Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
NOLA
A caw grabs my attention, and I grin when I see Skittles sitting on the wall a few feet away.
“What are you doing here?” I laugh. “You need to go home. Whatever is about to happen, you do not need to see Mama like that.” I shake my head. “No child should see their mother in that kind of situation. Now, go home.” I shoo him.
“Whore,” he squawks. “Our dirty little whore.” He flaps his wings and takes off.
I gape at him as I watch him leave. “Rude!” I shout. And then I realize what he just said. Oh god, he was there the night I told the guys everything. He saw it all, heard it all.
I’ve traumatized my baby for life!
I understand what he might be going through, but we’re going to have to have a conversation about appropriate words, and what to say and not to say to his mother!
Wrapping my arms around myself, I lean against the wall, waiting for… well, I don’t know. Are they already inside, or are they going to meet me out here?
Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against the wall.
The sound of footsteps has my eyes snapping open, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Holy fuck,” I gasp, my hand on my chest as my heart beats widely behind my ribcage. “You scared me.”
Steadying my breathing, I stare up at them as they just stand there, not saying anything. “Uh, you okay?” I ask, looking between the three of them.
They’re wearing their plague doctor masks and are dressed in jeans and T-shirts.
These are my guys, right? My attention drops to their arms, and my shoulders slump in relief. I know their tattoos better than anyone. It’s definitely them.
So why aren’t they saying anything?
“I’m digging this whole dark and mysterious vibe, I am, but a little guidance would be nice. Are we gonna go in there…” I hike a thumb over my shoulder. “Or just stand around here in silence?”
Nothing. Okay then.
Jasper moves, my eyes darting down to watch as he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a piece of paper.
Wesley steps away and over to the gate. I watch as he opens the gate with a key, letting the heavy iron gate swing open with a squeak.
He stands there, arms crossed, like he’s waiting for something as he turns his attention towards me.
Right. The paper. Opening it, I let my eyes adjust to the dark as best they can. Squinting, I read the words on the paper.
Run. Try not to get caught.
That's all it says.
My heart kicks into gear, beating wildly. This time not in fear, but in excitement.
So, we’re playing a little game of cat and mouse, are we?
That is something I can get on board with.
My core grows wet with anticipation.
They are the hunters, I am the prey.
Fuck! I really wish I had worn sneakers for this.
And in a nightgown? Ugh.
My question is, why a nightgown? They don’t know about the night of the ritual, what I chose to wear, or that it was me under that mask. At least I’m not aware if they are.
Maybe seeing me in something as innocent as a nightgown as they chase me down and have their wicked way with me gets them hard?
Hey, who am I to kink shame? We fucked next to a dead body, and I touched myself while watching them murder people. We like what we like.
“Okay then.” I fold the paper back up and hand it over to Jasper. “You got it.”
He just stares at me, my hand hovering in the air.
“I’m just going to tuck this in here.” I step forward, slipping the paper back into his pocket. “Now, when do you want me to run? Now? Or…”
Sylas pulls something from his pocket and points it at me. Holy fuck, is that a gun?
“Now, got it. Okay.” I laugh awkwardly, feeling a little nervous now. They wouldn’t shoot me, right?
This is all for the game, I hope.
Either way, I don’t wanna find out. And I pray to fuck, these really are my guys and not guys with similar tattoos that I convinced myself are my guys because of how much I want this.
Taking a few steps backward, I nearly trip over my feet as I turn towards the entrance. “I’m just gonna slip past you here,” I tell Wesley, darting through the gate door that leads into the cemetery.
I take off, no idea where I’m going. I just run.
The cold, hard ground feels uncomfortable under my bare feet. It’s dark, with only the moonlight providing light to see by. This isn’t a cemetery I’ve been in often, so I’m not sure where anything is.
My heart races, blood pumping through my veins as I force my body to move.
Is this more like a hide and seek thing, or a tag you’re fucked kind of thing?
Either way, I’m down to play. I just wish I had more instructions on what kind of game we’re playing, you know?
Run. Don’t get caught. Okay, but what happens when I do get caught?
And if I’m not allowed to get caught, does that mean no one is fucking me tonight?
Because if that's the case, I don’t wanna play because I’m pretty sure I’m getting whatever the lady equivalent of blue balls is.
All of my inner ramblings throw off my focus, distracting me so I don’t see the giant hole in the ground.
With a sharp yelp, I fall into it, hitting something hard with a hollow thud.
