Page 3 of The Price Of Possession

“Mhmm,” I hum. The alcohol has commandeered my system, but I'm coherent enough to know what I want. I need to keep the depression at bay. I'll do anything to kill this pain that festers inside me like a sick wound. It never heals. Good things don't last so might as well drown in the pleasure of sexual desires like a bad habit.

Val lets out a playful symphonic chuckle. I meet Silas’s hazel eyes, they shine with veracity.

They lead me hand in hand out of Grey's living room through the mass of people. We pass the dimly lit slate fireplace toward the spiraling staircase of dark carved mahogany. As we ascend to the top, the vintage wallpaper along the walls house family photos of the Elites. Grey, Silas, Valerius and a few others. Oh, and of course, Kieran. I pause a moment to stare into the endless depths of his eyes.

My body sobers the minute I see his smug grin. In this picture, he's standing next to Mr. Grimshaw and Grey's father, Mr. Graves. His usual devil may care attitude is replaced by a look of pure repugnance. My body racks with withdrawal. Alcohol only masks the need for drugs. Like me, Val loves to dissolve into nothing with me.

He's been supplying me with downers all semester. It's getting increasingly difficult to hide behind the mask of indifference and plastered smiles. The boys continue to lead me upstairs. My stomach is nauseous and I shiver. Silas may be oblivious to how fucked up I am, but not Val, he’s the only one who understands my need to numb.

Moans and distant sounds of echoing gasps pulse through the walls. My heart thrums wildly in my chest and my mind wonders if Kieran is here. Is he fucking someone in these rooms? I don't know why the thought of him with another woman even swims through my mind. Especially after what he did. I have two drop dead gorgeous guys on either arm and all to myself, who gives a fuck about Kieran?

Apparently you do, idiot.

I shake off the thought of him. I thread my fingers through Silas's dark strands and force his lips to mine. I need to forget. I need to drown out the past. My insides churn with pent up desire. Val wastes no time dragging me away from Silas and through a set of large, dark French bedroom doors. Silas stalks in behind us. His eyes shine with reverence.

Val leads me to the edge of the large, rounded tufted bed. A sprawling, netted canopy surrounds the space looking inviting. The only light is dimly lit sconces in the corners. They both approach me with a predatory grin. Val wastes no time removing his shirt, he's always been impatient. This isn't our first rodeo. Silas cocks his head and waits, watching. The bulge in his jeans is prevalent. He licks his lips like a savage beast and I hate when he makes me wait. I've never been patient.

Val crawls over me, blocking my view. “Eyes on me, gorgeous,” he purrs, opening his mouth and slipping a xanny on my waiting tongue. It dissolves instantly. My chest rises and falls to the beat of the muted music thumping through the walls. My eyes connect with his. His hand roams up my skirt. His teeth bite along my stomach with fervor. I peek around Val's large, imposing wall of muscle to find Silas with his head thrown back, his cock in hand and he's slowly stroking himself. Val slithers up my body and pinches my chin, forcing my eyes back solely on him.

My lips part. I can't concentrate on anything other than the throb in my panties. Val grips my skirt and panties, ripping them down my legs roughly. Next, he turns his attention to my tank top clinging to my damp skin. He slides it off me with practiced precision. It lands somewhere on the floor. I gasp. His lips upturn into a smirk. Val gets to his knees and undoes his jeans. He kicks them off and settles between my legs with a look of pure savagery.

He never comments on the scars Kieran left on me. It's unsightly. Jagged strips, long healed, mar my inner thighs. My mind swims from the xanny. I feel lucid. His hands reach out and slam my wrist against the plush bed. He doesn't offer me any reprieve as he thrusts into me with a deep throaty growl. “I want you to feel it, baby,” he rasps. His blonde strands fall over his side fade. He blankets my body with his. My eyes turn to Silas. Each punishing thrust gets Silas that much closer. Val's sweat coats my stomach, chest and thighs. I let myself feel. Every deep resonating emotion. Silas's strokes turn slow and languid as he savors the sight before him. His eyes land on me and that's when he stalks forward. He comes around to the side of the bed where my head is resting against the pillows. He aims his cock at my face.

“Say ahh,” his low, husky voice commands. His eyes hold a visceral desire. I obey. My pink tongue darts out of my mouth, wetting my lips and welcoming his gift. He groans and his face twists before wave after wave of his warm, salty cum leaves his body, coating my tongue and lips. Instinctively I swallow, and he preens.

His show sends Val careening over the edge. He gives one final deep stroke before pulling out, grasping his cock in his palm and finishing on my stomach, tits and pussy. His body glistens with sweat. His chest rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Fuck yeah, Clara.”

I lay in an intoxicating euphoric haze.

“Wake the fuck up, you useless piece of trash!” A loud shrill echoes through my psyche, splintering my insides. My head pounds, and my mouth is dry as fuck. I blink a few times, taking in my surroundings. Dark leather couches. Snuffed out fireplace with ashy remnants. Trashed bar top with empty bottles littering the floor.

My vision focuses on my father’s imposing figure looming above me. His lip twists in disgust. My shirt is now missing and I fell asleep with my hands in my pants again. Yup.

Typical shit.

I groan and stretch before dislodging myself from the couch. I shoulder past Mortensen in search of some Goddamn water. His gaze tracks me. He takes in the trashed room, cursing under his breath.

“Christ,” he scoffs. “You’re a fucking disgrace to the Grimshaw name,” he hisses in disbelief.

I don't even flinch at his cruel words anymore. It's become second nature. I'll never live up to his expectations. Don't want to.

I pluck a used highball glass from the bar top and inspect it. “What

else is new?” I scoff. I rinse the glass out in the wet bar. I drain four

glasses of water in quick succession.

Chaos. A volatile grenade.

I threaten to deconstruct his empire. He has nobody to blame but himself. The guy has no clue how to be a damn father. If it wasn't for his image and desire to mold me into his perfect son, he would have kicked me out a long time ago. He still thinks he can control my future. I've lived with Zain since our freshman year. It was the best choice I ever made for myself, and that says a lot.

Now, with Vesper moving in, I'm back into this hellhole with my shitbag father. Zain doesn't care one way or another if I stay with him, but this situation feels like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode with Mortensen. Not ideal. It might be a better option to go back. Although, I doubt sweet little Vesper could handle the endless stream of bitches I bring back. That shit is like a revolving door. His beady eyes bore into me. “You are weeks from graduation. You will get it together or so help me—”

I cut him off. “—or you'll lash me again? Chain me up? Lock me in the basement at Void?” I shout, slamming my glass onto the bartop, shattering it. His face reddens and I know I fucked up. He stalks forward and slams me into the wall. I grunt from the force. I’m a big fucker and could easily overpower him, but I don’t. Instead, I offer him a smug grin that I know will piss him off. Nothing makes him angrier than knowing he's powerless. The guy craves dominance and authority the way I crave pussy.

“Yes,” he hisses. His eyes hold a murderous rage mixed with disdain. “You're nothing but a stain on my name. A pebble in my shoe. I will get through to you. Continue to fight me, Kieran and see what happens,” he threatens.