Page 46 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grinds out, a bit of that easy control slipping. I seem to have that effect on him. “I give you a simple goddamn order and you try to get yourself killed.”
“Must be in my blood,” I purr, glancing back at him. “Or maybe that’s why I hired you? To save me from myself?”
“Must be,” Vic bites, and then he starts to move, pulling on my hair and causing my back to arch. I put one hand up against the headboard as he rides me, the bed creaking ever so slightly with our movements. He’s brutal about it, too, filling me up completely before drawing back. When he pushes forward, I can feel him hit the end of me, and I bite my lip.
My body is practically liquid now, heated and desperate, wanting.
Vic fucks me as hard and fast as he damn well pleases, knowing that an orgasm is practically inevitable with four more Havoc Boys waiting at the end of the bed. Either that, or he just doesn’t care because he’s mad at me and wants me to suffer.
I notice that he’s careful to keep his hand away from my bandage though, and that he doesn’t put any weight on my body. He’s as aware of that wound in my side as he is of my body wrapped around his.
Fucked by my dark gods, claimed by their inked hands, my soul destroyed.
Even in the throes of ecstasy, I start making up poems in my head. That’s how much a part of me writing is, and I didn’t even know it. I didn’t fucking know it until now. With a groan, I squeeze my hands into fists, pushing my hips back into Victor.
He comes with a few violent thrusts, spilling himself into me and then pulling away abruptly. I’m left panting on my hands and knees as he drapes his body into the stupid pillow mountain, eyes like black coals in the dark. He doesn’t even bother taking off his mask.
“Hael,” Victor says with a snap of his fingers. The look Vic gives me, barely visible in what little light the TV gives off, is still harsh, as if he didn’t just have an orgasm inside of me.
“You really pissed me off, Blackbird,” Hael says, the warmth of his hands making me shiver as he slides them from my hips to the curve of my waist. “Running off into the woods like that.”
“You should apologize to Hael,” Victor agrees, surprising me. But in a good way. Like, it’s nice to know that I haven’t fractured the beautiful brotherhood that makes Havoc so special. Not yet anyway. At least right now, Vic can still be on Hael’s side when he needs to. “You could’ve gotten him killed, too.”
And he’s right. They’re both right.
“I’m sorry, Hael,” I whisper, moaning as Hael’s hands sweep my body with ravenous intent. He rests one palm on the bed, using the other to massage my right breast. When his fingers pinch my nipple, I lift my ass up toward him. Last time, I ran away before the boys’ hungry gazes could sweep over and consume me. Tonight, I’m not going anywhere.
“And then one more, just for me. How about: I’m sorry, sir,” Victor says as Hael presses his hot mouth against the side of my neck. He moves his hand from my breast to his pants, shoving them down so that the tip of his cock brushes against that aching storm between my thighs.
Normally, I wouldn’t even think about saying something so goddamn stupid. But … I did fuck up. Badly. That, and I like how dominant Vic is, even if I don’t always want to be dominated.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I whisper huskily, and then Hael is driving his hips forward, his cock filling me so completely that I can feel the piercing at the tip. He isn’t all that nice about it, using my body for his own pleasure. He really is pissed at me, isn’t he? Or scared, maybe. That could be it, too.
Either way, he fucks my pussy with reckless abandon, taking what he wants while Vic watches, lounging lazily in the pillows and lighting up a joint. The cherry crackles in the dark, smoke wafting lazily through the room and enveloping us all in its strange spell.
“Holy shit, Blackbird,” Hael murmurs appreciatively, hips still rocking rhythmically against my ass. I wonder if he isn’t remembering what we did in the Camaro that day behind the school. I know that I am, pushing my body back to meet his thrusts, so that our bodies come together with a wet slap.
Hael yanks me back against him, finishing himself with a ragged groan and then stroking his fingers up my back like he’s petting me. He doesn’t say anything as I glance back at him; he’s nothing but a shadowy figure in a mask right now, at least to my eyes. The rest of me knows exactly who he is, with that sweet coconut oil smell and those soft, soft hands.
