Chapter Eleven
Kain
I thought Skye was a spoiled little rich girl, hence the nickname cashmere. Yet after watching her at her mother’s house, I see her for who she really is—someone trapped in a world where she doesn’t belong.
I never take on jobs like this, but Silas looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes, and he’s hard to fucking resist. I’m a sucker for them.
He’s standing beside me now, a cigarette dangling from his lips like he’s in some fucking movie. “You’re watching her again,” he says.
I don’t answer because he’s right; I am watching her on the screen of my phone.
She is nothing like I expected, and ever since seeing her at her mom’s, I feel an overwhelming need to protect her, the same as I do with him and Zay.
We left a note on her bed tonight, knowing she might need the distraction.
“What if she doesn’t come?” Silas asks.
“She’ll come.” He didn’t see how upset she was, how much she needs this in her life.
“She has to,” Zay adds. He is as hooked on her now as Silas, and if I’m being honest, I have no plans to let her go either, not after seeing how vulnerable she is.
“Get into position. She’ll be here any minute now.”
They both head off and find a place to hide. We plan to chase her to an old cemetery, one that is never used anymore, the relatives of the dead long gone.
It’s 12:15 a.m. She is late.
I bring up the tracking app on my phone. Silas was tracking her car earlier, and I see she is now almost here. I parked off the road so she wouldn’t see my truck, and we hiked the short distance here. As I slide my phone away, I watch her car pull in.
She climbs out of her car, clutching her phone, the dim light illuminating her face. Her hair is braided tight, and she is wearing workout gear. Smart girl, she is here to run.
Zay’s low whistle echoes from somewhere above. He’s most likely sitting on a tree branch waiting for her to walk by.
I stay still. Watching her.
Skye spots the gift box sitting at the start of the path.
I watch as she bends down and opens it, then pulls out the contents and the note.
It gives her instructions, a GPS tracker to put on her leg because we can’t risk her getting lost out here—the last thing we want is for her to go missing and die—and a headlamp.
Sure, it’s not that sexy, but there are no lights beyond this area, and it’s pitch black out there.
She straps the tracker to her ankle and puts the light on. That is Silas’s cue.
“Fifteen minutes late, little obsession. Time to run.”
She takes off, and the first leg is quite easy, but where we plan to herd her, it will get harder to navigate.
I stalk the edge of her path while Silas trails behind. Skye glances over her shoulder but keeps running. She can hear us following her but can’t see us—not yet.
Zay drops from a tree in front of her, and her scream pierces the air.
She cuts right just like we planned, veering off the track and ducking beneath the tree branches as she tries to slip off again.
Silas’s mask flicks on briefly, and she races back onto the track.
The old cemetery comes into view, and as she reaches the clearing, she stops and spins around.
Genuine fear laces her features, and I smile behind my mask.
It’s one thing to want the chase when the fear isn’t real, but cemeteries freak the fuck out of people.
Most people are scared of death, and anything to do with it, or the thought that there is some ghost about to pop out of nowhere.
“Don’t stop now. Unless you want to be fucked beside an old grave,” I taunt, and her eyes widen, then she takes off running again.
Silas moves behind her but keeps his distance.
She glances over her shoulder, her pace faltering for just a moment before she pushes harder.
“That’s it,” I mutter under my breath. “Keep running.”
I shadow her along the main path, though she can’t pinpoint where we are with our masks turned off and our dark clothing.
Her pace slows as she approaches the fork in the path that leads to the older section. Zay jumps out, startling her, and Skye’s scream pierces the air.
She cuts hard to the right, exactly where we want her to go.
“Good girl,” I say.
At my words, she tries to cut back left, probably hoping to circle back to the main path, but Silas’s purple glow mask flickers to life and she jerks back on course.
The ground is a mess of roots, holes, and rocks. She stumbles, then catches herself and keeps going.
I admire her determination as I pick up my pace and close the distance. She’s heading for the old chapel ruins, and once she’s in there, she’ll be trapped. The broken stone walls come into view, and I smile behind my mask. There’s only one way in and out.
Skye reaches the ruins and spins around, looking for another escape.
