Chapter Fifteen #2
He’s biting me all over. Some of those spots make me laugh, like at the top of my rib cage. Some of them make me yell.
All the while, Troy’s working his fingers in and out of me with such intensity I’m honestly frightened by how much I like it.
“Oh God,” I moan again. “Please. Please. Don’t.”
Don’t stop.
Whatever I do, whether it’s to moan or beg, I do it as loud as I can. As long as I can. Whoever might be watching, I want to make it so good they don’t even consider killing us.
Killing us. Fuck.
Don’t think about that.
So, when Troy straddles my chest and shoves his cock into my mouth, I open up and let him. I yell. I gag. I kick my feet, or at least I try to.
I even try to pull away from the velvety length nudging at my tonsils, because some part of my brain tells me I’m supposed to.
“There you go, Kitten. There you go. Good boy. Get me so fucking wet. Swallow that cock. Squeeze it with your fucking throat. I’m gonna jam this thing so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste me all over again.”
I don’t… What?
Things get fuzzy when he pushes hard into my throat. “Bite me and I’ll fucking strangle you.”
Right now, Troy sounds like a different person. Angry. Lethal.
Why is that hot?
A hazy memory floats through me. The time I accidentally walked in on my brother getting fucked by his boyfriend. PJ had his hand wrapped around Fallon’s throat as if controlling his breath was his only mission.
Not that I’m into seeing my brother get fucked, but now I wonder: am I into the other thing? I might be.
Someone mumbles something that sounds a lot like “Choke me, Daddy.” Now why am I giggling again?
Gina only ever wanted me to get her pregnant again. Maybe it could’ve been fun, but it wasn’t. I think I felt more pressured then than I do right now.
Huh.
I’m drooling so much I can’t keep it in. All I can do is hold on.
As abruptly as Troy shoved his dick down my throat, he pulls it out again. I’m still gasping and trying to catch my breath when the blunt head presses at my asshole. Slow but steady, he pushes in.
If I thought his fingers were intense, this is so much more. The burning. The pressure. If I can handle getting a million IVs, I can handle this.
You wanted this, my brain supplies. Some part of you wanted this.
“Aaah!” After a few pumps, it starts to feel good. Those waves of pleasure when he hits my prostate layer on top of each other, each more consuming than the next. I can’t even keep my hips on the mattress.
You’re supposed to hate this. You’re supposed to protest.
“Jesus. Fuck. No. Stop!” Through my haze, there’s a moment where everything comes to a halt.
When Troy pauses for a painful second. He’s pressed deep inside me, his gaze burning into mine.
The crease deepens in the center of his forehead.
Like for a second he really might stop because I yelled for him to.
I try to give a subtle shake with my head. To tell him with my eyes to keep going.
He asked me to react. He told me to yell, so I did.
The weird part? This is oddly freeing.
There can’t be any guilt or worry for wanting something I’m not supposed to want, can there? Not now.
Fuck, I see why people take these drugs now. Every thought in my head is like a light bulb exploding. Every touch does the same to my nerves. My body. It’s a shower of sparks, lighting me up.
“Yeah. You’re okay. You’re okay,” Troy murmurs as he starts going again. Is he assuring me, or himself?
Doesn’t matter. I’m damn near euphoric. My nerve endings have been plugged into a light socket. My eyes flutter closed as sensation envelops me.
A minute later when Troy gives my face a series of hard slaps and then demands “Hey. Look at me when I’m fucking you” I’m even more awake. More alive.
In that fraction of a second when his icy gaze melts into something almost tender, I don’t know what to do with the way that look seeps into my chest.
Is all of this the drugs or would I feel like this anyway? With every passing moment my fuzzy thoughts come into sharper focus. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too different. I don’t think so.
Right now there’s no confusion. No agonizing over why I want this. Why I want them. There’s no telling myself all the reasons I shouldn’t. All I have to do is lie here and take it.
And scream.
“Fuck! You’re fucking killing me. What—mmmph!”
Adam straddles my face and shoves his dick into my open mouth. It’s oddly frustrating not to be able to yell at Troy anymore.
I can growl, though. Rage from the back of my throat. Grunt and groan and scream until I’m raw.
“Oh yeah, babe,” Adam groans. “That mouth is so fucking hot. Suck me, baby. Suck me so fucking hard. I want to feel my brains blow out through my cock and go down your throat. That’s so good. Such a good fucking boy.”
His words send a surge of desire through me. All at once I’m on the verge of coming.
Ooh. Interesting.
Prickles dance over my skin. It’s as if my entire body has been asleep and it’s waking up now. Maybe it has been. Maybe I’ve been sleepwalking through my entire fucking life.
Going along. Doing what was expected of me. Holy fuck.
Now I’m screaming around a cock jammed into my throat while a twenty-two-year-old man is telling me what a good boy I am, and I’ve never felt more alive.
Adam’s dick swells in my mouth. I’m drooling everywhere. His words turn to nonsense, getting louder and louder, his movements jerkier, until he erupts into my mouth with a yell.
When I sputter and struggle to swallow, I’m not acting. It’s overwhelming, and for a second I think I might drown.
Drowning in cum. What a way to go.
It doesn’t taste like mine, but it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever swallowed. That trophy belongs to the time Gina tried to cook curried deer meat.
Which was a mistake to think about. Now I really am gagging. My impending orgasm retreats a little.
I’m distantly aware of Adam’s hand on my cock. Of his encouraging words, the “Come on, babe” and the “Yeah, you want it, don’t you?” The “He’s owning your asshole so fucking good, isn’t he?”
Owning my asshole. Why does that sound so…right?
I’m so close to the edge I barely have time to care.
Someone yells about not wasting the money shot. For a blissful moment, I’d forgotten again there are people here. Filming. Watching .
Adam’s mouth engulfs my cock in heat, and I’m back in that closet. Back when Adam was sucking me off and Troy was kissing me, pinching me, sinking his teeth into my pecs. When wanting them to touch me, needing to cum mattered more in the moment than any possible consequences.
“Oh God, please,” I babble. “Hurt me. Hurt me. Fuck me. Hurt me, oh God, fuck me…”
Every sensation in my body builds on the last one. My tongue’s lost its off switch. The closer I get to coming, the more the words tumble out.
Then, with a shout, I’m spilling onto Adam’s hand and onto my stomach.
Troy, apparently taking my words seriously, is pounding into me so hard I think he might loosen my fillings.
Teeth sink into the upper thigh of one leg, which is draped over his shoulder. Then he lets out an eardrum-rattling bellow, before pulling out to paint my cock and my thighs with his release. Each drop makes my skin sizzle.
There’s a shadowy figure hovering over us. A bright light. A camera? Right. The money shot.
Somewhere in the distance a phone rings. “Gotta take this. Clean them up and then get ready for transport.”
I’m catching my breath. Blinking at the ceiling. Trying to make sense of everything through my brain fog.
That was…something.
My asshole twinges. The rough fucking is making itself known. I think later I’m going to have a lot of questions.
“Only two now. Here’s our shot. Time to go,” Adam whispers.
“What?” Fuck, they said something about transporting us somewhere. Icy fear sobers me up, pulling me out of my orgasm haze.
Without warning, Adam’s weight lifts from my body. Naked feet slapping on concrete. Adam and Troy, running.
Shouting.
I stumble to my feet, trying to make my eyes focus.
Something hits a wall and shatters. There’s a symphony of dull thuds of punches being thrown. Troy’s hoisting what looks like camera equipment over his head.
“Troy. Adam.” I feel around for my clothes.
I have to help them.