Chapter 2 #2
Bryce straddles my shoulder, his hardness bumping my chin.
Hunter pulls back until I gasp for air, just as Bryce taps his way inside, timidly at first. With cheeks flaming red and a snotty nose, I narrow my eyes at Hunter, who watches me take his friend.
His gaze fills with lust as I do, and I stroke him languidly while letting Bryce shift his hips against my face.
This time, I take the lead. I grip both men, jerking them until they grunt, then pull back to take a breath. While resting on my calves, I lick my lips and give them each a smirk, making sure the flash of the camera is on my face.
I lift my eyes to Hunter’s, my mouth curling into the smallest, sweetest smile. “You love me, don’t you?”
Hunter hesitantly nods, as if in a daze.
So I take his dick and press the tip against his best friend’s.
“What the fuck, Olivia!” Hunter takes an instinctive step back, but Bryce whimpers.
A tiny, erotic, needy sound…
“Closer” is the only command that resonates through the room. It shatters any illusion of control Hunter thinks he has. The hypnotic tone lulls him back to me…and to his friend, but the scowl on President Remington’s face remains.
I blink innocently while stroking him and his friend. “Sorry,” I whisper, then stuff his dick back in my mouth before he can protest.
Bryce’s is short and stubby, while my boyfriend’s is longer, but with a bend. When I take it out of my mouth and casually stuff Bryce’s in, its length is enough to still touch his friend’s dick.
Hunter swears an airy curse, but doesn’t move away this time. So, I sit on my heels and take both cocks in my hand, slowly wetting the shafts with spit, then tap their ends together.
Bryce bites his lip and tosses his head back while Hunter’s breathing picks up. A puff of air blows down on me as he whispers, “O-Olivia, what are you doing?” But there’s no argument in it. I swirl the heads together, then rest them on my tongue before attempting to wrap my lips around both.
“Oh, fuck me.” Bryce gasps. It isn’t just arousal…it’s shame. And then he looks at Hunter.
Hunter gazes back at him for one heartbeat. Two.
Their eyes are locked in a moment neither can escape.
Bryce moves first. Lust consumes his face until he inadvertently reaches out for Hunter’s hip to steady himself. Hunter slides his eyes down Bryce’s chest to his abs, then lower.
From the back of the room, a quiet voice interrupts their moment. “Stroke his cock.”
“Fuck you…”
“No, fuck each other,” Vanq commands.
I pull the dicks out, rub them together, then stick them back inside. Every time they meet my lips, the muscles throb whenever they’re close. I do it again, the heads fitting neatly together, rolling them around and around in circles as they drip pre-cum from the holes.
The next time I pull out, Hunter grabs his dick and Bryce’s in one of his hands.
And like he’s furious with himself, with the world, he yanks his friend closer, jerking madly while I watch.
Bryce’s hand gently touches Hunter’s side as Hunter’s free one strokes my hair.
But even trying to include me in this is only a spectacle.
Bryce is recording two cocks rubbing, growing redder and harder with every stroke. Both stare at where they’re joined as I gain a level of satisfaction I never thought I’d have. Victory in Hunter’s defeat.
On camera.
“Babe, please. Be a dirty slut for once in your life and suck us both off.” Hunter attempts to regain the upper hand and aims his length at me again, but he’s interrupted with a furious, sharp snap.
“Don’t you dare finish in her mouth. Not one fucking drop on her,” Vanq says, and his next instruction pulls the oxygen from the room. “Come on his dick. Show him how much you want him.”
“I can’t… I can’t…” Hunter grunts with every thrust forward of his hips. Each grip of his hands grows tighter. His eyes glazed with ecstasy.
Bryce gasps a high-pitched, broken sound, his body jerking violently.
The second his cum splashes over Hunter’s cock, his breath catches in a strangled moan.
Hunter flinches until his eyes grow wide with realization.
His lips part like he wants to deny what’s happening, even as he grips both of them in his fist.
“D-Damn,” Bryce stammers with his chest heaving.
Hunter swipes his hand on Bryce’s shirt like he’s disgusted. But it’s too late.
As I attempt to avoid Hunter’s impending eruption, Bryce’s body jerks back as Hunter’s warm cum sprays all over him. I squint to avoid any in my eyes, but it doesn’t stop. It’s hot. And smells of iron.
“Holy shit!” Hunter yells breathlessly.
When I open my eyes, all I see is red.
Searing crimson life force gushes from Bryce’s neck as his mouth opens like a silent screaming maw. His legs shake as he clutches at the offending forearm as it slices his neck from ear to ear until he can struggle no more and slumps to the ground, falling face first in front of me.
The wail never fully leaves Hunter’s throat before it drowns in a gurgle.
A wet, sticky sound, like the last squeeze of a ketchup bottle, erupts from Bryce’s neck.
Something warm splatters across my lips.
The metallic tang is instant. My stomach turns.
I blink at Bryce as his body convulses on the dark concrete.
Fingers twitching. Eyes glossy, like he’s watching something only he can see.
Hunter struggles to step back. His pants surround his ankles, preventing him from moving. Perhaps my fingers dangle to try to reach for him, my arm only dripping with the leftovers of what was Bryce Holloway, Beta senior.
Like a horror film, I squat in awe at the scene I behold. It feels like a movie. I’m not really here anymore.
Not when the masked man floats behind Hunter and slices his neck open without struggle, my boyfriend’s life draining in waves all over my once sparkling gold designer dress. Those stains won’t ever come out.
My hair clings to my skin, soaked with blood. Muscles ache in a way they never have, and I’m sure bruises will speckle my knees. Some of Hunter’s cum has mixed in with the other remnants.
As I glance at the bodies of the two men lying in front of me, part of me thinks of making a round of riotous applause. The curtain has closed, and the act has ended.
But then reality sinks in.
I think my boyfriend is dead.
And the figure standing over me in black gazes upon me. When I look up, terror strikes like a branding iron. My hands raise defensively, as if that will stop him. “Please…no. Please, don’t hurt me.”
I know I should scream or run—do anything but submit—but the knife in his hand is mine. And the last shred of my strength drained away with Hunter’s final smile.
He’s still like a statue, other than a slight head tilt as if he’s concerned. Tears seep from my eyes, washing away some of the blurriness that was there before. The man squats to level his black mask close to me. I have nowhere to escape to. My back is against the wall.
This is it.
Never appointed. Died without succeeding. And my last moment of humiliation was all caught on camera.
Vanq flicks the knife closed and holds it up. “This is your knife.”
I’m too breathless to respond, other than with a whimpered affirmation.
“And that was your boyfriend. And his friend. And their blood coating your pretty dress.” There’s a pause so long that I worry he’s going to open the blade and slice me open. My legs quiver with anticipation. “Your camera phone recording you not wanting to give them what they demanded.”
“Wh-what are you saying?”
He presses my weapon into my hand and stands. “Looks like Olivia Marie Cardell had a violent streak when she couldn’t take it anymore.”
Doom strikes my soul. If I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it just did.
He’s right. I could easily be wanted for their murders. I turn my father’s gift over in my hand.
“What do you want from me?” I manage to squeak out. If I look at him, I’ll die of anxiety. The beats of my heart aren’t even in rhythm anymore. Tension grows so long, I think of repeating myself, or just passing out. I’m dizzy.
“For you to run.”
A sharp inhale of air parts my lips as I slowly lift my head. Is he serious? When I don’t move, he says the only thing I need to hear before I spring into action.
“You were crafted to obey, weren’t you?” He leans in and lets the silence stretch until my lungs ache from holding my breath.
“Run, little caterpillar. Run before I decide you’re not ready to fly.”