22. Ivy
Chapter twenty-two
Ivy
Age Twenty-One
I gave myself to them that summer when I surrendered my body to them, letting the three of them and the fucked up hold they have over me claim my first orgasm, my first time. They didn't come for me again, and when my parents dragged me home just a few days after everything with them, I thought I may never see them again.
My parents made no secret of how much they couldn't wait to be rid of me, and I thought they'd have married me off the minute I got home to the city with its natural prison of tall buildings and lifeless people. But they didn't push the idea of my marriage, and I didn't question it, because it meant that come summertime, I'd be back with them.
And I was, eventually, though we didn't get to the cabin until after Labor Day, most of summer firmly behind us.
The mountains are the first to relent to the onslaught of fall, and the chill was already in the air by the time we navigated into the little town we'd been driving through every year for as long as I could remember. The tips of the trees were already kissed by an early autumn, a few rogue leaves turning to glorious warm shades. It’s a beauty I rarely get to enjoy, but I don’t question it, the excitement building in me with each mile we put on the SUV.
My father was to meet us late this time, so I slipped away the first night after my mother drank herself to sleep and Uncle Vitoli tucked her away in bed.
As I make my way down the mountain, my stomach filling with delirious excitement at the thought of seeing them again, I wonder whether they'll still want me. My heart yearns for this time with them the way it always has, but my head spins with ideas of them having moved on, having gotten over me. After all, I came late this year.
Killian's cabin is dark, a single light on in a back window. His truck isn't there, and neither is his father's jeep, but clearly someone is home.
I steel my nerves as I turn into his drive, my shoes crunching over the loose rocks that have skittered into the path, glancing around for any sign of anyone. But there's no one around, no one to stop me as I make my way to the back of the cabin, the window that looks into the room with only a single lamplight illuminating the space. I know it to be Killian's room, and at first, my stomach plummets at the sight of someone who’s not Killian in his bed. A swell of vomit works its way up my stomach as I imagine another woman in the spot I want to be.
Something entices me to look closer, so I rise to the tips of my toes, my hands on the ledge of his window, and find myself looking right at Monty, who sits up, bewildered.
At first, he must think I'm a ghost or something, because he stares at me like I'm something from another planet.
When he slips out of the bed, I consider running, my nerves twisting my stomach into a pretzel as he opens the window. It squeaks, causing the other body in the bed to roll over, and my eyes flick to him as the light casts just the right shadows on his face for me to see Theo, beautiful as ever. His peaceful face betrays nothing of the wicked and wonderful man beneath it, and with his curly hair spread out around his head, he looks deceptively angelic.
"Ivy," Monty whispers, too surprised at the sight of me to resort to his usual nickname.
I open my mouth, but I don't know what to say to him. Sorry I'm late? That seems ridiculous, given that we never established an exact meeting time. They just always found me in the way that they have, like we're all magnetized somehow to one another.
There's no need for words, apparently, because Monty doesn't let me speak. He slips a hand around the back of my head and guides my mouth to his so that he can kiss me, soft and slow and deep. He awakens a hunger in me, a part of myself that I leave here in their care every time I have to leave, and I kiss him back, already feeling the stirrings within me as parts of me that have died this past year come back to life.
"Poison," he whispers as he pulls away, his sweet breath ghosting across my wet lips as he regards me like I’m something worth anything. "You came back."
"I'll always come back," I tell him, simultaneously hating the truth in my words and loving that I have a place to come back to-- people to come back to.
"Come inside," he gestures me forward, stepping aside and putting out a hand for me to grab as I climb through with relative ease, since it's not the first time I did it.
"I didn't mean to wake you up." I say, my hand rising up to smooth down a patch of his hair that's sticking up. It’s silky under my fingers, and I hold it longer than necessary as I appraise him.
Though he’s the smallest of the Reapers, he’s still taller than me. And he seems to have put on more muscle—that, or I was too blitzed last summer to commit every facet of his body to memory. That’s a sin I’ll have to rectify.
"It's okay," he assures me, pulling me with him toward the bed. "Come on. Let me hold you."
