Chapter 31 Neve #2
“You’re not fucking touching her,” I snarl, images of Sylvan and Tasia playing inside my mind, and I hate that it turns me on.
“Then let me touch what’s mine.”
I close my eyes for a second. Then Faust squeezes my hip, and all I say is, “Yes.”
“Good girl,” Faust says behind me, still gliding his hands up and down my hips.
“Fuck,” Slyvan mutters. Then he glances down and deftly unbuttons my pants, pushing them down until they leave my upper thighs exposed, only my bodysuit between us, and Faust’s erection pressed to my ass.
Sylvan hooks his fingers beneath the fabric covering me, palming me entirely.
I reach down with one hand and shove him lower, wanting to feel his cold fingers inside me.
“Goddamn, Neve,” he whispers, the sound strangled in his throat.
But he obliges, pushing his middle finger into my wet hole.
I can feel him watching me as I tighten around him and fall against Faust, who wraps an arm around me, keeping me up. He dips his head and kisses my neck and I moan as Sylvan pushes another finger in.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers, his nose nudging mine. He curls his fingers up and my body feels as if it’s soaring.
When Faust grips my chin and twists my head his way, I pant against his mouth as Sylvan fingerfucks me harder, and I’m moaning his name but it’s Faust’s lips I’m speaking into.
“Such a good girl,” Faust whispers, but there’s a dark edge to his tone. I don’t know if he likes this, if he’s ever done something like this—I haven’t—or how he feels, but neither one of them back off and neither one of them let me go.
“Tell me how to make you come, Neve,” Sylvan demands, like he’s sick of me paying too much attention to Faust. He pulls his fingers from me, then turns my head so I’m staring up at him, and I clench my thighs around the emptiness.
“I—” I start to speak but words fail me.
He circles his wet fingers around my lips and when I part them, he pushes both inside my mouth. I suck obediently and watch his eyes light up as I do, his breath coming in rasps.
“You are so fucking perfect,” he says, then he drags his wet fingers down my throat, my clavicle, all the way back where I need him. “Tell me what you need.”
I push against his hand again, but this time, when he’s three fingers deep inside of me, I rub my clit on the outside of my bodysuit, trapping his hand, and mine overtop the fabric.
I tilt my head back, resting against Faust whose arm tightens to hold me up as my neck arches, throat exposed, and I’m moaning so loud, if anyone comes to the outside of that door behind Faust, they’re going to hear me.
It doesn’t matter to me.
I don’t think I could stop if I tried. This tension between us three needed popping.
I keep circling myself as Faust licks a line down my throat and Sylvan’s free hand pulls at my nipples, twisting and brutal, but I don’t want him to stop.
The moaning is louder and it feels like it’s coming from somewhere outside of me. Sylvan’s fingers are stretching me so deep, it’s as if I might break.
And I’m almost…
“My perfect whore,” Sylvan says as he tugs on my nipple, and I hear the lust low in his words. “I need to feel this pussy come, or I’ll go spread hers.”
It’s exactly what I need. My eyes squeeze shut, a loud noise comes from my mouth that I don’t bother to hold back, and I’m riding Sylvan’s fingers as I stand, leaning against Faust for support.
Sylvan slaps down on my breast as I jolt, the orgasm stretching out, the pleasure bursting throughout my body.
But it isn’t Sylvan’s name I say.
“Faust, fuck,” I moan, and his hand come under my chin, grabbing my throat. The gesture is possessive but pleased, his tongue running along my cheekbone, as if he’s claiming me.
Sylvan slaps my nipple. “What a good little whore.” This time he doesn’t sound in awe. He sounds pissed.
But I’m done, gotten what I wanted, and as I sag against Faust, my eyes lazily open, and a smile curves my lips.
Sylvan pulls his fingers out of me and I straighten my bodysuit as I watch him suck all three, his narrowed gaze on mine. Then he drops his hand and looks me up and down, my pants still low on my thighs.
“I’ve been dying to see you like this.” He jerks his chin, and I don’t know what or who he’s indicating until he says, “Now get out.”
Shame sits heavy on my shoulders, making my face hot, but I don’t look away from him and I don’t cower.
“Go fuck yourself, since clearly, I won’t.” I reach down and pull my pants up, doing the button quickly, my body heated and my mind begging me to leave.
“Nah. Tasia’s cunt is waiting for me.”
My blood runs cold, but Faust’s arms circle me from behind and he says, “Watch how the fuck you talk to her, Connor.” Low and deadly.
Sylvan’s already pale complexion grows a shade whiter. “Tasia needs me.” There’s a gleam in his cold eyes despite his pallor.
“Yeah,” I say, before Faust can step in. “Just let her know it’s me you’ll be thinking of when you’re spitting on her pussy.”
Sylvan groans low in his throat. “Don’t tempt me.”
“I lied for you,” I bite out, unable to keep it in anymore.
His body goes rigid, and he looks surprised, brows lifted, corners of his mouth tugged down.
“To the detective. I lied about you at my place, and what you did.” My voice is shakier than I want it to be, but I don’t back down. “Show some gratitude and stop acting like a spoiled brat.”
He glances down at that, a smirk curving his lips. “I think I just gave you my thanks.”
“You’re disgusting.” I try to turn in Faust’s arms, ready to go, but he doesn’t let me move.
“Tell her thank you,” Faust demands.
Sylvan’s jaw jumps, his gaze darting from me, to Faust, and back again.
“If it weren’t for her, you might be in a cell right now.”
“But maybe you deserve to be,” I whisper, voicing my fear out loud. Did he do it? To Jackson? Will? Both? Or does he somehow know who did? It doesn’t make any sense. The timeframe from that Wednesday night when I found Jackson on his back, lifeless, it doesn’t make fucking sense.
Then again, I was scared, and running, and it was incredibly dark.
My sense of time could have been disoriented.
Sylvan could have killed him in the shadows.
He stares blankly at me, and that expression is more chilling than any he’s shown to me before. “Thank you,” he says, detached. Almost robotic. Then he adds, “Faust told me someone has been fucking with you.”
My skin crawls and I turn in Faust’s arms, glaring at him.
“He needed to know,” he says.
“Why?” I demand. “You two my bodyguards or—”
“We’re worse than that,” Sylvan says behind me. “We’re your killers.”
I stare at Faust, trying to read some truth in his eyes.
“If that number texts you again,” Sylvan says softly, “I want to know about it.”
“That’s what we wanted to discuss,” Faust says soothingly. “Everything else,” he glances down at my hips, “I think we needed.”
I don’t say anything for a moment. Then I feel suddenly weak.
I duck my head against Faust’s chest and after a breath of what feels like surprise in his muscular body, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. My fingertips are under my chin as I try to hide against him, and I don’t know what I’m hiding from.
It’s just a lot, and maybe I haven’t processed it, or maybe I need food or maybe… I’m falling deeper than I thought.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I… I should go.” But I don’t pull away. I know I have to soon though. Cynthia will come looking for me. The longer I make her wait, the more lies I have to tell, because there’s no way I can confess what just happened.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Faust whispers against the top of my head.
He makes me feel boneless. Melted. I wish I could sleep right here against him.
“Although if anyone touches you like that and I’m not there, you might.” The warning surprises me, and I lift my head, our eyes locking.
He doesn’t smile.
A thrill of fear runs through me.
But before I can say anything, there’s a sharp rap at the door.
I flinch, and a voice calls out, “Neve? What the hell are you doing in here?”
Annoyance fills my veins.
It’s not Cynthia.
It’s Tas.