45. Camilla
I’m getting fucking whiplash from these men.
One minute they’re avoiding me, doing their darndest to make me feel unwanted and unwelcome, and the next, Crew’s tearing me out of Kovu’s arms and barking about how I’m not safe with him.
I’m not naive enough to think Kovu couldn’t hurt me, because I’m sure he could. He’s the one they call in for the hard jobs, the ones that those who still hold a shred of humanity would balk at, but I haven’t been afraid of him since the first day. Since he helped me take pain meds and held my hand while I fell asleep as pain ravaged my body.
Crew kicks open the bedroom door and makes quick work of locking it behind him while keeping me close to his chest, not letting me go until he places me in the middle of the bed.
I stare up at him, my brows tugging together in confusion. Up until a few days ago, I hadn’t seen him in weeks. Now he’s demanding I go on birth control and protecting me from another member of his family? What the fuck has gotten into him?
I’m about to ask just that when he advances on me, stealing the breath right from my lungs as his lips crash down on mine.
He’s rough and demanding as he takes from me, but I don’t cower. I meet each kiss, each clash of our teeth, and each swipe of his tongue, desperate to taste the faint mint and whiskey on his lips.
Crew is fucking addictive, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of him.
He shoves me farther up the bed, but he follows so quickly I don’t get the chance to miss his body pressed against mine.
He tears his lips from mine, staring down at me with lust-filled eyes, and it takes all my strength not to rub my thighs together. My pussy is aching for attention, the need to come is so bright I can almost taste it.
“We can’t do this,” he whispers into the space between us.
“Why not?”
His lips crash back down on mine, his hard length pressing into my thigh as he grinds into me the way I wish he would fuck me.
I don’t know when I stopped fearing him and when I started craving his touch, but right now I feel like I might cease to exist if he doesn’t touch me and doesn’t do all the filthy things I’m certain are running through his mind right now.
He lifts himself, forcing some space between us as we both pant, our eyes locked on one another as he searches for whatever bullshit excuse he’s about to throw at me.
“The same reason we should let you go, that we should leave you to live your life without four overbearing assholes chaining themselves to you.”
I lean up on my elbows, bringing my face just an inch from his. “And why is that, Crew?” I purr his name. I may not have any experience with sex, but I understand men. I’ve been manipulating them my whole life, just another skill my father taught me to prepare me to eventually take on his role. The thing about men is they’ll always underestimate a woman, but that makes them easy to manipulate. I can’t say that about the men that live under this roof, though. They’d see it a mile away.
“Because you’re too fucking pure for us,” he growls as he presses me back into the mattress, his weight settling over me and leaving me unable to move. “We’ll chew you up and spit you out, and you deserve better than that.”
“What if that’s what I want?” I challenge. “What if I’m not as pure as you think I am?”
“You’re a fucking virgin,” he snaps.
Heat burns across my skin at the blatant fact that I would have kept that to myself given the chance. It’s not exactly something I wanted to share with four of the most terrifying men to ever call New York home. “And that means I’m pure?” I raise a brow at him. “I’ve killed people, Crew. I have blood on my hands the same way you do. The only reason I’ve never been fucked is because I was too busy to spend any amount of time with the opposite sex, and I’ve never been particularly interested in boys my own age.” The admission falls from my lips before I can catch it. High school boys were always too immature for me. While I was training to become a Mafia queen, they were at dumb parties getting fucked up every weekend. While I was learning how to kill a man with nothing more than my own hands, they were playing silly sports and thinking it made them the big man in town.
Crew’s eyes darken, and I’m struck by how terrifyingly beautiful he is, his body pressing mine into the soft bedding, his control wound so tight it’s a moment from snapping. Why is it I want to see him lose the carefully crafted control he seems to hold on to so tightly? I’ve never seen him without the permanent frown line between his brows? “How many people have you killed, Little Menace?” His voice is low, and as if on autopilot, I rub my thighs together.
“I stopped counting,” I whisper the admission. Their deaths used to weigh heavy on my conscience, but after the first few, I knew keeping track of them was doing more harm than good.
He considers me for long moments, and I can’t help but hold my breath. He’s assessing whether I can handle him and the others, and for some reason, I’m desperate to prove I can handle anything they throw at me. Perhaps it’s the need to please powerful men. The same reason I killed people without asking questions for my father is why I gave up what most would consider the best years of their lives to be his successor.
He pulls away from me and stands at the edge of the bed. Disappointment rushes through me, and I tear my eyes away from the hardness in his pants. The hardness I caused, but that he won’t give me because he thinks he knows better.
I’m about to snap back at him, throwing my walls back up as high as I can build them, when a rough command falls from his lips.
“On your knees, Camilla.”
I stare at him for a moment, watching as he stares down at the floor by his feet, but I don’t allow myself to hesitate.
I crawl to the edge of the bed, making sure to sway my hips with each movement, and I don’t miss how he watches my every move.
I slip from the edge of the bed and carefully drop to my knees. The shirt I’m wearing pools around me as I take a second to get comfortable. Although I’ve done my best to put on a brave face, my ribs are still causing me a lot of pain, and as much as I want to play whatever game Crew has planned, I need to be at the top of my game regardless of what comes next.
