Chapter 34 #2
It’s not a park, more like a forgotten chunk of earth half-swallowed by wild grass and broken fencing, overgrown trails twisting between patches of cracked pavement and busted playground equipment. There’s an old merry-go-round, rusted at the base, spinning lazily in the wind.
Carter parks the car near what used to be a picnic table. Haven steps out first, stretching her arms overhead with a groan. “Why do I feel like this is the start of a horror movie?”
““Better question,” I cut in, stepping close, my hand sliding along her waist until I feel her breath catch. “Who says the scene hasn’t already started?”
She looks up at me through her lashes. God, she’s so fucking lethal. “Is this your version of romance, Ghost?”
“Angel, this is romance.” I grip the back of her neck, fingers threading into her braid, yanking just hard enough to make her gasp into my mouth. “Mine,” I groan.
Her smile breaks the kiss. “Prove it.”
I shove her hoodie up, dragging the fabric over her head in one swift pull until she’s in just a thin tank top and barely-there sleep shorts that should be illegal. She made the mistake of taking off her leggings halfway through the drive.
My hand grips the back of her thigh pressing her up against the nearest tree. The bark scrapes the backs of her legs. Her gasp stokes something violent in me.
That reaction right there. That’s what cuts through everything else. No noise, no bullshit, no outside voices—just that.
Carter’s behind her in seconds, his hands smoothing down her sides, soft where I’m rough, steady where I’m chaos.
“You always this desperate?” I groan, grinding my hips into hers, biting her lower lip hard enough to pull a sound from her throat that’ll live in my goddamn bones forever.
Her hands claw at my hoodie, tugging, demanding. “Only for you. Both of you.”
Carter kisses the top of her ear, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. “Tell us what you want, baby.”
She trembles. “I want to be ruined.”
“Oh, pretty girl.” I grin. “You already are.”
I drop to my knees, dragging her shorts down with my teeth. I have no fucking patience right now. She’s bare in the evening air, that perfect pussy calling my name, fuck my heart at this point. I hook one leg over my shoulder and bury my face between her thighs.
My tongue drags slow at first long, firm strokes that makes her grab two fistfuls of my hair.
I suck her clit into my mouth and groan at the taste.
She tries to close her legs. “No,” I snap. “You take it. You fucking take all of it.”
Carter’s hand replaces mine, holding her open for me, his other palm stroking over her tits, his lips on her jaw, her throat, whispering praises. “So good. So perfect. That’s it, baby. Let go. Let him have you.”
She whimpers when I push two fingers into her, curling them up and hitting that spot that makes her hips jerk. I keep sucking, tongue fucking her through every clench, every tremble, not stopping even when she starts to beg.
“Fuck—Tate —I can’t—”
“You will,” I moan, dragging my mouth up to her stomach, her chest, licking a path up her sweat-damp skin. “You’ll come again, and again, and again, until you can’t remember your own fucking name.”
Carter eases her down to the grass as I strip my hoodie off and follow her down. Carter kisses her, slow and deep while I pull a knife from my boot
I drag the cool flat edge along her inner thigh, watching her twitch. I shift, pressing in closer, letting the knife trail higher before I pull it back just enough to make her feel the loss of it. Then I take her wrist, guiding her hand up to my chest.
“Use it pretty girl.”
Her fingers tighten instinctively around the handle, hesitating for half a second before I press her hand flatter against me.
“Slow,” I add, my eyes locked on hers. “I want to feel you think about it.”
Carter slides two fingers into her, his tongue finding her clit, while I straddle her chest, fisting my cock in one hand, watching her eyes widen when I stroke over the head and smear precum across her lips.
“You want it, pretty girl? Want me to fuck your mouth while my brother makes you come again?”
She nods, the knife still pressed to my chest.
I smile as my hand closes over her wrist. “Good,” I murmur, “now drag it down.”
My eyes don’t leave hers as I press into the blade just slightly.
“Slow,” I add. “I want to see if you can keep your hand steady while I use that fucking mouth of yours.”
Her mouth opens as I slide my cock in slow, letting her taste me, her tongue swirling the precum. Fuck.
I grip her braid and start to move my hips. Her eyes water but Carter keeps her grounded.
“Look at you,” I groan. “Fucking ruined.”
She moans around me, and that vibration sends a pulse through my cock.
Carter coaxes her higher, his fingers curling deeper. “You’re okay. Doing so good, baby. So proud of you.”
Her hand tightens on the blade and it drags a fraction deeper than before.
I go still for a moment before I exhale. I glance down between us, watching the thin line she’s drawn.
“Yeah…” I groan. My grip shifts, fingers closing over her wrist. “Fuck, that’s it, don’t stop now.” I lean in closer, “Again pretty girl, let me feel it.”
Her hand doesn’t hesitate this time as the blade drags again, deeper.
I groan, head tipping back for half a second, my grip tightening in her hair. My chest rises hard, breath catching, and I look down just in time to see what she’s done, the thin line no longer so thin.
“Fuck…” my voice comes out rough. My hand closes over hers again, pressing it in, not letting her pull away. I thrust my cock deeper into her throat. “That’s it, you feel that?”
The blade drags, slower this time, deeper, and I feel it all the way through me—sharp, controlled, exactly where I want it. My grip tightens in her hair, fingers curling at the base of her braid keeping her exactly where I need her.
