CHAPTER TEN
BUNNY
Heart hammering, dizzying breaths dry my throat, swallowing against the possessive lock he has on me with his hand. “And misery’s not always pain,” I reply.
He just… He, uh… He put a popsicle inside me and made me see serenity with a lap of his tongue. Yet the hunger he’s staring at my mouth with is combusting the carnal burn that’s been building since he grabbed me and tossed me over his shoulder an hour ago.
The chainsaws are still a thought in the back of my mind, not fully dissolved but not important enough to dwell on. Not with how close he is to my mouth.
“Do you wanna kiss me, Bunny?” he whispers, coasting his other hand up my thigh, forcing my leg tighter against the slow thrust of his hips. “Do you like that I wanna do gross things to you? Like, fuck you with a popsicle and make you eat it? Do you wanna know what else I wanna do?”
The salacious questions web into the stomach dropping fact that he overheard Ora and me on the bleachers the other day.
Maybe it’s a blessing he doesn’t let me respond. Nothing intelligible would come out of my mouth with how jarred I am.
His hand slips around my throat and he grabs the side of my neck, stroking his thumb down the nervous swallow he’s inducing as he brushes his lips up mine.
“Tell me you want me to kiss you,” he pleads hoarsely, his warm breath enhancing the heat sticking to my face.
“Not yet…” I frown, moving my hand to the sweat dampening the black fabric on his chest and tracing the tip of my forefinger along his barbed wire chain.
Slowly, his eyes slide up from my mouth, the dark yearn drilling past my pupils to unlock the reason why.
But he already knows.
And him not immediately leaning away, like it’s such a disturbing thing to feel everything too deeply, leads me to believe that he could be my sanguine through the looped misery.
“You just want me to play with your pussy?” he tilts his head, using his free hand to pry my knee from his hip.
“I’ll play with it until you love me, Bunny.
And after,-” he brushes his fingers along my inner thigh, peering down between us at what he’s going to destroy “-I’ll never let you forget my name. ”
His soft touch feathering closer to what he started but hasn’t finished breezes a whimper through my nose—like the impressionable “prey” I am. “Your stage name?” I question quietly.
He skims his fingertips over my clit, shooting me another lewd smile as my body reacts with a twitch. “This is all a performance. So… let me give you something worth applauding.”
Strumming his fingers against me, the pressure expanding up my navel drops my jaw, and he places a fervent kiss on my cheek.
“So sweet, little bunny,” he whispers.
I almost don’t hear him. Between the spins of adrenaline and the old blades rotating behind me, I feel like I’m drowning, like I passed out from heat exhaustion, and I’ll wake up to Carl hitting me in my tent.
But those are the thoughts that take me several steps back. The thoughts that thicken my throat and chest with a weight that makes me lose control.
His lips working down my neck bring me back.
They attack the delusions and force me to accept reality for what it is.
And registering the switch to his thumb on my clit, his fingertips circling my vagina and easing in, has me grabbing his prodded chain and granting him more access to my neck by tilting my head back.
“Do you think of me?” he asks, using my moan as encouragement to stretch me open with two fingers.
“Yes,” my chest heaves, straightening my neck to watch him trail his affection between my breasts, my sticky hand gravitating back into his hair.
Drawing out a long kiss, he pumps his fingers, his eyes turning to hunting slivers as he looks up at me. “Does it feel this good when you do? You’re soaking my fingers like you’ve never been touched before.”
Rubbing his thumb in circles, he starts tapping upward, the pulsing motion causing embarrassing sounds from between my legs and my mouth.
“No, you do it better,” I rush.
“Than? Who do I do it better than, Bunny?”
With a hot gust, he’s wrapping his forearms around my thighs, spreading me so far open my hips flatten to the nightstand, and he drops his criminal face in between my legs.
“Me… You do it better than me,” I moan pathetically, a long cry belting off my tongue from how good it feels to be sucked into his mouth.
Like he approves, he forcefully pins my legs in place and starts cycloning his tongue.
Needing to swap hands for stability, I drop my left hand back behind me and curl my tingling right hand over the whimpers coming out of my mouth.
