19. Motley
NINETEEN
Since it was Weston’s turn to spy on our angel and Harley is fixing up some of the stuff in the haunted house, I got stuck with twiddling my thumbs, waiting for her to get home from work. I told the guys we could’ve just hooded her when she was getting off work like we did a couple days ago, but Harley’s dumbass left the hood and collar on her when we dumped her last time. You’d think since we own a haunted house we’d find another fucking hood or perhaps even a pillowcase, but what do I know? Harley is the ringleader as our angel likes to call him.
With the hood on my mind, I go through her closet looking for it. Not finding anything, I walk into her bathroom, going through her dirty hamper. Nothing. Jesus, where does a girl keep a hood after she’s been kidnapped? She probably doesn’t.
After rummaging through her bathroom cabinets and drawers, I start heading towards her bed to lay down when I spot something slightly sticking out from under her bed. Bending down, I slide out the box, setting it down on the bed. My mouth drops wide open at the sight of how much money is in here when I pull out the diamond studded necklace. I put it to the side, noticing more valuable jewelry laying around. I’ve never seen her wear anything like this. Anything she’s worn hasn’t ever really been of value. Just typical clothes for a not-so-typical girl.
We’ve been watching Winver for fucking ever. The only thing that ever stood out to me was just how introverted she could be. Weeks at a time we would only watch her go to work then go home. It was boring, but she seemed to love every second of it. We had no other choice but to keep on watching her.
Snooping some more, come across two flash drives. I immediately put them in my pocket for later. After I’ve grown bored, having no desire to read whatever notes that lay in the box, I put the lid back on and slide it back under the bed, leaving the diamond necklace out. I’m not a diamond expert, but that definitely screams a lot of money. I kick off my shoes then sprawl out on her bed with the necklace slithered in between my fingers.
As time goes by, I look down at my phone noticing she should’ve been off thirty minutes ago. I dial Weston’s number to see where she’s at.
“Where is she?”
“Uh…she left like thirty minutes ago and drove like she was going to her place. She’s still not there yet?” he questions back.
“Obviously not if I’m asking you where she is, dipshit.”
“Call Harley,” he offers.
“No, that”ll just piss him off.”
Weston’s sigh is dramatically loud through the phone. “I’ll go talk to him and let you know.” He hangs up, leaving me wondering where she would have possibly gone. She and Ansley both work together, so I know she didn’t meet up for drinks. Of course, there’s always Chloe, but she hasn”t hung out with just Chloe in months.
Weston
She’ll be there soon. Be nice…
Remember, we need her.
Me
Lol…yeah ok.
Weston
Motley we’re already walking on thin ice. Let’s not make it thinner.
Me
Oof…I’m so scared.
He texts back but I don’t have time to look at it due to the front door opening and closing, letting me know she’s returned. I slide the mask that sits on top of my head over my face and get up to go wait behind the door, putting the necklace in my back pocket. I hear her little footsteps approach as she opens the door further blocking my view for a second. She shuts it back, still facing the other way. Now’s my time to shine.
“Where the fuck were you?” She yelps in surprise, whipping her body around. The sudden action makes her long, black ponytail flip to the other side.
“None of your fucking business,” she spits back.
“Actually, you are my fucking business.” I walk over to her, looking down at those brown eyes with fire lighting up around the irises.
“None of you own me.”
“Would you like us to?” I graze my knuckles along her cheek before she takes a step back, moving her head away.
“Starting right now, angel,” I take out the pocket knife from my waistband, flicking it open. Her eyes shift to the knife then back at me. I follow her with each step back that she takes until she’s cornered in. “You are fucking ours. What we say, you do,” I growl, putting the blade up to her throat. I barely apply pressure, but it’s enough to make her release a whimper.
“What do you want me to do right now, Motley?”
A smirk forms on my lips from her calling out my name. Looks like someone else also pays attention to detail.
“Right now?” I ask as I slowly glide the knife from her neck, down to her chest and circling around her already hardened nipples. “I want your tight cunt swallowing me while I cup your mouth and pinch your nose so you struggle to breathe.” Her heartbeat now races out of her chest and her face gets redder by the second. Continuing down with the knife, I trail down to her stomach then gently take the point, barely brushing over her mound through her black leggings.
“I want you on the verge of passing out when only then I’ll decide if you get to breathe again.” I poke the blade through her leggings, swiping the blade up and cutting a slit to her pussy.
“How wet is my angel?” I muse, running through her slit with my other two fingers. Soaked. I chuckle at her body’s admission. I raise my glistening hand up to her face, spreading my two fingers slowly so we both see her lust.
I shove the fingers in her mouth, making her taste herself. Her tongue laps over my fingers, licking and sucking everything up.
“Good girl,” I praise.
“I fucking hate y’all.”
“Yeah? Well your pussy seems to love us,” I say, grabbing a chunk of her hair and shoving her on the bed. I crawl on top of her, cutting her shirt and bra down the middle revealing those gorgeous tits I wanted to suck on last night. “Please, Motley…” she whimpers.
“Please what, angel?” I ask holding the knife up to her throat again.
“Fuck your hate into me.”
My body aches for a release. The pool in between my thighs only shows a little of how much I need this. We both do. He yanks the ruined leggings off me, revealing my commando state. Next his shirt comes off, throwing it next to my head. He leans into me, biting down on my bottom lip and pulling away slowly. “Your skin…” he says, grazing the knife over my chest and stomach. “It’s so markable.”
