“Wow. You’ve come a long way from when you refused to let me touch you.”
“I don’t like giving up control,” he admits in a low voice that gets carried by the wind.
“It’s in good hands with me.”
“Doubt it.”
“Why?”
“You’re a brat.”
“I can be good, too.” An idea springs to mind and I perk up. “What if I prove it?”
“Prove what?”
“That you can give up control for me and I’ll treat it well.”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“Trust me.” I drop to my knees between his legs.
The harsh surface of the rock hurts my skin, but I don’t pay attention to that and, instead, focus on my mission.
In the semi-darkness, Creighton shares the aura of a warlord, half naked, bloody, and fresh out of a battle.
Not to mention that we’re in a public place where anyone can walk by. Yes, we’re hidden from the main street, but someone could wander back here.
The old Annika would be freaked out, but I couldn’t care less.
Not when Creighton is here.
My fingers latch onto the elastic of his shorts, a bit shaky, but not to the point of being a fumbling mess.
At first, he lets me pull at the material, but then his hard voice vibrates in the air. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Bringing you pleasure.” It takes me a few moments to free his cock.
I pause as my small hand barely contains his girth.
What the…
I’ve never seen a cock in real life, aside from some unsolicited dick pics. Or some porn—don’t judge, I was curious.
But I knew those porn stars’ dicks didn’t reflect reality.
However, Creighton is totally porn-star level. Both in girth and length. Now, I’m having second thoughts about my earlier plans.
His index and middle finger slip beneath my jaw, lifting it, trapping me in the darkness of his eyes. “You going to wrap these lips around my cock and let me choke your pretty throat with my cum, little purple?”
Holy shit.
My heart jacks up in speed. He’s supposed to be silent, so how come he has the best dirty talk?
“Have you deep-throated another cock before, Annika? Have you let another prick fuck your mouth and turn your lips all swollen?”
My thighs clench together.
Seriously, he needs to stop talking like this. My actions are supposed to be about him, but I’m the one who’s getting shamelessly wet.
“Answer the question.”
“No, it’s…my first.” Like it’s his first.
I know because once, we played ‘never have I ever’ with everyone else, and he admitted to never having his dick sucked. A fact that made Remi throw a dramatic fit.
Ever since then, I think I’ve secretly fantasized about being the first girl to give him a blowjob.
Especially now that I realize he’s probably never allowed himself to receive oral because it takes away his control.
But he’s not stopping me now.
If anything, he’s watching me with fiery eyes and a lust-filled expression.
The fingers that were beneath my jaw push against my lips. “Open.”
I do, and he glides his middle and ring fingers all the way inside. He pushes them against my tongue, smears them with my saliva over and over.
I start to gag, spluttering around them.
“Breathe. If you can’t handle my fingers, how will you take my cock?”
I use his eyes as an anchor as I inhale through my nose. Slowly, the pressure eases and I lick his fingers. A low humming sound falls from his lips as he wraps his other hand around mine that’s on his cock.
Then he uses my grip to slide it up and down his length in a twisting motion, making me jerk him off. “Don’t just lick. Be a good girl, and use your tongue between my fingers.”
I do tentative thrusts between his fingers and quicken my rhythm. The more he releases pleasure sounds, the harder I go. My head turns dizzy from the overstimulation, and my thighs become so wet that I wish I could reach a hand down to touch myself.
Creighton pulls his fingers from between my lips and from around my hand. “Put my cock in your mouth.”
My lips wrap around his length, his authoritativeness adding heat and tension to the act. But my mouth is so small that I struggle. And he enjoys that, judging by the light sparkling in his ocean blue eyes.
I do as he taught me with his fingers, though they don’t compare to his monster cock. I breathe deeply, trying not to gag, and I lick the sides over and over.
He groans and my pulse picks up. Is it normal that I’m soaking my panties at the thought of his arousal?
That I want to deepen that look in his eyes, to trap it, and make sure I’m the only one he gives it to?
Creighton slides his fingers in my hair, fists it and wraps it around his hand, then stands.
I stare up at him as his other hand strokes my face with a sinister edge. “So beautiful and innocent, my little purple. So…breakable.”
My body goes rigid, but I still try to lick, to prove that I can give him pleasure the same as he can give me.
“I’m going to fuck your face until you choke on my cock. This might hurt.”
He thrusts his length all the way in and I gag, for real this time. I’m not ready for the onslaught of his power, for the way he’s using me like I’m a fuckable hole.
Tears sting my eyes and I’m not sure if it’s because of that realization, the suffocation, or the wetness smearing my thighs.
He uses his merciless hold on my hair as he thrusts in and out of my mouth. I choke and splutter, tears, drool, and precum trickling down my chin.
The erotic sound of his in-and-out mixes with the violent waves and crashes against my rib cage.
Creighton can’t feel pleasure without inflicting pain, so the more I gag and cry, the deeper he groans.
The harder he goes.
The more twisted he becomes.
This is so screwed up, but I must be as deviant as he is, because the further he takes it, the more brutal he gets, and the wetter I become.
He goes on and on, each of his thrusts like a direct stimulation to my starved core. Then when I think I’ll come from being deep-throated, a salty taste explodes all over my tongue.
Creighton pulls out and stuffs his fingers into my mouth, authority dripping from his every move. “Swallow.”
I have no choice but to do so. He gathers the cum that streams down my chin and thrusts it between my lips, forcing me to lick every drop.
When he finishes, he lifts me up by the hair and slams my body against his as he kisses me.