If I choose to execute the escape plan I’ve been quietly concocting, or whether I decide to go along with their plan to thrust me into the role I’ve spent my life training for, is yet to be determined, but I need to keep my body as strong as I can.
I stare up at him, his height is even more imposing from this position, and his wide shoulders are tense as he stares down at me. For a moment, I think he’s going to leave the room and leave me kneeling here like the wanton whore Kaos keeps making me feel like.
But then he reaches for me. His fingers brush over my cheek, my jaw, and then down my throat until his hand clamps there, holding my breath captive with his strong grip.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me, Camilla?” His voice is filled with lust, and it’s such a stark contrast to the cool, collected man I’ve become accustomed to.
I nod slowly, unable to speak through his grip on my throat.
“Take my cock out,” he commands, and I immediately reach for his belt. My hands shake violently as I feed the leather through the buckle and move to the button.
Each breath I take is a struggle with his hand securing my airway, but heat pools in my lower belly, the evidence of my arousal soaking the cotton panties I slipped on this morning.
I slide the zipper down, and his hard length pops out, and I give him a questioning look at his lack of underwear.
“Seems like a waste of time to add an extra layer between us, don’t you think?” His brow quirks up. “Once you’ve had the IUD put in, you will no longer be permitted to wear panties.”
I open my mouth to argue, because I don’t even think I’ve agreed to that yet, but before I can, his hand releases my throat, and he grips his cock in one hand, giving it a few hard pumps while I watch with wide eyes.
I may never have sucked a cock, but I understand what is required of me, and I’m not sure how I’m going to manage with one as large as his.
Crew chuckles as he moves the head of his hard length over my lips, leaving behind a trail of salty precum that I lap up like a starved kitten. He tracks my every move with his darkened gaze. “Tongue out, Little Menace.”
I do as I’m told, holding my lips open as wide as they’ll go and following his command without hesitation.
He groans, his grip on his cock tightening as he pumps it harder. “Have you ever put your pretty lips around a cock?”
I shake my head, holding on to as much confidence as I can while holding his eyes.
“Normally, I lack interest in inexperience. Your virginity is one thing. Knowing I could be the first man to ever fuck your tight little cunt and seeing your blood on my cock, it’s an intoxicating thought. But while Bishop enjoys molding a woman into the perfect doll, I normally enjoy them already trained,” he tells me, and anxiety swirls to life in my belly. Is he going to walk away? And will I really be disappointed if he does? Won’t it just make my decision easier?
He slips the head between my lips, the smooth underside of his length moving over my tongue, and I immediately lap at him, unable to help myself.
“But I have a feeling you’re different for me, Little Menace.” He pauses to press forward farther until he hits the back of my throat, forcing me to gag around him. “I have a feeling you’re different for all of us.”
He moves his free hand to my hair, holding me in place as he surges forward, slipping straight past my gag reflex. Panic fills me for a moment, but he quickly pulls back, allowing me to gasp in hungry breaths.
Before I have a chance to consider my next move, his cock is back between my lips, and he’s pressing forward slowly, and I can tell it’s taking all his focus not to lose control, not to take me the way he craves.
But what if that’s what I want?
He watches closely as my lips close around him, and another strangled groan escapes his throat. “Fuck, Little Menace. Your mouth is a fucking paradise.”
I preen under his praise and flick my tongue around his shaft as he sinks another inch between my lips. I’m not sure when the praise of these men became so fucking addictive, but I’m coming to crave it, and that’s not a good thing.
“That’s it, baby girl. Take another inch for me. Just a little more.” He forces his voice to sound soft despite how hoarse it is, and I take as much as I can, breathing through my nose as he slips into my throat.
His fist in my hair tightens, and I push further, desperate to make him lose control. “Fuck, Camilla.”
A small smile tips up my lips around him as I push myself further until I’m sure I can’t take anymore, and then I hold myself there, lapping at him as his eyes roll back in his head.
Crew begins small thrusts when he can’t handle it anymore, and I stare up at him through watery eyes. Tears fall against my cheeks as I watch him fuck my mouth, far gentler than I imagine he wants to.
He drags me off his cock, and I suck in a greedy lungful of air. “Your mouth is fucking sin, Little Menace.” He wipes our mingled saliva and precum across my cheeks and lips, gently slapping himself against my cheek, which only seems to make my pussy more desperate for relief. Jesus, who would have thought a blowjob could get a girl so hot and bothered?
His hand slides up and down his length, and I’m addicted to every move he makes. Why is it so fucking hot watching a man get himself off?
“You look so pretty with a mouthful of cock, Camilla,” he murmurs, and a soft moan escapes my throat, giving away how desperate I am for relief. “Oh, you like that, dirty girl?” He smirks and drops to his knees in front of me.
I don’t get a chance to question what he’s doing before he tears the shirt I’m wearing straight down the middle. I stare at him with surprise, my breath caught in my throat.
“That was Kovu’s,” I tell him.
“I don’t care.” He shrugs, but his eyes can’t tear from my chest. “I’ve never been jealous when sharing a woman,” he admits. “But it seems you’re the exception to the rule.”