Nikki St. Crowe

“Before you ask,” the new one says, “yes, you are hallucinating.”

Look, but don’t touch.

I find her sitting up in bed crying.

Immediately I want to make her feel better.

Pan always says I am the bleeding heart out of the four of us.

“What is it?” I sit on the edge of the bed beside her.

“I’m scared,” she says and collapses against me, her hand curled in my shirt. She sobs and I give in.

How can I not?

I pull her closer. Her body shakes

I’m still ignited after watching his brother fuck some girl’s mouth.

My heart is racing in my chest.

Bash meets my eyes and he narrows his.

His breathing quickens and I realize I made a mistake trying to get to Kas first. I thought he would be the one because he was the nicest. But that’s exactly the reason he wouldn’t touch me. Not first, anyway.

Starla, I think, I’ll make you proud.

You fuck the one that’s good and ready, she’d say.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used my body to get what I want.

I let out a breathy little moan and Bash clenches his teeth together, presses closer. I can feel his cock hard against my thigh.

I push my hips forward, rock against him.

He growls.

Bash will fuck me.

I’m sure of it now.

And when he does, Kas will be pissed and Pan will be pissed and I’m not sure what Vane will do.

But I will have set something in motion.

When he exhales smoke, he says, “Don’t stop on my account.”

He comes into the room, sitting in the wingback chair behind me.

Bash exhales, almost a sigh. He’s still hard, still buried in me, but he doesn’t move.

“Go on,” Pan says. “Fuck her.”

“Pan…I didn’t—”

“Fuck her, Bash. Do it now.”

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.

To all the girls who had to grow up hard and fast.

Maybe we’re all mad, in our own way.

“Fuck, Darling,” he whispers. “You’re going to get me killed.”

Vane is all deep, shadowed lines, wiry like a brutal fighter.

her gaze searching for things that I don’t think I possess but desperately want to give her.

Fuck her and make her quiver, make her beg for Lost Boy cum.