No, he devours me.
He licks every last bit of cum off my lips, my tongue, and then some. He ravages me, eats me, detonates me from the inside out.
I try to kiss him back, but he’s like a beast. There’s no way I could match his intensity. So I let him feast on me, and I sink into the perverse, erotic way he drinks his taste off my lips.
When we finally break apart, I sway back and his hand wraps around my waist, keeping me standing.
His nose rubs over my hair and an appreciative groan spills from his lips. “Good girl.”
The hairs on my body stand on end and I’m surprised I don’t melt in his embrace.
Damn it. Are those two words supposed to be such a turn-on?
“You owe me at least three dates for that,” I grumble.
My body goes still when something I’ve never witnessed before happens.
Creighton throws his head back and laughs.
It’s heartfelt and happy and causes my toes to curl.
And I think maybe, just maybe, I’m in too deep with this beast.
I’m in so deep that I will try everything in my power to understand him.
Even if he doesn’t like it.
CREIGHTON
“Are you ghosting me?”
The question is accompanied by a kick to my side, a poke, and a subtle shove, tumbling me out of bed.
I fall to the ground with a thud and I groan as I sit up, then glare at my deranged cousin.
Landon grins and makes a rectangle with his thumbs and forefingers. “Perfect expression. You’re art material, Cray Cray. How about you model for me?”
“How about you give up asking me that?”
“Not when you could change your mind.” He sits on my bed—the one he kicked me out of—and stares down his nose at me. “You didn’t answer my question. I sense ghosting vibes.”
“Shouldn’t it be me who senses those?” I stand, punch him out of my bed, watch as he falls down, then sit so that I’m the one staring down at him. “You’ve been stalling for the information we agreed on.”
“Not the face, you bloody sod,” he curses while smiling. “And I wasn’t stalling, I was just piecing the puzzle together to form the bigger picture. I can’t reveal anything until all the pieces are where they’re supposed to be.”
Ever since we were kids, Landon and Eli have been obsessed with chess and have done everything under the sun to win. They’ve gone as far as challenging Dad, Uncle, and Grandpa Jonathan. As in, the strongest chess players we know.
They each managed to win against both Uncle and Grandpa—the latter, I think, because he let them.
Dad remains the reigning champion, though.
They also never win against each other. In fact, Eli and Lan are still playing a game they started years ago.
Landon, in particular, has always viewed the world as his chessboard and the people in it as his pawns.
Me included.
And while I don’t give a fuck about that as long as I get what I want, something’s been bugging me since the fire.
Lan watches me carefully before he throws his weight on the bed across from me. Once he’s sure I won’t kick him, he smiles like a creep.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say.
“Oh? How did you find time for that between the excessive sleeping and eating enough for an army?”
“Were you behind the fire that burned the Heathens’ compound?”
“Haven’t you heard? They’re blaming it on the Serpents. Nasty bunch, those ones. Venomous, too, last I checked.”
“Did you set them up?”
“Do I look capable of such satanic acts?” When I remain silent, he grins. “Fine, I am capable of that and more, so who knows? If events can be falsified, why can’t the truth?”
I spring to a standing position and haul him with me, nearly choking him with my grip on his collar. “I don’t give a fuck about your plans, or lack thereof, but you will not, under any circumstances, put Annika in danger again.”
His face turns blue from the lack of oxygen, but instead of fighting, his grin widens, turning proper monstrous.
I release him when I’m on the verge of strangling him to death. This fucker is abnormal, and if I hadn’t let him go, I would’ve probably killed him and he wouldn’t have moved a muscle.
It’s not that Landon isn’t violent, he is, but that happens on his terms, not anyone else’s.
I honest to fuck have no clue what Dad sees in him and why he chose to personally nurture him. He’s deranged.
And that’s saying something, considering my and Eli’s character.
Landon falls on the bed, that creepy permanent grin still plastered on his face. “How would you have had the chance to be a Prince Charming if she hadn’t been in danger?”
“So you were behind it?” I reach out to him again and he ducks and rolls out of bed.
“Once was me being courteous, twice and I’ll fucking kill you, Cray Cray. We don’t want Uncle Aiden sad, now do we?”
“I mean it. Play your games far away from what’s fucking mine.”
My lungs burn with the words and how true they are. Annika is mine. She was mine long before I even considered it, and I’ll fuck up anyone who attempts to hurt her.
No, I’ll destroy anyone who causes her discomfort. That’s enough to land anyone on my shit list.
I’m not sure where this obsession with her will lead, but I’m committed to seeing it through until the very end.
Especially after the semifinals fight last night.
I was thinking of ways to chain her to me, but she went ahead and got on her knees for me. To Remi’s horror, I’ve never been interested in getting head before, but the moment Annika put my cock in her mouth, I turned into an animal who’s solely driven by primal instinct. And when she let me face-fuck her and swallowed my cum, my beast soared to the surface.
Landon circles me slowly, taking his time with the act. “I thought you were no longer interested in pain, but it seems you’ve found a permanent purging outlet. As I thought, Annika Volkov is the reason you’ve been absent from our bonding time. Is that interesting or what?”
“Erase whatever you’re thinking.”
“Oh? This is way worse than I could’ve anticipated.” He taps his lips with a forefinger. “Take my advice. Stay away from her and her brother and her whole fucked-up entourage. It’ll only screw you up.”
If he thinks that whatever the Heathens do would scare me away, he has no clue what lengths I would go to keep what’s mine.
“Want to go to the club? Vary your tastes?”