I’m in it.
And everything’s fucking fantastic.
“Kai?” Haven whispers. “Are you okay?”
“He’s just fine, sweetheart,” Rooke mutters as he drops his head and snorts up the other line. He picks up the baggie I left beside Haven’s hip and taps out the last of it, two more lines, one on each cheek. “Stop moving, girl.”
His voice twangs, and the bed bobs like we’ve just gone over a huge swell of water.
Oh, fuck.
The molly’s back.
Lucifer, buddy, you’d better take the fucking wheel, ‘cos I’m rolling again.
“Another, boy.” Rooke grabs my hair, forces my head down.
I snort up a second line like a dog learning tricks, and fuck I hate how good it feels to make him proud when he murmurs, “There’s my good boy.”
Rooke follows suit, and then I hear the safety click off, the thump-clatter as he tosses his revolver back into his nightstand and slams the drawer shut.
Haven jerks at the sound, starts crying softly.
I fall onto my side, drag myself closer to her. “Shh, shh,” I whisper, smoothing hair away from her face. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
A fucking lie, of course. Nothing will ever be okay after tonight.
She whimpers when I push the blindfold up, blinking at me with big, beautiful blue eyes as she searches my face. “What’s wrong with you?” she murmurs.
“Nothing,” I whisper, darting forward to kiss her. “Absolutely fucking nothing. I’m good. You’re good. Everything’s okay.” I plant tiny kisses over her lips, and soon she’s kissing me back.
Then she moans.
Then she lets out a sob that could have been either pleasure or pain. And when I look back, Rooke’s got his dick in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other. His attention solely focused on Haven.
“Kai!” Tears trickle out of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I stroke her face, the small of her back, her ass. Rooke grabs my wrist and forces me lower, until I’m stroking her lubed uppussy. He manipulates my fingers, forcing them inside her, and Haven’s eyelashes flutter as she fights to stay lucid, as she fights for the control she lost a long, long time ago.
“Sorry about what?” I whisper, kissing her again before she can answer. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.” I finger her, deep but slow, drawing back to see her face, to see if she likes it.
She frowns at me, mouth opening, groaning. “Sorry about—” she winces “—the maple tree.” The last is barely a whisper. “Sorry I made you do that. Should have never?—”
I kiss her again. Draw back. “I’m glad you did, Heavenly. It’s the only real thing that’s ever fucking happened between us.”
Her brow furrows, tears gleaming in her eyes. “What?”
I roll my head side to side, grinning. “What you should be sorry about is the gang bang.”
Her confused eyes flicker over my face, like the perfect little actress. “What are you talking about?”
I laugh, and I swear to hell, I soundjustlike Rooke’s crazy ass.
“Oh, fuck, Miss H. I keep forgetting what a fucking whore you are. Probably forgot about it already.” I drag my fingers out of her and slap her ass so hard she yelps in pain. “I’m betting your slutty, stretched out pussy can take both of us.”
I push up, ignoring the way her horrified face tugs at my heartstrings. I’m done letting her play with my heart like a fucking marionette doll.
Now’s the time for some fucking.