I slip off my shoes and jean shorts, knowing there's a good chance I'm going to fall asleep between Monty and Theo, who looks softer than I've ever seen him. I don't want to disturb his peace because I can't get comfortable, so I ignore Monty's eyes darkening with desire and crawl onto the bed, careful not to get too close to Theo. But when I turn back to see Monty, he shakes his head and gestures for me to move away from the wall, into the center of the bed. I only hesitate for a second before I do it, settling next to Theo, who doesn't so much as flutter a sooty eyelash as my shaky exhale hits his face.
Monty crawls into the space beside me and drapes an arm over my middle, offering a rare comfort that has me easing into the mattress. The air smells like them, sweet and warm and outdoorsy, and it feels deceptively peaceful.
The fear nips at my stomach as I think already about when I'll have to leave, even though I just got here. Maybe coming this time was a mistake— something about it feels different than the summers before.
"Where's Killian?" I whisper, turning my head to take in Monty, who's lying on his side watching me with the slightest curve of his lips. His eyes are full of something I can’t even guess at the nature of, lit up by the gentle glow of the lamp behind me.
"Work. He'll be back in a few hours."
I nod, realizing I have no idea where Killian even works. "And his parents?"
Monty's lips part, and then fall closed. He licks them thoughtfully, and then sighs. "They're dead."
That wasn't the answer I expected, and it makes my heart beat faster as my head swirls with implications. "Did he do it?"
For a minute, Monty only stares at me like he isn't sure I just asked that. His lips twitch, trying to decide whether to laugh it off or chastise me.
"No, Poison," Monty chuckles, swiping a lock of my hair between his fingers and watching the light play over it, turning different strands into a flaming copper color. "They were shot on their vacation to Prague."
"Prague?" I say the word slowly as it rings in the back of my head. "Isn't that where..."
"Where they went last summer." Monty nods. "It's been over a year."
"Shit." I whisper, a quiet sort of sadness settling in me at the thought of his parents never coming home. Unlike me, Killian had decent parents. His mother had welcomed me into her house with a smile and sent me home with treats that never made it back up the mountain because I knew my mother would tell me they were too fattening. She cleaned my wound when I got bit by that snake, and she looked so sadly at me every time my own mother would stand on the porch and scream for me from the top of the road. Honestly, I don't know how they managed to raise a son like Killian, so... violent, sociopathic. I mean, he's a fucking murderer. Do people just take that up as a hobby for the hell of it? I thought usually killers just had a tragic backstory to compound their mental illness.
"They were good people." Monty sighs. "They adopted him when he was eight. His own mom left him at the police station, and when they tracked her down and told her it didn't work that way, she killed herself. He was in foster care for a bit, but he scared them all. Up until Irene and Scott," Monty smiles. "They took him in and never judged him for any of his quirks."
"By quirks, do you mean murder?" I say it lightly enough that it could be a joke, but I mean it seriously.
"No." Monty chuckles, dropping the strand of my hair he's been rubbing between his fingers and wrapping an arm around me to settle closer. "More like his self-harm tendencies. The fact he never spoke much until he was a teenager. The matter of his sexuality."
I raise an eyebrow, curious about hearing Killian's sexuality described as a quirk rather than a part of him.
"Sorry," Monty shrugs, recognizing the bluntness. "It's just, my own parents gave me a hard time for being interested in men as much as women. They thought it was a phase, you know? Said the three of us were just too close."
I haven't seen a lot of Monty's parents over the years, but I remember his mother, a small woman with worry lines pulling at her fair skin and his father, similarly small but with a no-nonsense persona. I've never heard either of them speak a single word, and while I imagine his mother must speak English since she’s decidedly white, I always kind of assumed his father just didn't speak it.
"Is it just a phase?" I ask, reaching up to trace the bow of his lips. "Or is it just them?"
"I don't know." He says, his eyes searching mine like I can give him the answer to that. "Theo was always my best friend. I didn't think about it, and I don't think our parents questioned it. When Killian joined our crew, we became like brothers. But at some point, things shifted. It's hard not to love them, you know?"
I do know, actually.
"Things really started to shift after you came along, but as much as we all craved you, we all still yearned for each other."