We step out from behind the trees, our masks now illuminating the darkness, and she backs up against a stone wall.
“Run all you want. I’ll always find you,” Silas says. She doesn’t know how much he means it; this isn’t a game for him.
Skye’s breaths are rapid, but I can see the look in her eyes. It’s the same one from the alley, when I tested whether this was what she really wanted. She’s scared, but she wants this.
I step closer until she is looking up at me, tears lacing her eyelashes. “You’re even more perfect when you’re scared. Maybe we should kidnap you and keep you for ourselves.”
“Yes, please. Then I wouldn’t have to go to that stupid gala and meet my future husband.”
Silas steps forward and pushes me aside. He grabs her chin and forces her head to him. “No one is touching what’s mine.”
She smiles weakly. “Unfortunately, unless I come up with a better suitor, I have no choice.”
Silas doesn’t say anything, but I know what he is thinking—he is going to that gala, one way or another.
I have an idea, one that could backfire in our faces. Either way, she will have a choice: she’s in or out.
“How about we fuck you stupid and take your mind off it?” Zay’s words break the tension.
Silas wipes the tears from her eyes with his thumbs, and she blinks up at him.
He remains silent, though I’m sure right now he is trying to talk himself off a ledge.
The situation is hurting her, which hurts him, and I will be fucked if I don’t have a twinge of anger at the bitch who is insisting on marrying her daughter off to the richest asshole she can find, as if her daughter is some kind of trophy.
He slides his hands down her sides and grips her thighs, then lifts her like she weighs nothing. She lets out a startled sound as he moves into the ruined crypt and sets her on the cracked stone altar.
“Eyes on me,” he says.
He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of her leggings, and she lifts her ass as he drags the fabric down, baring the soft skin of her thighs. Her legs tremble as he peels her sports bra over her head, goosebumps lining her skin from his touch.
Zay groans, stepping closer, while I stay back, watching over them.
Silas kneels in front of her, slipping her underwear down her legs. When she’s bare, he sets them on the altar beside her, then spreads her knees apart.
“Fucking perfect,” I say.
“Not perfect,” Zay adds, placing a hand on Silas’ shoulder. “A work of fucking art.”
“Tonight we are going to blindfold you,” Silas says, then stands and pulls the material from his pocket, securing it over her eyes.
Her lips part as her chest rises and falls too fast, her panic of not being able to see kicking in.
“Breathe in through your nose, and out your mouth,” I say calmly.
She nods and does as I ask, her breathing slowly returning to normal.
Silas and Zay remove their masks, while I stay where I am.
Zay replaces Silas between her legs and drops to his knees, then drags his hands up her calves, spreading her knees wider. His hands grip her hips, and he lowers his head.
Skye jolts when his tongue touches her, hands grabbing at the edge of the stone altar. Her hips buck as he eats her out, and her moans are a sound I never thought I would enjoy.
Silas moves to stand near her head. His hands slide down her arms, then he traces her ribs with his fingers as he bends down to place light kisses on her shoulder.
Her body arches, and her knees tremble.
“Hold her still,” I say.
Silas plants his palms on her hips, alongside Zay’s, and locks her in place.
Zay groans, then pulls back to grab his mask. He holds it over his face as he steps aside, so she doesn’t hear his real voice. “She’s ready.”
I move forward as I push my pants down, then wrap my hand around her hip, sliding my fingers between Silas’s.
Her head tips back as she gasps in pleasure.
He tightens his hold as I drive in slowly. Zay moves to her other side. He takes her chin in his hand, angles her head to the side, and pushes his cock between her lips.
My pace quickens as I lift one of her legs over my shoulder and thrust deeper. Zay rocks into her mouth, his hips moving in a slow rhythm.
When my release builds, I pull out, not ready for this to end. Instead, I nod to Silas. “Move her.”
Zay pulls out of her mouth, and they each take an arm and help her sit up, then move her onto her hands and knees.
Zay pushes her legs apart while Silas climbs up behind her. He removes his cock from his pants, grips the base, then swipes it through her wet pussy to lube himself. He leans over her as he thrusts into her slowly, taking his time and allowing her to adjust to his size.
