Sick Boys: Chapter 9
There they are.
The three perfectly fucked-up boys of the Serpent & Skull Society.
The boys who run this place.
And they’re sitting on their luxurious, red velvet seats, staring at me with disdain like they’re the fucking gods of this earth.
Felix lights a cigarette and blows out the smoke in my direction, then hands his cigarette to Dylan, who also takes a long drag.
“So … Penelope … you think we’re waiting for you?” Felix asks, spreading his muscular legs because they barely fit in the seat.
The door behind me closes, and I’m eerily aware of the sound it makes.
Especially when it’s locked.
Fuck.
I knew it would be dangerous to come here, but I didn’t expect that fucker Jason to actually lock the door on me.
No turning back now.
“I know you broke into my room,” I say.
Better throw it all out on the table right away.
“Do you now?” With a devious grin, Dylan leans back, looking me up and down. “Where’s your proof?”
“Give me the fucking diary,” I say through gritted teeth.
“What diary?” Alistair mutters, sitting awkwardly in his seat like he’s hiding something.
I know they have it. I know it was them. They know it. But the fact that they deny it to my face pisses me off.
“I’m not here to play games,” I say.
“I am,” Felix says, and he takes the cigarette back from Dylan and takes another deep drag, blowing it all out in one go until the room practically fills with smoke.
I push away the need to cough.
“I know you fucking stole it,” I say, stepping closer to show them I’m not afraid.
Felix looks up at me from his seat, his eyes still at half mast, still as cold as ice. “What if we did? What will you do?”
His gaze darkens, and so does mine, while my hand tightens around the knife in my pocket.
I didn’t come here without something to ensure my safety.
Especially after our last encounter.
“Why did you take it?” I ask as I come closer and closer.
But there’s no answer. All they do is smirk and glare at me.
This book … means everything to me. I need it back. And I am done fucking waiting until one of them admits the truth.
I pull my knife from my pocket and point it at Felix. “Give it to me. Now.”
For the first time since I’ve seen him, an actual smile forms on his lips before it fades into oblivion as though it never even existed. Brief, but a smile nonetheless.
“What are you going to do? Slice me? Stab me like you did in that hallway?” He leans in, closer and closer, until his face is mere inches away from the point of my blade. “Do it then. I dare you.”
Is this fucker insane?
The knife is lodged firmly in the palm of my hand, but I don’t move, not even an inch, because I know the scars I can cause will be permanent. And it would definitely make it harder to escape from here.
“Go on … just the tip,” he muses, leaning in until the tip pierces through the slit of his mouth, and it opens up, his tongue slipping out to curl around the blade like only a snake would.
I retract the knife.
Stabbing him wouldn’t get me what I wanted.
The other two boys laugh.
“Shame,” Felix mumbles and leans back in his seat again.
He’s taunting me, but I won’t fall for this trick.
“No, you’re the shameful ones for stealing what belongs to me,” I say.
“Sounds like it’s important to you,” Dylan says, taking another drag of Felix’s smoke.
“What’s inside?” Alistair asks. “Secrets?”
“None of your fucking business,” I snarl.
“But it is.” Felix’s fingers curl, and his nails dig into the leather. “You came here into our fucking house just to get it back.” He throws me an arrogant look. “I want to know why.”
“Like I’d ever tell you,” I retort.
“You will if you want it back.”
Got him. “So you admit you took it?”
His brows rise. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“Your answers.”
My nostrils flare.
“Did you write it?” Alistair suddenly asks.
When I merely stare at him, Felix says, “Answer him.”
He’s testing me. But I can play this game. “No.”
Dylan’s eyes narrow. “Then who did?”
“My sister.”
Felix’s fingers twitch. “Say her name.”
“Eve.” I tilt my head. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” I lean on my knees to look him in the eyes. “Because she told you my name.”
A filthy smirk forms on his lips again, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
“I already like her,” Dylan muses.
“Don’t,” Felix barks, and the other two immediately look away.
So he really is the one in charge.
“Like? Chasing after someone in a stairwell is not something I’d do to someone I ‘like,’” I rebuke.
“We do,” Dylan replies, licking his lips.
A chill runs up and down my spine.
“Tell me why you three were at her funeral.” It’s a long shot, but I have to try.
“Why should we have to explain ourselves to you?” Dylan answers.
“All her friends were there,” Alistair adds.
“Friends, yes,” I say.
Felix’s eyes narrow. “Are you implying something?”
Yes, I am. But I won’t say it out loud. Not while I still need something from them.
“Just give me the fucking diary. It’s no use to you,” I say through gritted teeth.
“So it’s important to you,” Felix muses. “How important?”
“She was my sister. She didn’t want anyone to read it. Except for me,” I say, still clutching that knife firmly in my hand.
His brow rises. “How do you know?”
“I just do,” I say, tired of these games. “Now give me the diary.”
He tilts his head. “Show me what you’re willing to do, then.”
I frown. “What? Why? It’s mine.”
With a dead-serious look, he says, “Get on your knees.”
Is he for real?
My fingers tighten around the knife. “No. No fucking way.”
Why would he think I’d do that willingly? I don’t fucking know what he’s planning, and I sure as hell know what these boys are capable of. It can’t be anything good.
“Well then, I guess the diary is gone forever,” Dylan muses from his seat, pushing out his cigarette in the ashtray.
“I need it,” I growl back. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I’m not joking either,” Felix replies, eyeing my knife. “The question is … what are you willing to do to get it back?”
I grind my teeth in frustration, contemplating whether I should stab him again. But it’s three against one, and they would not let me walk out of here without an equally painful scratch.