I swallow, trying not to feel jealous at how simple it seems for them. "You make it sound so easy. You're just all... together."
Monty laughs. "It's never been easy. It's why Killian murdered Theo's parents. It's been better since then, but..."
"Killian? Murdered Theo's parents?" My eyes dart to the large man sleeping behind me. "Does he know?"
"Of course he knows." Monty chuckles. "How do you think Killian got in?"
"Fuck." I whisper around the lump in my throat.
"You knew he was a killer." Monty reminds me, yawning. "You saw him do it."
"I thought, maybe it was a one-time thing."
"No." Monty blows out a laugh. "Not a one-time thing. But he's really disciplined, able to control it rather than letting it control him."
I blink, not sure what I'm supposed to say to that. I don't have to worry about it, because Monty tips his head against my chest, burying his face in the sheets. A moment later, I feel his breathing even out with sleep.
I don't know when I follow him to sleep, but I wake up to a hand on my ass and Theo's hot breath on my neck. My eyes pop open, and I have to blink a few times to get a look at Monty, still asleep next to me while behind me, Theo is wide awake.
"Welcome home, Tiger Lily." A shiver rolls down my spine as his fingers trace up my thigh, but I don't know if it's because of his touch or because something in me preens at the word home . "I told him you'd be back."
"Told who?" I ask, rolling over to get a better look at him.
I'm surprised to see Killian standing over his shoulder, a gray tee clinging to his considerable muscles. He's definitely grown since the last time I saw him, both wider and taller... or maybe I just need to sit up. I move to do so, but Theo's hand wraps around my throat and he drives me back against the mattress before rolling his body overtop of mine, taking my breath with him.
"You slept in my bed all night without me, Bambi?" Killian tuts his tongue, and I turn my neck to see him shaking his head slowly as he reaches for his belt, thick fingers unthreading the leather through the loops in his pants and sending a jolt of electricity through me.
"You slept next to me all night without me knowing?" Theo adds, his lips pulled down into a frown as his eyes rove my face. "You should have woken me up, Tiger Lily."
"I—" My breath stutters as his mouth hovers over mine. "You looked so peaceful."
"Not as peaceful as I would have been if I knew you were beside me."
He cuts off any attempt to say anything back to that, his lips falling upon mine gently, his tongue swiping along the seam of my mouth to give him entrance. He kisses me slow, and for a minute, I think that's as far as this is going to go. But then I feel his hand on my hip, his fingers in a slow caress before he's tugging at the elastic of my panties. Distracted as he is, he fumbles, and Killian comes to his rescue, tugging at the other side to free me of the little fabric pressed between us.
I arch my hips into his, needing the contact of his hot skin against mine. It's been too long since I felt their touch, their kiss. They reached inside me and broke me apart in their own wicked way, and I've been empty ever since.
His touch unleashes a roll of pleasure inside me when it lands between our bodies, testing the wetness between my legs... the wetness I know damn well is already pooling there and has been from the moment Theo rolled on top of me. I moan into his mouth as his fingers swipe over my clit once, twice, teasing a fire that will burn out of control if the sparks start to catch. He must enjoy the sound, or the taste of my moan, because he takes advantage, slipping two fingers inside of me with relative ease and ensuring that I know no matter how gentle he's being right now, he isn't going to take things slow.
I can feel his fingers buried deep inside me, my body clenching around them, desperate to hold him inside with the pleasure. He chuckles against my lips as he pulls back and then pumps in again, pulling more wetness out of me and setting a pace.
"So fucking tight, Ivy." He mutters, pushing off of me just enough to give himself the leverage to take me deeper.
"Have you let anyone else touch this sweet pussy since my gun?" Killian asks, and I blink, breathing through the burn as Theo stretches me wider. I think he must have added another finger.
"You can take it." He assures me with a satisfied little smirk, and my eyes nearly roll as he hits deep inside me. It's a strange combination of pleasure and pain, and I don't want it to stop but it's hard to focus on anything with him controlling me like this.
