And judging from the way he’s kissing her back, saying he’s going to fuck her in the ass wasn’t an idle threat. This guy’s pain threshold must be god tier, because he doesn’t seem to care about his split lip as their mouths clash.
I can’t stand watching this.
I don’t dare leave her with him.
Change of plans.
I lunge forward, aiming for Haven’s wrist so I can wrench the gun free and get the upper hand.
But I swear they’re communicating on a psychic level or something, because the instant I’m in reach, Rooke’s hand claps over my throat. And then the gun is at my temple, muzzle digging into that divot of soft flesh.
Rooke’s fingers dig into my neck as hetsksme. “Should have made a run for it, boy.” He slides a hand behind his sweatpants and pulls out his cock.
She slides the gun along my skull until the muzzle is right at my hairline, then pushes hard, forcing me down. I glare at her, but she just nods encouragingly the lower my head moves.
“That’s it, Kai,” she whispers. “Now open your mouth and swallow him down.”
Rage and shame seethes under my skin, making my face glow. But her finger is still on that fucking trigger.
Rooke’s hand moves to the back of my neck. He grips me tight enough to make me wince in pain.
“You’ll have to get it hard first,” he murmurs.
There’s a sadistic gleam in his eyes, satisfaction flooding his face a moment later when the fight leaves my body.
Should have fucking left.
Why the hell did I keep hesitating?
When I don’t move, Rooke keeps me in place with one hand, the other grabbing my arm, sliding down to my wrist, manipulating my fingers around his already-stiffening cock.
I squeeze my eyes closed, because I can’t stand looking at him.
Or her.
She’s enjoying this just as much as he is, the fucking psycho.
“Don’t make that face,” she taunts. “You love this, you fucking slut.”
Jesus, I wish she’d stop throwing my words back at me. But I guess I know where this is coming from now. Shouldn’t be surprised she’s holding a grudge. Haven always got pissy when things didn’t go her way.
My eyes flick to the gun in her hand. The barrel looks like a fucking tunnel leading straight to hell.
“No.” The word escapes before I can stop it. I press my lips together, tasting blood where I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek. “I won’t—I can’t?—“
The cold circle of the muzzle presses against my temple, making my stomach drop through the floor.
“Try harder, Kai.” Haven’s voice is pure venom.
Rebellion and survival instinct war inside me. For a split second, I consider knocking away the gun. Consider if dying would be better than this.
But then I catch the look in Rooke’s eyes—that clinical curiosity, like he’s taking notes on exactly how far Haven has to push until I break.
I refuse to give either of them the satisfaction.
But then Rooke licks the cut on his lip, and a flash of last night hits me?—
Me, kissing Rooke as he jerked me off like he knew my dick better than I did. The way I panted against his mouth, desperate and needy. The way Haven moaned as she watched, the touch of her foot against my back when she’d pushed the two of us together, begging for more.
