Lords of Pain (The Royals of Forsyth University #1)(5)
“Dude,” Killian says, “I know you’re having a bad week and working some shit out here, but my dad will be home soon. Whatever you’re going to do, just get on with it.”
Tristian runs his thumb over my mouth, eyes fixed to the movement. “Get on your knees.”
There’s no mistaking what he wants me to do, and after Killian told him to hurry, he picks up his pace. There’s no time to process as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans. He’s not wearing underwear and his penis is just as hard as it’d felt under my palm before. It’s big, straining at the skin and pointing right at me. I stare down at it, frozen in shock until Rath’s hands bear down on my shoulders, forcing me to my knees.
To my horror, Rath comes down with me, still aligned with my back. I hear his zipper lower while one hand snakes around to grope my breast.
“What are you doing?” I ask, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice.
“Watching,” he says, nipping at my earlobe. “Feeling. Getting off. There’s more than one way to enjoy a girl.”
I take one last look at my stepbrother, one last chance to hope he’s come to his senses. There has to be something human inside of him. I refuse to believe otherwise. But I don’t find any sympathy there. God, no. I find him in the process of shoving his hand down his shorts and pulling his own cock out. He leans back against the door jamb and takes two long strokes as he watches. The movement is obscene and strangely hostile. It looks like a warning.
Tristian’s fingers touch me under the chin, and he redirects my gaze upward, toward his icy eyes. “Open up, Sweet Cherry. I want your eyes on me the whole time. I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I want to see it when I come and you swallow it down. I want you to watch me while it happens.” He licks his lips, thumbing my mouth open. “Understood?”
I nod, understanding everything. Understanding that no one, not even family, is going to save me. Understanding that this is all life is for me now, one sicko after another, lining up to take something from me. Someone a little more na?ve might think it was bad luck.
I know better.
I open my mouth and take him in.
I close my eyes and try to shut everything out, to curl into the back of my brain the way I’ve learned. It isn’t me doing this. This is just automatic. Something else has taken over my body and I’m watching it, locked away somewhere safe.
I can’t quite get to that place this time, though.
Tristian makes a low sound, hand fisting in my hair as my lips slide up his shaft. Rath’s breaths are loud against my ear and his touch is inescapable, hand cupping my breast, rolling my nipple between forefinger and thumb.
“Never sucked a dick before, have you Cherry?” Tristian’s thumb prods at my cheek, and despite his disapproving words, his voice emerges in a pained rasp. “You realize that’s where the real money is, don’t you? Daddies would pay a sweet penny for some head if you can do it right.” He tightens his grip on my hair and thrusts into my mouth.
I sputter angrily around his cock, jerking back.
He holds me still. “I thought I told you to look at me. Not very good at following instructions, are you?”
My hands curl into tight fists against my side, but I do it. I pry my eyes open and wrench them up, meeting Tristian’s glazed eyes.
“That’s a girl,” he says, patting my head like I’m a dog. “I’ll make this easy on you.”
It’s laughable. Easy. Nothing about this is easy. I’m trying so hard to ignore the sight of Killian in my periphery, of Rath’s hand skating down my ribs, that I’m taken by surprise when Tristian starts thrusting in and out of my mouth. My hands shoot up to his hips, holding him back, but his eyes narrow, grip tightening in my hair.
“Either I fuck your mouth or you get better at this. Your choice, Story.”
I hold his hips, glaring up at him even though my eyes are welling with tears. And then I start bobbing my head. I’m pretty sure blow jobs aren’t supposed to be like this—bitter and angry in the way I work my tongue against him. I look into his eyes as I do it, watch them dilate, jaw slackening. Now, it’s more of a promise than a blow job.
A promise that these boys aren’t going to break me.
“Fuck,” Tristian breathes, feet shifting. “Yeah, that’s it. Shit, she’s really doing it.”
I can feel Rath behind me, the bounce of his arm as he jerks himself. His hand snakes down my stomach, shoving into the waistband of my shorts, and I know better now than to fight.
Doesn’t mean I don’t try.
“Shh,” he says into my ear. “Relax.” Despite what’s happening here, his fingers are slow and teasing when they push into my panties, shoulders curling around me. I already know what he’s going to find down there, but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating when he pauses. He whispers low into my ear, “Should I tell them how wet you are for this?”
My fingers are digging bruises into Tristian’s hips, but he doesn’t even seem fazed.
“I don’t think I will,” Rath decides, fingers rubbing tight circles around my clit. “Now we can both have a secret. Keep your mouth shut about mine and maybe I won’t tell everyone how much of a slut you are for all three of us. You are, aren’t you?” His chuckle is warm and damp against my ear. Loud enough for the others to hear, he adds, “You could be ours, you know. We could take turns. We don’t mind sharing if it’s with each other.”