"Bambi." Killian's fingers snare on my chin, jerking me around to look at him. I blink to try and focus on his beautiful face, the tawny eyes sparkling with hints of gold that betray the lust he's feeling. He looks like a beautiful monster, a vampire right before feeding. "Have you been a bad little whore? Tell me no other man has touched our pussy..."
Theo takes that moment to slip his fingers out of me, and I ache at the loss, needing to be filled again with something, anything. I watch him lick his fingers slowly, making a show of it as he slips one into his mouth and sucks my essence off of him. It makes my own mouth dry, but I can feel Killian waiting. "No. I've never... nobody's been inside me."
"I'd think watching Killian fuck you with that gun was a fever dream given how tight your cunt still is," Theo chuckles, pushing one of my thighs aside and splaying me open before descending on me. I feel his hot breath between my legs, and I suck in a sharp breath of my own.
"Except I distinctly remember licking your blood off that gun." Monty's voice, breaking in the middle with the hoarseness of sleep, makes me startle. I hadn't realized he was awake. Though I guess he'd have to be a heavy sleeper to not wake through all of this... we haven't exactly been whispering.
"I think she passed out right around that point." Theo chuckles, and I want to tell him I did not pass out, but then he glides his tongue along my seam, from the bottom to the top, and I truly may pass out this time as shuddering pleasure rolls through me. I drop my head back against the mattress and let out a small sound that I don't control, too lost in the bliss of his tongue rolling expertly over my clit.
The sound of Killian's zipper giving way unleashes something in me, and I turn to watch him drop his pants and slide his boxers down his thighs, letting a thick cock spring free. Something between terror and excitement fills me as Theo laps at my pussy, creating some sort of rhythm that my body is responding to of its own accord.
"That's bigger than the gun." I gasp, stupidly.
Killian and Monty both laugh loudly at that, but Theo's too invested in feasting on me to have heard.
"Yeah, most cocks are." Monty laughs, tracing my collarbone with teasing fingers.
"Don't worry, Bambi." Killian chuckles, fisting his own length slowly. I can't look away from it, from him. "It's not going in your cunt just yet. Open up."
The head of his cock is soft when it slaps against my lips, and though I have no idea what I'm doing, my body responds automatically, my lips parting for him.
"Wider." Monty whispers behind me, his hand skating toward my breast and plucking a nipple between his fingers that makes me groan as I open my mouth wider, ready to accept whatever Killian gives me.
He gives me the whole damn thing.
Monty's other hand pushes me onto Killian's cock as he skates it against my tongue, forcing him into my mouth until I feel him at the back of my throat and it convulses as I gag, my body trying to rid me of the intrusion.
"Breathe through your nose." Killian tells me, his voice strained as he seems to exert some kind of control. He isn't moving yet, just holding himself buried in my mouth, my throat still trying to force him out. Through the panicky tears in my eyes, I can only see his sculpted torso, the hairs leading in a neat trail down to the cock that I'm currently choking on.
And yet through it all, Theo never ceases, chasing pleasure through me even as fear has me in a chokehold.
I shake my head, trying to signal to them that I can't breathe, can't take his cock in my throat like this, but Killian grits his teeth and I brace myself for impact, prepare for the blow as his anger overflows. But no blow ever comes. Instead, he reaches toward me, still not letting his cock slip from between my lips, and pinches my nostrils shut.
Now, I know true fear as my body loses access to air, the little bit that's in my lungs being held hostage by the terror of thinking I may die here, like this... a fucking whore. I try to escape him, try to reel back to get some room in my mouth to let air down, but Monty holds the back of my head still and Killian moves with me, not giving me the slightest bit of leverage. My eyes burn, my lungs burn, and I can feel the blood rushing to my head, desperately trying to keep me alive even as I begin to feel faint, my attempts to move becoming sluggish.
"Shh, Poison." Monty croons, his fingers soothing over my scalp as he holds me still. "You're okay."
My eyelids feel heavy, and my stomach stops heaving, realizing that there's nothing to throw up and that no amount of struggling is going to dislodge Killian.
A violent burst of pleasure from between my legs steals the last of the breath from my lungs, a tear slipping down my cheek in time with the moan slipping out of my throat, muffled around the intrusion.