His eyes cut up to me, his brows furrowing vexedly.
I uncover my mouth, keeping the sounds locked in my chest. “They’re gonna be back any minute, Razor. They’re gonna see us, maybe hear me from outside.”
Being a theatrical dick, he kneads into my thighs, rolling his eyes back and oscillating his head with the motion of his tongue. The groan he lets out rumbles against me. And I can’t say the vibration itself is riddling me with the sensation of burning alive.
It’s just the visual of him being enthusiastic while drowning my pussy with his saliva.
Everything is soaked. Dripping. The temperature seems to only be increasing in this room, which has us sticking together with sweat. But that’s not what’s puddling underneath me. His slippery tongue is salivating heavily, manifesting an even bigger mess to drain from my deprived core.
My hips jut forward, grinding tensely against his tongue with limited mobility. The lights flashing inside my body are stretching, ringing the bells that send my eyes rolling back.
I’m usually fast at silencing myself. I know how to smother my mouth and block my throat to harbor the release.
But I’m latching into his wet hair and letting the euphoria shred up my throat and circulate the room.
My shoulders twitch inward and my hips roll harder, shamelessly chasing the high that makes me forget about everything for a few minutes.
He’s not done.
He’s still consuming me, like he’ll be damned to miss a moment, a drop. Like, he wants someone to walk past the open door and see how much he enjoys taking my pain away.
The shocking jolts of too much tension rushes in a pervasive angst. My eyes round and my chest sinks, and I quickly push him away by his forehead.
“I’m done! Too much!” Wiggling loose in his masculine grip, I look straight at his arrogant stillness, crawling back until my spine hits the fan. “You can go.”
Gently sucking on his shiny bottom lip, he continues to match my eye contact, staring through the saturated dark hair lying over the beads of sweat on his nose and cheeks. “You kicking me out?”
I shrug timidly, trying to close my legs without him noticing.
Letting his hands drift along my moving thighs, he shifts up, inching over my trembling body until the musk on his breath is defeating the crappy fan and lingering over my mouth.
“Are you gonna keep thinking about me? Hm?” He vaguely raises a brow and tilts his head, punching me right in the heart with how warm his brown eyes are up close, how dark his moles are against the blood rushing beneath his cheeks.
“Is that a good idea?” I ask softly.
I don’t know when I closed my legs around him. It’s, like, my body wants him to stay for more. But my heart is reinforcing its gates to continue shutting him out.
He nods, running his fingers up my side.
The screen door in the living room screeches open, sending my heart up my throat, our eyes ensnaring to see who’s gonna make the first move.
Without saying a word, he quickly moves out from my legs, wafting a gust of his cologne and deodorant, and he leaves my bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind him.
I don’t have time to sit here with my throbbing pussy out. I leap off my nightstand and snatch my panties up from the carpet.
Straightening them out, about to step in, the red stain seeping through the layers of the gusset puts me on pause.
Deep down, I feel like he intentionally left an alternative reminder, knowing the bruise on my thigh would eventually fade.
Or I’m just an over-thinker with too soft of guts that make me fucking spiral.
Probably the latter.
Whining silently to myself, I hurry to put my underwear on and start digging through my messy dresser for shorts.
“Bun-Bun, you ready for some fun-fun?” Xene yells through the wall.
I already had some fun-fun, and I think I’m gonna faint.
My heart thumps a little harder, scrambling to yank up a pair of cutoff overalls all while swirling in circles to find my sneakers past the popsicle stick left to terrorize me.
“Bun? Hey! You in there?” Xene yells again, a solo knuckle knocking on my door.
“Coming!” Leaving one strap off, I shove my feet into my sneakers and spritz some perfume on.
But while shoving my big ole monster feet into my fucking shoes—I realize everyone can see. The giant. Burgundy. Hickey.
I’m sorry. I don’t know why coming on his tongue is flustering me to the point where I can’t just stop and take a breath.
No. Instead, I have a dicey choice of words and feel like I’m swelling to the size of the room.
Rushing to my door with a deep breath, the extra breeze on my midriff reminds me I never put a shirt on.
And I’m already opening the door.
