The Never King (Vicious Lost Boys #1)(17)

Bash looks up at me. I can’t tell if there’s regret or relief on his face.

He thrusts up, guides my hips down the length of him.

I can’t see Pan, but I can feel his heavy gaze on my backside and somehow that is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.

I like it more than I should. I might have fucked half the basketball team, but never at once.

Bash picks up the tempo and I help him along, bouncing on him as we get closer and closer and the room fills with curling smoke and the smell of burning tobacco.

My clit throbs, desperate for friction and I rock forward, grinding against Bash, sliding down the length of him.

“Fuck, Darling. Just like that.”

He grows harder inside of me.

“Fuck. Fuck, yes.”

His chest rises and falls and then all of the muscle in his body tenses up as he growls and slams into me, spilling cum inside of me.

I’m so close.

I just need a few more thrusts.

I pant into Bash’s neck and hold on tight, coated in sweat now and warm summer air.

So close.

So close.

A strong arm wraps around my waist and yanks me off of Bash, stealing the pleasure and the heat.

I’m throbbing and wet and leaking cum.

“Get out,” he tells Bash.

“For fuck’s sake, Pan,” Bash says as he yanks his pants up. “If you’re trying to teach me a lesson, you missed the mark.”

“Go on,” Pan says with me still pressed against his chest.

When Bash is gone, Pan whirls me around and tosses me into the wingback. The chain rattles and grows taut.

He points a finger at me, silver ring flaring in the moonlight. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re getting yourself into.”

“I was kidnapped. I think I know well enough.”

He bristles.

Good. This is what I wanted. Get beneath their skin. Look for weaknesses.

This is my talent. I can do this.

I pull up the hem of my skirt. There’s a dark, wet mark on my panties, both from my pussy and Bash’s cum.

Pan can’t help but look down between my legs. His jaw flexes as he hunches closer.

I pull my panties aside and slide my fingers down my wet slit, dip a fingertip inside of me.

I am enjoying this. Maybe more than I should.

I’m like a kid let loose at a county fair and I want to ride all the rides and play all the games.

What do I really have to lose?

Yesterday I didn’t think any of this was real.

Maybe it’s not.

Maybe this is all a dream and if it is, then I can do whatever the hell I want.

I moan as I rub at my clit.

Pan glares at me, his nearly-white eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

I don’t know what he is and I don’t think I care.

All I know is that he’s my captor and I’m not going to let him keep the upper hand.

I sink in the chair, spread my legs further and pick up the pace.

I was already primed to come before Pan yanked me away. I’m already this close.

I fight the urge to close my eyes and sink into the searing heat.

I want to see him when I come.

I want to know how he feels about it because regardless of what these boys are, I think I can still read them like an open book. And whatever words I read I will use against them later.

The anticipation of the orgasm sends a shiver down my spine and I arch in the chair, baring more of myself to him.

His gaze dips to my pussy as I work at my clit.

He’s so hungry.

The searing heat between my legs nearly consumes me as his nostrils flare.

Peter Pan was a myth and now he’s real and he’s drinking in the sight of me like I’m a mirage.

As I descend into the pleasure, Pan’s hand slides up my thigh and gooseflesh erupts on my skin.

Touch me, I think.

Touch me.

I slow my pace, hold my fingers over my clit trying to keep the orgasm at bay just to see what Pan will do.

He sinks two fingers inside of me all the way up to his first knuckle.

My breath gets stuck in my throat.

He slides his fingers back out slowly, then shoves in hard again, rocking me back against the chair.

I’m being finger fucked by a myth.

Oh my god.

“Don’t stop, Darling,” he orders.

I swirl my fingers around my clit, nerves blinking alive.

Pan pulls his fingers out of me and then shoves them into my mouth.

My eyes pop open. I can taste the sweetness of my juices and the tang of cum.

“Clean them off.”

I run my tongue down the length of his fingers as he commands. His eyes narrow.

“What’s that taste like?” he asks, then sets his jaw hard as he waits for me to answer.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Trouble,” he tells me. “Filthy little Darling whore.”

His words ignite something in me.

“Oh fuck,” I say around a moan. “Yes.”

I’m so hot, so wound up tight, descended so far into oblivion, that the wave crashes through me in an instant and my inner walls clench up and I hold my breath, my entire body tensing up.

I don’t want it to end.

Heat floods through me and I pull into myself, toes curling. My knees draw up, but Pan knocks them back, keeps me spread open.