Killian takes that exact moment to release my nostrils and slide back to the tip of my tongue. I feel like I’ve swallowed fire as I cough around the suddenly available oxygen, the air burning as it passes my sinuses. There is no chance for relief, no opportunity to get my breath back, because he skates back inside, threading a hand through my hair and thrusting until the tip of my nose is buried in his skin, breathing in the sweet scent of him, musky and oaky. But this time he doesn't hold himself there. He pulls back, groaning a little as he goes, and then pumps back in, hitting deep every time. His pace is slow enough, at first, to let me come around a little, my chest no longer feeling on the verge of collapsing as he pushes in.
"Breathe through your nose." He reminds me, just before he hits the back of my throat, and I convulse.
He fucks my mouth, my throat, using me like I'm nothing to him, like a toy. And despite the panic evident in my gag reflex, I don't hate it. Something about it feels oddly powerful, watching him squeeze his eyes shut and try to focus. It's spurred on by Theo, who sucks me into his mouth all at once and tugs, the suction making fiery pleasure ignite low in my stomach.
"Fuck!" I whimper, the heat spreading rapidly as he swirls his tongue against me, rolling it around my swollen clit.
"That's it, Poison." Monty croons, his hot breath against my skin just a moment before his tongue flicks over a nipple, making it tighten in response. "Surrender."
I surrendered to them long ago, but I'm willing to do it again and again because they're the only ones who make me feel worth fighting. Surrendering to them is as much a choice as fighting, and they both feel so fucking good. I resist the fluttering of my eyelids, try to stave off the impending orgasm, which I can feel building rapidly inside me as I focus on being a good girl for Killian, a nice warm place for his cock. He is my purpose in this moment, and as terrified as I am at the idea of what happens when he comes, I want to be the one to make that happen.
The fingers that slip inside me go easily, aided by the fact that I'm absolutely dripping. I moan around Killian as he thrusts in, pulling a groan from inside him that makes his abs clench.
"Fuck, Theo." Killian pants, and for one wild moment, jealousy sparks like a live wire in me at the fact he didn't call my name. "Finish her so I can let go."
His motions become a little less coordinated as he thrusts faster, his control slipping as he nears the edge. And then his instructions to Theo make sense, because Theo's fingers inside me curl as he releases my clit to run tight circles around it with his tongue and I feel myself hurtling fast and hard toward the point of no return. My whimpers crescendo in the air as Killian repeatedly takes away my ability to breathe, driving his hips against my face as Monty's teeth capture the same nipple he's been teasing.
"Oh fuck," I whimper, as a warm tingle spreads through my stomach, sparks from the livewire lighting through me. Theo slides his fingers back out, swirls them around me, and then drives them back in, hitting somewhere deep inside me, a place that I'm sure no one has ever touched.
I scream as the pleasure blows me apart, the way I was sure that the gun would when they fucked me with it last year, parts of me getting battered as the orgasm rips me into pieces, sending shockwaves through my toes and down to my fingertips, my body going from hot and heavy to feather light with the release, letting me float for one moment on a breeze.
But it's not over. They don't even let me touch the ground before Killian's fingers tighten painfully against my scalp and he grinds me against him like he's trying to smother me on him. Given what happened earlier, I'd think that was exactly what he meant to do, but he just buries himself deep as Monty tugs my hair back, opening my throat for Killian to pump his release down it. Hot spurts fall near the back of my tongue, too far back to recognize any sort of taste, and he keeps me hostage against him as his cock twitches, emptying inside me. When it finally begins to slow, after what feels like way too long, he slides out just enough for me to close my throat to swallow down everything he gave me, and then skates back a little, using my tongue to milk himself of every last drop.
"Fuck, Bambi." He groans, stroking a thumb by my mouth and smearing his essence across my lips.
Every part of me is burning, still, the fire raging, rekindled by the absolute look of powerlessness on Killian's face as he came for me, giving himself to me. I let my eyes flutter closed for just a moment, my head rolling against the pillow as I try to take a second to catch my breath, the pleasure that just shattered me into a million pieces already starting to reassemble.
"Uh-uh," Monty chuckles. "We aren't done with you yet, Poison. You've got more to take."