One peek of Xene waiting on the other side with a smile is all I get before I’m slamming the wood in his face and barreling backward to the closet. “Sorry! Not ready! One sec!”
Yanking my one strap off, I rifle through the hangers, the plastic smacking loudly off one another, trying to find my white, ruched crop top that ties at the chest.
“You’ve been home for, like, ever.”
The door screeches open, whipping my big, giant, scared fucking eyes over to Xene leaning against the doorframe.
I have my lacey bra on. Truthfully, he’s probably seen a clearer view of my nipples through the shirts I wear without bras. But his eyes instantly falling to my chest is horrifying.
“Wow. They’re bigger than I thought they’d be.” He stretches a smile on for me, locking eyes like I’m not about to pass away.
Embarrassment chews through my throat, which, naturally, springs tears to my eyes and trembles my hands.
Dark circles come to my rescue, though. Razor’s appearing out of thin air behind Xene and exceeding his height.
He cracks a hand to Xene’s shoulder with a snarl and yanks him back, lowering his malicious eyes down to Xene’s juvenile laugh.
I don’t hear him say anything. I’m looking away and shakily tearing my top off the hanger, going as quickly as I can to get it on without being a huge baby and crying over this.
“I was complimenting her!” Xene yells from the living room.
“The fuck you opening her door for?!” Razor barks, his barbaric rage startling me into a jump.
“Hey, woah! Raze, cool it!” Cash intervenes.
Fumbling to finish tying the bow on my sternum, I blot my eyes to dry them before my makeup can smear, then tug my strap back up and head toward the loud yelling and garbled choking.
This is precisely what I meant when I said I’ve seen Razor become unpleasant with the other guys.
He has Xene down on his back and is straddling over him with his hands in a tight noose around his throat, his veins bulging from how much force he’s implementing to cut his oxygen.
Everyone knows to stay back.
As much as it churns my stomach to see, to witness everyone standing around in a circle, talking to him like a feral dog, it’s just—safer.
“Harder… Daddy,” Xene grunts, his red face turning purple.
His ignorance has me shaking my head, instinctively chewing on my nails with rampant breaths darting my eyes around to see if anyone’s going to step in before it’s too late.
Xene could probably buck him off. Maybe. He could at least try.
But I think he, uh… likes this.
Which doesn’t alleviate how staggering it is to be a bystander of.
Cash finally squats down near Xene’s head, giving Razor authoritative eyes and lacing his twitching fingers between his legs. “Take your medicine. Bunny’s watchin’ this mess.”
“Bunny,” Razor repeats, a deranged laugh huffing from his hoarse throat as he lowers a smile to Xene. “How’s her pussy smell on my breath?”
“Great,” Xene chokes out.
A whine thrums my hiving chest, chewing my nails harder, not knowing what to expect next.
With a rough shove, Razor’s slamming Xene’s head back to the floor and springing to his feet.
As if it’s just now clicking, Ora gasps, snapping her shocked jaw to me trying to inch away. “You guys…” Swatting a hand up, she oscillates a fast finger over Razor and me.
My eyes bulge in tandem with the air pocketing in my cheeks, sending a telepathic message that this is not the time.
“Oh, shit, yeah.” Her hair whips with her head, her brows crinkling down at Xene heaving for air. “You fucking perv!”
I don’t get to see past the flaccid kick she does to his side that prompts him to laugh and grab her ankle. Black fabric stretched over a firm chest is infiltrating my buzzing vision and two calloused hands are slipping around my waist.
He says nothing. He doesn’t have to for me to hear the ire stiffening each breath filling the hallway as he pulls me into his room.
I don’t think he’d hurt me. He never has. But I’m still scared to be alone with him so soon after… that.
Getting ushered to his bed, I nervously placate by taking the seat he’s coaxing me into, tying my fingers on top of my legs, and remaining stiff to track him.
He relaxes his tense face, falling to his knees around my feet. “I’m sorry, baby bunny.” Dropping his head to my lap, he brings his hands to the outer sides of my thighs, running his frustration up to the distressed hem of my overalls.
“Stop accepting less than worship.”
Is this worship?
Or is it him weaponizing how impressionable I am?