73. Kai
Chapter 73
Kai
I gently turn Haven over, my ears ringing. But not loud enough to drown out her desperate, whispered, “Kai, please. Don’t do this.”
Every word stabs into me like a fucking knife.
But I do what Rooke says, because he’s holding a fucking gun on us and I?—
would have done it anyway
—don’t have a choice.
I don’t know how the hell to handle coke. I’ve never done it in my life. But the baggie’s small enough that when I tap it lightly with my finger, only a tiny sprinkle falls out.
Haven shivers like she can feel those tiny crumbs touching her skin. Maybe she can. My body is electrified. Raw. Aching.
“Good.” Rooke says, and it’s my turn to shiver when he touches the muzzle to my temple. “Now go ahead.”
“I don’t want—“ I cut off when he presses the muzzle harder against me.
I’ve handled enough guns in my life that I know the safety’s off. And with his finger curled around the trigger, all it will take is a loud noise to startle him, and I’m fucking dead.
Haven covered in my blood and brain matter.
I drop my head, close a nostril, and snort up one of the lines. Haven whimpers, but holds still. She’s still wearing the blindfold, but my girl’s clever enough to know there’s some serious shit going down behind her. Above her. Beside her.
Jesus. Mother. Fucking. Christ. What. The. Fuck. Is. This. Shit.
I fight past the searing numbness to find conscious thought, conscious movement. Falling back. Holding onto the sheets like the bed is a surfboard and I’m riding a fucking tsunami.
“Kai?” Haven whispers. “Are you okay?”
“Bitch, he’s fine,” Rooke mutters as he drops his head and snorts up the other line. He picks up the baggie I left beside Haven’s hip and taps out the last of it, two more lines, one on each cheek. “Stop moving.”
Oh, fuck.
I’m rolling again.
“Another, boy.” Rooke grabs my hair, forces my head down.
I snort up a second line, because God this feels good and I never want it to end.
Rooke follows suit, and then I hear the safety click off, the thump-clatter as he tosses his revolver back into his nightstand and slams the drawer shut.
Haven jerks at the sound, starts crying softly.
I fall onto my side, drag myself closer to her. “Shh, shh,” I whisper, smoothing hair away from her face. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
She whimpers when I push the blindfold up, blinking at me with big beautiful blue eyes as she searches my face. “What’s wrong with you?” she murmurs.
“Fucking nothing,” I whisper, darting forward to kiss her. “Absolutely fucking nothing. I’m good. You’re good. Everything’s okay.” I plant tiny kisses over her lips, and soon she’s kissing me back.
Then she moans.
Then she lets out a sob that could have been either pleasure or pain. And when I look back, Rooke got his dick in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other. His attention solely focused on Haven.
“Kai!” Tears trickle out of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I stroke her face, the small of her back, her ass. Rooke grabs my wrist and forces me lower, until I’m stroking her lubed up pussy. He manipulates my fingers, forcing them inside her, and Haven’s eyelashes flutter as she fights to stay lucid, as she fights for a control she lost a long, long time ago.
“Sorry about what?” I whisper, kissing her again before she can answer. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.” I finger her, deep but slow, drawing back to see her face, to see if she likes it.
She frowns at me, mouth opening, groaning. “Sorry about—” she winces “—the maple tree.” The last is barely a whisper. “Sorry I made you do that. Should have never?—”
I kiss her again. Draw back. “That’s what you’re sorry about?” I roll my head side to side, grinning. “You’re not sorry about the gang bang?”
“What?” Her eyes flicker over my face. “What are you talking about?”
I laugh, and I swear to hell, I sound just like Rooke’s crazy ass.
“Oh, fuck, Miss H. I keep forgetting what a fucking whore you are.” I drag my fingers out of her and slap her ass so hard she yelps in pain. “I’m sure your slutty, stretched out pussy can take both of us.”
I push up, ignoring the way her horrified face tugs at my heartstrings. I’m done letting her play with my heart like a fucking marionette doll.
Now’s the time for some fucking.
As I get to my knees, Rooke grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. I stumble, a hand on Haven’s plump cheek to keep my balance. He’s fingering her asshole with his thumb.
Gone are his sweatpants.
His cock bobs thick and heavy in his lap, hard as a fucking rock. And as if desperate to prove itself, my own cock begins to stir.
“Gang bang, huh?” Rooke says, mouth curled into a wicked smile. “Were you there?”
I flick hair out of my eyes with a snap of my neck, force my eyes back to Haven, pushing two fingers into her pussy and fucking her hard enough to make her gasp into the pillow.
“No. But my brother was.”
Now she’s crying. Big, heaving, wretched sobs that wrack her body.
“And you weren’t invited?” Bastian murmurs.
I shove my sweat pants down, stare at my cock as I grab it in a hand and start stroking. It’s getting there, but it’s barely a semi. I pick up the lube and squirt some over, stalling, acting like I know what the fuck I’m doing.
“She was done with me by then.”
Rooke puts his hand over mine, the one I’m using to get my dick hard enough so I can fuck Haven.
I stop, my breath catching in my throat.
“I don’t think so,” he whispers, turning to me, as he forces me to give my cock a slow stroke.
“I think…” His lips brush my ear.
Another slow stroke, and fuck, I can’t be getting this turned on right now, it has to be the coke, right? I’m not gay. Never in my fucking life have I looked at a guy and thought of fucking him.
Then again…I’ve never looked at another girl except Haven and thought that either.
“What are you doing?” The words tremble out of my mouth.
“I think your brother’s lying,” Rooke says, his sinister words followed by another slow pump of my cock.
He touches his lips to my temple. To the top of my cheekbone. To the edge of my jaw.
Every light touch synced with a hard stroke on my slowly growing cock.
“This girl’s as innocent as you are,” he says, his breath on my lips.
I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but when they pop open, I lean back so I can stare him right in the fucking eyes.
“Ezra’s gay, Kai.” Rooke drags both our hands off my dick, and then slowly, so fucking nefariously, wraps his fingers around my shaft.
“You’re lying.” I spit the words out, but they’re barely a whisper. Search his face for confirmation, but I don’t find it.
He shakes his head, starts working my dick like he knows it better than I do. And I’m struggling to keep my eyes open, struggling to keep myself in check, struggling to understand what he’s telling me.
“He was good. Much more experienced than you are. With other guys.”
His mouth is by my ear again. And he licks me, slow and soft, leaving an aching trail in his wake.
“You’re. Lying!”
My breath catches, and it sounds like a sob, because Jesus, it feels like I’m going to come, but I’m not getting there, it’s just hovering out of reach, building until I’m ready to explode.
“He begged me to hurt him,” Rooke whispers. “Just like his daddy used to.”