soft but steady. “Don’t go.” I freeze, at least on the outside. Inside my blood is thrumming. I need to get outside–to get air–to get away. But I watch her swallow, chin lifting even though her eyes are glassy. “Use me.”
Silence consumes the room.
“Doll Baby,” DK warns, stepping closer, concern thick in his tone. “You’ve had enough tonight.”
“No.” She straightens with a small flinch, but doesn’t back down. “You don’t need to leave the house to get your needs met. That’s why I’m here. What I’m for.”
The words hit me like a punch in the gut, or maybe lower, right in my aching balls. My fingers flex at my sides, the urge to touch her–really touch her, to grip hard and leave deeper marks, it’s almost overwhelming.
“Not a good idea, Hex,” I manage, meaning every syllable. I’m too close to the edge. The monster’s right under my skin, just waiting to be unleashed.
DK studies us both, then says, “How about I keep things under control. I won’t let you go too far.”
I meet his gaze. He’s serious. The problem is that he thinks he knows me, but he has no real clue how dark this can get if I’m left unchecked.
Arianette nods before I can answer, like it’s already decided.
DK turns to face her, lifting her chin with two fingers, eyes hard and assessing. “You think that pretty little mouth can take his cock after the night you’ve had?”
She nods, tongue darting out to wet her swollen lips. “I can do it,” she whispers, gaze flicking to me, pleading and defiant all at once. “If that’s what he wants.”
Who the fuck wouldn’t?
“That’s a good girl,” DK mutters, voice gravel-rough.
He guides her down, firm, not gentle, until she’s on her knees in the center of the rug.
She winces hard when her bruised ass meets her heels, a hiss escaping through clenched teeth, but she doesn’t complain.
DK stands behind her like a sentinel, one heavy hand settling on the back of her neck, anchor, guard, and warning.
I step in close.
My belt clinks in the quiet room as I rip it open, shoving my jeans and briefs down just enough. My cock springs free, thick, painfully hard, flushed dark, the tip slick with precum. I’m already sweating, shaking with the need to ruin something beautiful.
She looks up at me, eyes glassy, lips parted, mascara streaked down her cheeks from earlier tears. The sight nearly breaks me. Fuck. It makes me want to break her.
DK’s voice cuts through the haze. “Mouth only. You thrust too deep or too rough, we stop. Clear?”
“Clear,” I growl, giving my dick a long stroke.
She reaches for me first, small, trembling hand wrapping around the base. Her tongue flicks out, tasting the head, and the wet heat drags a guttural sound from my chest. My hand shoots out, fisting into her hair, and I yank her forward until her lips stretch wide around me.
“Easy, Brother,” DK says. I loosen my fingers, but don’t let go.
She takes me slow at first, hot, wet suction, tongue swirling, but I’m too far gone for slow.
“Open up,” I tell her, driving in deeper and hitting the back of her throat.
She gags, eyes watering instantly, but doesn’t pull back.
Her hand rises up to clench the base, circling it with that small, firm hand.
I pull out just enough to let her breathe, then thrust again, harder, more force than before.
Again. Again. The rhythm turns punishing, fast.
“Look at you,” I rasp, voice shredded. “Choking on my cock with your ass still raw. You love this, don’t you? Love being used by all of us.”
Her moan vibrates around me, muffled and desperate.
My hand leaves her hair and glides down her throat, fingers hooking in the collar. I give it a tug, watching her neck snap forward, feeling her swallow around my cock. I twist the collar between my fingers just enough to make her gasp, eyes widening.
DK shifts behind her, eyes locking with mine in warning.
“Touch your tits,” I order, caught up in it now, completely. “Show DK how pretty his jewelry looks.”
Her hands fly to her chest, shoving up her top, revealing the pentagram scar. My fingers twitch, remembering the feel of the heavy blade in my hand as I carved it into her flesh. I wanted her so badly that night, wanted to fuck her, cut her, bury both myself and that blade deep inside.
DK’s hands close over hers, snapping me from the memory.
“Mine,” he says roughly, his big hands cupping her tits. His fingers find the silver bars and he twists. In reaction, her back arches, taking me deeper on a choked sob.
DK’s eyes darken, and his tongue flicks out, toying with the hoop in his bottom lip as he fondles her.
“Check her,” I demand, hips popping forward. “Tell me how soaked she is.”
DK slides a hand between her thighs from behind, rough and efficient. Two thick fingers push inside her without warning.
“Jesus Christ,” he growls. “You’re dripping, aren’t you, Doll Baby?”
The words snap something in me.
I tighten my grip on her collar, harder now, cutting her air just enough to make her panic, and fuck her mouth in brutal, short thrusts. “That’s it,” I snarl. “Take every inch.”
She grips my hips, nails digging in, tears streaming freely as she struggles to breathe around me.
A strong hand lands on my wrist. “Hunt,” he says, voice low and edged. “Stop. Now.”
I don’t. Not yet. One more deep thrust, grinding against her throat until her eyes roll.
DK moves, lightning fast, forcing my fingers to loosen around the strip of leather. “I said to fucking stop.”
The command and the forcefulness of his grip cut through the haze. I freeze, chest heaving, cock still buried in her mouth.
“That’s it,” he says, calm but iron-firm, eyes locked on mine. “You’re done pushing. Pull back.”
I do, carefully, releasing her throat, easing out until just the head rests on her tongue. She coughs, gasping, saliva and tears mixing on her chin, but her eyes stay on me, dark and needy, but unbroken.
DK strokes her neck once, soothing the area where I’d squeezed tight. “Good girl,” he murmurs, fingers gently stroking the side of her breast. “You’re okay.”
I’m shaking with the effort of holding back now, the monster snarling, but leashed.
Arianette takes a deep breath, hand wiping the slick off her chin. She looks up at me, and says, “Don’t stop.”
“You sure?” DK asks.
“Yes, I want to finish.”