Zay stands at her side, stroking her clit while Silas drives into her from behind.
Skye’s moans echo through the crypt, then bounce out into the dark night air.
I move behind Silas, and he stops when he feels my hand moving between him and Skye.
I make sure my fingers are nice and wet, but Skye still whimpers when I push my fingers into her tight little cunt alongside Silas’s cock.
Then, stepping back, I move behind Silas and spread Skye’s juices on his hole, circling it a couple times.
He clenches but then relaxes as I push my fingers inside him, biting back a muffled noise that threatens to escape.
Zay stops rubbing Skye’s clit and instead runs his hand down her spine, a smirk blooming on his face when he reaches her ass. He gives me a slight nod as he presses his thumb into her puckered hole.
“I need you to move, please,” she begs, pushing her ass back.
Silas grips her hips harder, moving once again. And when I hit the right spot, Silas shudders, his hips jerking as I drive my fingers into his ass. Zay uses his free hand to fist Skye’s hair, pulling her head back.
“Fuck . . . that’s it,” I growl.
Silas loses his rhythm as I thrust into him harder, forcing him forward into her.
Skye cries out in pleasure, her body trembling. Her body tenses and her arms shake.
“Such a good little obsession,” I praise.
Silas’s movements turn frantic, and I feel him clenching tightly around me.
Zay pulls out of her ass and releases her hair to climb up in front of her. I wouldn’t be surprised if the altar crumbles under them. He strokes himself at the same speed as Silas’s thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting her lips.
“I’m going to come. Please, oh god, please!” Her whole body locks up as she screams, but Silas only drives into her harder. His grip on her hips will leave bruises as he slams in deep and then holds himself there, spilling inside her.
Zay strokes the length of his cock and comes against her lips. Her tongue darts out, and she licks the salty liquid with an appreciative hum.
When Silas relaxes, I pull my fingers out, my cock still straining hard. Though I plan to fix that problem soon.
Silas and Zay get down from the altar and put their masks back on, then Silas pulls the blindfold from Skye’s eyes while Zay crouches to gather her clothes, passing them to Silas. They dress her in silence, her body exhausted, though she looks over at me and gives me a small smile.
When she’s dressed, I step closer and direct Silas. “Get her back to her car.”
He nods and lifts her into his arms.
She curls against his chest, eyes half-shut, and he carries her out.
I turn to Zay. “Bend over the altar.”
I know under his mask he is smirking at me wickedly; he likes to fuck anywhere, anytime. I would have chosen Silas to remind him he’s mine, but I think it would have pushed him too far. Bodily fluids, dirt, and fucking outdoors is enough for one night.
Zay pulls his mask off and drops it to the ground, then he pushes down his still-unbuttoned pants and sets his hands on the altar, spreading his legs.
“Fuck me, big boy,” he taunts.
I step up behind him and lift my mask momentarily to spit into my hand, using it to lube my cock. I then grab his hips and slam into him hard.
Zay groans through the pain, his head dropping forward.
“You like being used?” I growl out.
“Yes,” he gasps.
I drive into him fast, and the sound of skin on skin fills the crypt.
“You get hard watching her be fucked.”
“Yeah . . . fuck,” he chokes out.
“You wanted my cock the whole time,” I say harshly. It’s not a question.
“Y-yes, fuck yes,” he stammers, pushing back onto me.
I fist his hair and yank his head back. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” he moans. “I belong to you.”
My thrusts turn brutal, and his arms shake under the pressure.
“You’ll come when I tell you,” I bite out, then release my hold on his hair.
“Please, please—”
“Not yet.”
I pound into him harder, both hands on his hips, my grip bruising.
“Touch yourself, feel your cock dripping for me.”
He reaches down, and I fuck him harder. Finally, after one last deep thrust, I stop to wrap my hand around his throat and squeeze.
“Now,” I growl as I pull back a little, then continue with short, fast thrusts.
His whole body seizes.
“I’m going to fill you . . . take all of it.”
“I’m coming . . . fuck, I’m coming!”
Driving deep once more, I come hard inside him, holding him down as he gasps for air.