“Fuck,” I gasp out, pain shooting through my body. “What the fuck?”
Groaning, I push myself up and look around. Am I in an open grave?
I look up, getting to my feet, and try to climb out, but my fingers slip, chunks of dirt falling to my feet. Fucking hell, this is not the time to be short! It’s just deep enough that I can’t get out.
Well, fuck me, this was the shortest game of tag I’ve ever played.
The sound of pounding footsteps has me panicking.
Shit. I don't want them to win already!
I mean, sure, if I get fucked in the end, I’m winning too, but I feel like this would be a waste of a good time to have it end so soon. I feel like they put some thought into this date.
It’s really sweet of them if you think about it. The party, the dance, and now a fun activity we can do together. Something we can bond over, building our connection.
It would be rude of me to make that all end so soon.
I look down and see that I’m standing on a casket. Lovely.
The footsteps grow closer, and I start to panic. Stepping as much to the side as I can, I place my feet on the bars on the side and work on opening it.
“Please be empty, please be empty, please be—” I groan as I manage to open it up, only to find a fully decomposed body.
The only thing left behind are the bones.
At least there’s no smell. How long has this man been here?
“Uh fuck,” I groan and sigh. “Sorry, man.” I slip inside the casket, trying not to think about the fact that I’m cuddling up to the remains of a dead man.
Fucking bones! At least there’s no rotting flesh. I’ll take that as a win.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologize, wincing when something stabs me in the ass. “Do you have a boner?” I ask with a giggle. “Get it? BONE-r. Because you're all bones.”
What I’d like to know is… why is there an open grave if this guy has been dead for a long time? My guess is they were digging him up to move him somewhere else.
At the sound of thumping from someone nearby, I slap a hand over my mouth and close my eyes.
I do my best to steady my breathing, not making a sound.
Just when I think they’re gone, a loud bang on the casket has me screaming against my palm just before it opens.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper as I look up at the masked man looming over me.
“Looks like I’ve found myself a Little Rabbit. Interesting hiding place.” Wesley says. Fuck. He’s found me.
For a second, I think he’s going to demand I get out, grab me, and pull me up, but no.
This crazy fucker opens the casket fully, and then he climbs into the damn casket with me.
I’m too stunned to speak, just gaping at him as he crawls on top of me. “Should I be jealous?” he asks me, cocking his head to the side. “Lying with another man in his eternal resting place?” he tsks. “I’ll have to remind you who you belong to, won’t I?”
Is this happening right now? Or am I dreaming? I have to be dreaming, right? Because there is no fucking way Wesley is adjusting himself over me, and is he… he is not pulling his cock out?!
Holy fuck, he is.
“A bit of a tight fit.” He grabs my leg and pulls it over his waist, then he’s pulling my panties to the side.
I gasp when I feel the blunt tip of his cock pressing against my pussy.
“Shh,” he hushes, holding himself up with one hand and covering my mouth with his other. “Don’t want them to hear us. Not until I’m done with you,” he chuckles.
My eyes roll back as I moan against the palm of his hand when he thrusts forward, his pierced cock stretching me open.
This is so messed up, isn’t it?
So why am I so wet right now?
“That's it,” he grunts as she starts to fuck me in hard, shallow thrusts. “You’re so fucking wet, Little Rabbit. Fucking dripping all over my cock already. Does me fucking you on top of this dead person turn you on?”
I mean, not really. Just him in general does, but I don’t want to ruin the moment.
I whimper, nodding my head as my nostrils flare, struggling to breathe through my nose as pleasure builds inside me.
“Been waiting to have this cunt again. Fuck. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” he grunts, his piercing rubbing against my inner walls, feeling so damn good.
Every time he bottoms out, he brushes against my sweet spot, his pelvic bone rubbing against my clit, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
My body is on fire, my nipples so hard they hurt. I’m so close already that it’s not even funny.
But everything about this moment is so wrong, so dirty, so fucking erotic.
I stare up at him, eyes wide and wild as he grunts, breathing through his gritted teeth as he fucks into me, his pace quickening.
“I’m gonna cum,” he growls low. “Gonna fill this pussy full of my seed. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Your greedy cunt getting filled.”
I nod, trying to ignore the pain in my back from the uneven bones poking into my flesh.
“Fuck,” he curses before he thrusts forward, his cock buried deep. I feel his cock twitching inside me, the feeling of his hot, warm cum filling me is about to send me into my own orgasm.