“Use me just like how I need you,” I whisper. I’m going to regret that statement and it’ll drown me alive, but right now, I can’t think clearly. He quickly turns me over face down and grabs my thighs, pulling them apart. I hear his jeans hit the floor and the nerves in my body start racking up. Without warning, he enters deep inside me with one powerful thrust.
“Shit,” he groans. My body thrashes on the bed from how rough he takes me from behind. He grips the sides of my hips, pulling them up for me to get on all fours. About to prop my arms up, he shifts his weight, forcing me to fall back down.
“Arch your back and stay right there,” he commands.
My pussy grips onto him repeatedly, his thick, long cock now feeling better and better after each rough thrust. “Fuck, Motley,” I moan out.
He smacks my ass, creating the perfect sensation to my upcoming high.
“You are nothing more than a hole for me to fill.” My back stings with pain, making me cry out a mixture of pain and pleasure as he marks me with his knife. “And a body to carve.”
With each thrust comes another cut. He marks and uses me, fucking and cutting his hate in me and on me.
The pain becomes consistent. I can feel my blood oozing out, but he shows no mercy. The pleasure building inside me now feels like it’s about to explode.
“Yes! Oh fuck, yes!” I moan out when he suddenly wraps his forearm over my neck, lifting me up to collide with his muscular, sweaty chest. The chokehold he has on me is strong. My face turns bright red with my oxygen growing thin. I reach a hand up, gripping his blonde hair tight.
“Coat my cock with your cum like you”re coating my chest with your blood. Do it all fucking over me, angel.”
His greedy tone has me about to reach my breaking point. “Yes! Yes! Fuck, Motley, yes!” I cry out in euphoria, convulsing around his cock releasing myself.
“Fuck,” he grunts out, pushing me back down on the bed. With him still plowing into me, he picks up his shirt that lays next to my head, covering my face with it. He pulls tightly, causing me to snap my head back.
With the material bunched up around my nose and mouth, every breath becomes harder to breathe, but that only adds on to my need to release all over him again. “Just like that, angel. Be a good girl while I steal your breath, no more talking.”
Even in this muffled state, I can feel the high starting to hit once again. My walls start closing in on his length, making him moan. “Mmm...fuuckk.”
We both start coming undone from each other. “Oh…fu-fuck, angel,” Motley whimpers as he fills me deep inside, letting go of the shirt around my head. I gasp in a breath, still riding my high. His thrusts slowly stop, pulling out almost too slowly, making me quiver. I feel his tongue start to lick up my back, lathering his tongue with a mix of sweat and blood.
“Fuck. You. Angel,” he says as if he just lost a battle within himself. Turning around, my mouth parts open at the sight of his body. All of it is bloody. The deep, red color painting almost his whole neck, chin, chest, arms, my blood even paints a little bit on his hair. He looks like he just went to town on an animal he just killed, not savoring an ounce. The smell of pure sex and metallic fill the room.
I scoot off the bed, standing tall now before him. Looking at his chest, I lean in, sticking my tongue and gliding it down to his stomach then up to his chest, tasting the coil flavor with a hint of salt. His abs twitch at the sudden feeling. Once I’ve made my way to the top of his chest, I keep my tongue stuck out, looking up at him. His tongue quickly glides across mine, licking up whatever blood was left on my tongue.
“You are the devil herself…” He looks at me with his blue eyes, and for the first time, I truly see their color. Nothing goes off in my head, but it’s nice seeing something else besides darkness.
“I’m your angel,” I whisper, getting closer to his face. His body starts to lean in and his eyes set on my lips. I start leaning in too, closing my eyes when he breaks away the moment, putting his clothes back on.
“I can start a shower for you if you want to wash–”
“No.” His voice now back to the dark and demanding tone.
“Do you want yo–”
“No, angel. I fucking don’t.” I grab what I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted, once again.
“Your knife, Motley. Take the fucking knife.” He rips it out of my hand, putting it back in his waistband. “And go out the front door this time!” I add on.
“You are walking out that front door with me whether you like it or not. Now go change. We’ll shower when we get there.” A wave of confusion strikes my face, but my eyebrows furrow in even more when Motley starts going through my closet, picking out clothes for me to put on.
“Change,” he orders, throwing me some black sweats and a black hoodie.
“And put these on.” He throws some tennis shoes next to my feet with some socks. Why am I getting dressed to go on a hike right now?
After putting everything on, I give him a three-sixty, holding my arms out. “Am I good?” I ask sarcastically.
“Grab your phone and let’s go,” he demands, walking out of my room and leaving me behind. Good, it’ll give me a few seconds to fucking think. Unclasping my purse, I notice the figurine and note. “Oh, Motley!” I call out but the front door slams, letting me know he’s outside waiting.
Groaning, I place the note and skeleton on my nightstand. I’ll come back to that later. I dig out my phone and keys, then run out through my room and out the front door, locking it behind me.
“How’d you get here?” I ask, looking around.
“I walked.”
“Are we?”
He snatches up my car keys, unlocking the doors. “No.”
“Can you just show yourself already?”
“No.”
“So you”re going to drive with the mask on?”
“Yes.”
All of his answers are very short, making it clear he’d rather be doing anything else. I don’t even try to argue for my keys back. The cuts in my back sting, hitting the cotton material as I fall back in the passenger seat. I haven’t even gotten a chance to see the damage yet and I’m honestly shitting myself for when I do.
I know what we did wasn’t out of love, but I don’t think he did that entirely out of hate, either. Was all of that even on his to-do list? What was the original goal? Because if it was just getting me back to their place, he failed miserably.