“Twirl around for me,” Felix taunts. “Let me see what’s underneath that skirt.”
“Perverts,” I mutter under my breath.
Dylan laughs. “Thanks for the compliment.”
Of course they’d see it as a compliment.
There’s a glimmer in his eyes. “You haven’t even seen us at our worst yet.”
“Now twirl, or you’ll never see that fucking diary again,” Felix says, gawking at me with those eyes that scream dominance.
He wants to overpower me.
Make me submit.
And if I want that diary back, I don’t have any fucking choice in the matter.
Fuck.
Sighing out loud, I slowly twirl around so the skirt doesn’t rise too much, but I can still catch a glimpse of their mischievous and victorious looks, and they piss me off.
Felix suddenly stands up, and his hand coils around my wrist the moment I reach the end of my spin. His grip is firm, painful even, and I struggle to jerk free.
He’s face-to-face with me, and it makes it hard to breathe.
“Let go of me,” I growl, trying to keep my bearings.
Violence flickers in his eyes. “No, I don’t think I will.”
He shakes my wrist so hard I lose my grip on the knife, and it drops … right into his other hand.
Before I can even react, he’s already thrown it to Dylan, who easily catches it. He twirls it around in his hand, showing off the fact that I’m no longer in control.
They are.
My body floods with panic, but I swallow down the nerves.
Felix’s free hand latches onto my shoulder. “In fact, I think it’s about time you go down on your fucking knees.” Gripping my wrist, he forces me down until I collapse onto the floor from his overpowering strength. With his darkening gaze on me, I struggle to even react. His half-mast killer eyes alone could pin anyone to the floor.
He releases my wrist, only to grab my face, pushing my cheeks together. “That pretty face deserves to be destroyed.” His fingers slide down to my chin, and he pushes it down, forcing a thumb inside. “You want your fucking diary back?”
When I try to speak, he shushes me. “Just nod.”
Fuck. I hate him so much. But I still nod because I can’t even say a word without gargling from his fingers slowly pushing farther down my tongue.
“Then be a good little fucking slut and gag for me,” he growls, stuffing his fingers all the way inside until his knuckles hit my teeth.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I cough out loud, trying to resist the urge to vomit.
“That’s it. That’s the little slut-face I’m looking for,” Felix murmurs, leaning in to spit on my face.
Dylan and Alistair laugh. “Get her.”
When Felix pulls his fingers from my throat, I gag and mutter, “Fuck you.”
“Gladly,” Felix replies. He slowly tugs down his zipper. “But first, you’re going to show me just how much that throat of yours can take.”
My eyes widen. He’s really going to make me do this, isn’t he?
Fuck.
I want to scream, but it wouldn’t do a thing.
I’m in their lair, and no one here would help me.
And if I don’t do what he wants, I’ll never see that diary again.
I have no choice.
Making a face, I stare him down as he tilts my chin down so my eyes follow. His abs tighten through his shirt as he pulls his cock right through the hole of the zipper. It’s hard. Curved. And huge. Much bigger than any of my previous lovers.
But that’s not the thing that makes me gasp.
It’s the number of piercings.
Four of them, at least, an ampallang through the glans and a ring below in the frenum, one barbell through the shaft, and a ring through the pubic. Jesus.
“Like my jewelry?” He pushes my chin down until my lips part. “You’ll like it even more when they slide across your tongue.”
“You’re fucked up,” I say.
“You don’t even know how badly,” he retorts. “Now part those pretty fucking lips for me, Pen, and let’s see how fucked up you can get too.”
Before I can even say another word, he’s already slipped his hard-on into my mouth. The cold sting of his barbells hit my palate, almost making me gag, but he keeps going, ignoring all the coughs and heaves I’m doing as he goes deeper and deeper.
“That’s it. Show me how much of a fucking slut you can become,” he groans. “Now suck my cock like a good slut would.”
I wrap my tongue around his shaft.
Then I bite down.
He growls but doesn’t pull back.
Even when the metallic taste of blood sits on my tongue.
“You think a little blood will make me stop?”
SLAP!
My cheeks sting with heat from the palm of his hand.
“She bit you?” Dylan asks, and he flicks his finger. “Ali. Put it in the fire.”
Alistair jumps up from his seat, the diary tumbling from his shirt.
My eyes widen as he rushes for the fireplace in the back and holds it in front of the flames.
No!
Felix grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “Now, are you going to behave?” he growls.
I nod, but it’s a reluctant nod, one of fierce rebellion.
Alistair slowly pulls away, even though he’s still close enough to the fire to chuck it in if I don’t do exactly what I’m told.
Fuck.
I’ve really gotten myself deep into trouble.
Felix’s fingers push into my cheeks as he forces my lips around his shaft. “Your tongue belongs to me now. And I will fuck it how I see fit.”
He thrusts inside without warning. I struggle to even breathe.
He holds my face in place, making it impossible to move, let alone speak as he ravages my mouth over and over. His barbells cling against my teeth and scrape my throat raw.
Tears well up in my eyes—not from the rage but from the way he plunges inside and makes me gag.
But the worst part of it all is how I can feel my panties slowly growing wet.
Fuck. This should not be happening.
I ignore the desire building in my body and focus on the moment, trying to get through it without losing my sanity.
But it’s hard, so hard, with those twisted half-mast eyes coldly glaring deep into my soul with heartless cruelty.
He pulls out, only to thrust back inside all the way to the base.
Brutal.
“Take it like a good fucking slut, Pen,” he groans.
His length bobs up and down against my throat, making me intensely aware of every passing second.
Because I can’t. