47. Vincent
Vincent
“YOU WENT TOO FAR THIS TIME.”
Citizen Soldier Playlist
“Mess of Me”
I’m this fucking close to tackling Rory again as he keeps pumping into Briella even while she’s unconscious. Like he’s trying to get every last drop of cum in her.
We’ve mentioned it a time or two. If a woman survived the Initiation…yes, they’d fuck babies into her. Heirs. Heirs for these gods and monsters.
No better Queen for their offspring.
Not me. Not Raphael.
The only thing I don’t understand is why Jude tensed up like he did at Rory’s words.
Saw the vein throbbing in his neck. But it was so brief, I don’t think anything else of it.
Mmm…not jealousy. I can only assume it’s his doctor side taking over, his innate protectiveness, since he’s not the baby kind of doctor.
When Rory pulls out, Seth marvels at the globs of cum leaking out of Briella. Her head falls back, showing the elegant curve of her throat. But all we can seem to focus on is her pussy—so puffy and red. And the damn clamps are still vibrating.
“Raphael…” Jude looks to our alpha. “We need to finish this. I need to fucking treat her.”
Jude throws down with him. Raphael doesn’t blink, but he does nod a firm agreement before turning to each of us. “Adjust the ropes so she’s upright. Vincent, take her ass. Jude her pussy. Seth, face-fuck her.”
“Are we…uh…waking her up?” Seth wonders, adjusting the ropes as commanded. His muscles flex and shudder as he takes his place at her side, turning her head and positioning his tip at her lips.
“No. If she wakes, she wakes.”
“Get me some goddamn oil first,” I insist, and Jude hurries to get it from his medical bag, his nine-inch dick bouncing against his lower thigh.
He tosses the oil to me. I catch it and waste no time slathering it all over myself before injecting two fingers in her ass.
Her ring of muscles instinctively clenches.
You’d think Rory never destroyed her in that dungeon.
“Best ass ye’ll have, Vincent.”
“Shut up, Rory.”
“Temper, temper,” he croons behind me. “Maybe Jude will fuck it out of ye later.”
Oh, that red-blooded bastard did not just pinch my ass. A roaring growl rears up in me, and I brace my fist until—
“Vincent,” Jude stops me while he gets between her legs. “Not now. Finish this. Let me help her.”
Nodding firmly, shoulders heaving, I push my tip into her anal ring.
Seth is already thrusting into her mouth.
A slow plunge, so those piercings are visible through her narrow throat.
Jude takes her pussy. We slide in together, and my tattoos disappear inside her ass one inch at a time until I’m seated in her.
“Fuck, she’s tight,” I curse, already close to coming. From one damn thrust.
“I feel you, Vincent,” Jude acknowledges, and I glance at where he is. Arousal vibrates in my chest at the sight of him buried inside her. I feel him, too. I wonder what it would feel like for both of us inside her. How tight she’d be. His Jacob Ladder piercings rubbing against my cock.
He’ll put it inside me only if I want him to. I’ve never taken piercings. Because the underground ring boss fucked me before fights. It got me in a rage. And I took the goddamn pain. Cause he paid me more.
We all have scars haunting us. Maybe Briella has the most. But it’s the first time I’ve ever wanted a woman to see the damage inside me, the wreck I am. Maybe when all this shit is done…maybe I’ll take the mask off for her.
“Oh, God, her throat is so tight, I’m gonna nut in her. Catch up, boys,” Seth dares with his mischievous grin. Rory watches nearby, hugging his arms.
It takes all of three thrusts before I shoot my cum inside her. Jude’s thighs flex right before he jerks with three rapid-fire thrusts and comes inside her. The second he does, he’s already working the ropes off her.
Seth and I help him.
“Stabilize her upper body, Vincent,” he commands, then nods to Seth. “Get my medical bag.”
Something in his eyes and the steeliness of his jaw concern me. His neck muscles are tighter than ever. We all watch him work in a respectful silence as he sticks a needle in her, numbing the area before snapping the arrow, cleaning with antiseptic, then wrapping the wound. Temporary splint.
“Goddammit, she’s burning up,” he curses and fishes inside his bag for a thermometer, but he doesn’t need it.
“Fever’s climbing. Could be from the exposure, but more likely from the wound.
She’s got hypothermia. Leg wound possibly infected.
Likely. And she passed out from the pain and shock. Maybe both.”
Raphael stiffens.
Jude’s jaw tightens as he pulls out a small IV bag from his kit, hooking it up with the kind of furious calm that makes even Raphael shut the fuck up for once. He gets a line in her arm. The moment he’s sure it’s dripping, he rolls his shoulders like he’s forcing himself not to snap.
Even Rory is keen on the whole shit show going down, his damn shaft hung as usual, but he’s not getting a rise out of this.
We’re all fucking scared shitless at the idea of her dying.
I burn my eyes against Raphael’s. He still doesn’t blink.
Almost consider using the one card I have over him. Almost.
I kneel beside Jude, wrapping my hoodie around her like a makeshift blanket. “I’ll carry her.”
“I should—” Jude starts.
“No. You need your hands in case anything happens on the way to the truck.” I jerk my chin to Seth.
“Help me. Keep the bag steady.” I’m already lifting her gently into my arms. I’ve also got the most body heat.
Seth is at my side in seconds. Her skin is scalding, sweat slicking her brow.
But she breathes. Shallow. Steady. “We’ve gotta move. ”
“Back to the cabin,” Jude agrees grimly. “We’ve got less than an hour before things could turn really bad.”
He stands and turns to Raphael, his tone dropping into something colder than I’ve ever heard from him. “You went too far this time.”
Raphael doesn’t flinch. He just tilts his head, wet black hair plastered to the sides of his face, thickening the shadows. “She needed it.”
“She has a goddamn fever,” Jude growls. “That arrow wound? The hours of exposure before we caught her? You think this is a fucking game?”
Jude’s the tallest of us, and the way he moves now—towering, thunder behind his eyes—nearly stops my blood. His shadow cuts across Raphael like a blade, and for a moment, I wonder if he’ll actually do it. If he’ll strike him.
But Raphael doesn’t move. Doesn’t yield. He’s above all that. Above all of us. His mouth curves into something darker than a smile.
“She needed to know,” Raphael says, tone sinister. “How far we’d go. There’s no running from us. Not anymore. She knows who she is now. And you, Jude Malachai Voss, will not allow her to die.”
There’s a pause thick enough to choke on. Rain streaks down Jude’s face, but his expression doesn’t shift. I see it—he wants to hit him. But Raphael? He’s already claimed something bigger than life or death. And he knows it.
Raphael doesn’t have a heart. He doesn’t need a heart.
Not when he’s already got hers. Because he took more than just her soul tonight.
“Let’s move.” Jude steps toward the forest. “Now.”