“F-fuuuuck yeah…” My chest rises hard under the line she’s drawn, breath catching as I look down at her, at the way she’s watching me now, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. “Don’t stop.”
My hand shifts, tightening just enough to guide her, to keep the rhythm where I want it, where it’s pushing me closer with every second. I’m so fucking close, just a few more… seconds. “Look at you,” I say, quieter now. “You’ve got me right where you want me.”
Her grip on the knife stays steady, even as mine doesn’t. I exhale hard, my head tipping back for a second before I force my focus back to her. “Stay.” I tell her, my cock throbbing to the point I know I’m about to coat her throat.
“Right there Haven,” I thrust harder. “Take my fucking cum.” My hand tightens again, holding her in place as the tension snaps through me, everything going tight and sharp all at once.
For a second, I don’t move. Then I look back down at her as I slide my pulsing cock out of her mouth, panting, trembling, and let Carter lay her on her side.
Panting and dirt-streaked she just giggles, dazed. Then her eyes shift, unfocused at first, before they land on me. On my chest and her smile falters.
“Wait—” her voice comes out rough, as she pushes herself up onto one elbow, her hand reaching for me before she seems to think about it. Her fingers hover for a second, like she’s not sure if she should touch it, and then she does anyway, light at first.
There’s more blood than she expected. “I didn’t—” she starts, then stops, swallowing. “Tate, I didn’t think—”
“I know,” I cut in, not even a little bothered, watching her instead of the mess she made of me.
Carter shifts beside us catching on, glancing down at my chest before pushing to his feet. “You’ve got wipes in your bag?” he asks her.
She nods quickly. “Yeah—yeah, in the front pocket.”
He doesn’t waste time, heading for it while she stays right where she is, her attention locked on me like the rest of it doesn’t matter. “That’s… not nothing,” she mutters, quieter now.
I huff out a breath that almost turns into a laugh, reaching up to catch her wrist before she can pull back again. I press her hand flat against my chest, right over it, ignoring the sting. “You did that, don’t act like you regret it.”
“I don’t,” she says a little unsure.
Carter comes back a second later, pulling a wipe free, but I don’t look at him. He crouches beside us, handing her the wipe, she hesitates again before taking it, glancing between me and the blood one more time.
“Hey,” he says, nudging her shoulder lightly. “It’s okay. Just clean him up.”
That seems to settle her. She takes the wipe, pressing it to my chest.
“Fuck,” I murmur under my breath, more to myself than anything, shaking my head once.
She glances up. “What?”
I meet her eyes. “That was hot,” I tell her plainly. “All of it.”
Her lips part as I tilt my head slightly, looking down at the mark she’s trying to clean away. “Don’t scrub too hard, I want it to stay.”
Her hand stills. “Stay?”
“Yeah,” I say, eyes lifting back to hers. “I’m hoping that one sticks.”
Her legs barely work as Carter helps her back toward the car. I sit back on my heels for a second, watching her.
“You good?” Carter asks her softly.
She nods, a small smile pulling at her mouth. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“That’s one way to shut your brain off,” Carter grins.
“Worked, didn’t it?” I trail behind.
Carter looks over the hood of the car, and yawns. “Well fuck I’m not driving all the way back tonight.”
“No shit, I’m one yawn away from folding myself into the back seat and passing out.”
Haven giggles as she climbs into the front seat. “You’re both so dramatic. But yeah, agreed. I’m not wearing pants, and my legs feel like jello.”
“Not our fault,” Carter says with a grin.
“Absolutely my fault,” I add, opening the maps app on my phone. “Okay. Closest motel is five miles away. Probably nothing fancy.”
“Do they have walls?” Haven asks. “A bed?”
“Yes.”
“Sold.”
Ten minutes later we’re pulling into a run-down, two-story motor inn with flickering signage looks like it’s from another decade. But the guy at the front desk doesn’t ask questions, just hands us a key to a room with two beds, bad lighting, and a working shower.
Good enough. I throw myself on one of the beds, my arms flung wide.
Carter drops the key on the nightstand and flips through the television channels looking for something that won’t annoy the rest of us. Haven disappears into the bathroom for a quick rinse and comes out minutes later. “Which bed am I getting ruined in tonight?” she asks, biting back a smile.
Carter looks at me. I look at her. And then we both say, “Mine.”
She laughs, climbs straight into the middle of the bigger bed, and pulls the covers over her. “I’ll choose after I sleep,” she murmurs, curling up between the pillows. “Whoever spoons better wins.”
But in the quiet, after Carter mumbles about being the one to have to shut the lights off and her body fits against both of ours, I know neither of us really cares who wins tonight.
Twenty minutes into laying down and she shifts slightly between us, her leg tightening where it’s thrown over mine, her fingers curling faintly against Carter’s chest like she’s settling deeper without waking up.
I glance over at him and he’s looking back at me. I wonder if we’ll ever grow out of the weird twin shit.
“You good?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah.”
He studies me for a second longer, like he’s deciding whether he believes that, then relaxes back into the pillow. “You look at peace for once.”
Yeah, maybe because I’m not thinking about what comes next. The next move, the next way everything could fall apart if I don’t stay ahead of it.
Haven breathes slowly between us, warm and steady, completely unaware of the way she’s anchored both of us without trying.
Carter exhales quietly, his eyes closing. “Get some sleep Tate.”
I stare at the ceiling for another minute, maybe longer, just feeling it.