Please don’t be cum. Please don’t be cum. Please don’t be cum.
“My mucus, beautiful.”
My throat constricts with a heaving I can’t repress. It shoves against my chest with every gag I cough out.
“Oh. My. Fucking. Goddess.” My stomach lurches once more, but even in my sickness, I still can’t help the anger that rises above it all.
My nails dig into hard shoulders, and I bring him down in one swift turn kick. But I don’t let him go that easily. I’m on top of him in a flash of speed. My knuckles are so covered in his fucking bodily fluid that the punches slap right off the hard edges of his face.
I can’t see him.
But I hear his discomfort. And that’s all that motivates me to keep going. With every grunting groan, I slam my fist down all over again.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until several hands grab my hips.
I’m hauled off of him. My back collides with smooth skin, and those strong hands continue to hold me in place against his chest. Even if I’m not struggling to fuck up that pretty face any longer.
I feel good. It feels good to finally release all the rage I’ve been pushing down within myself for so damn long.
It’s freeing.
It’s ecstasy.
Until Rome laughs. An amusement tinged with breathless pain kisses the darkness, and he just—why does he piss me off without saying a Goddessdamn word?!
“You’re cute when you’re murderous, beautiful,” the Hell Cunt grunts as he stands, his warmth coming close enough to infuriate me all over again.
Only when I stop trembling with fury do the arms around me slowly slide down my arms, my wrists, ever so gently over my tightly held fists. It’s like he steals away my anger with that hypnotic touch that shivers down deep into my core.
I just know it’s Avian. It’s his calming caress.
It’s distracting.
For a moment.
My fist is balled up once more and flung forward immediately the moment I’m free from Avian’s calming hold. My punch is straightforward and cracking against the smooth line of Roman’s nose.
A growl is followed closely by excessive curses that bring a pleased smile to my lips.
“Fuck! Are you just irrationally violent all of the time?” Hell Cunt asks on a muffled grunt.
“That’s enough. Stop antagonizing her,” a deep voice commands.
“Me? What about her?” Romey’s all but pouting while I’m all but sticking my tongue out at the fucker in victory.
Mom likes me best. Get over it, Bro.
“Avian, come with me to check in with the Prince. Someone will be suspicious if the High Hell don’t report tonight.” Zilo’s orders seem endless and articulate. Even I’m nodding along like I have a clue what’s happening at the moment. “Rome, take the girl to our bedroom. Don’t let her out, and don’t let her be seen. And for hell’s sake, fix your fucking nose. It’s disgusting.” Strong and direct footfalls stride away from me, and I’m left stunned in the dark.
With Roman.
His hand wraps around my upper arm with just enough tightness to tell me he’s still pissed about the bloody nose thing.
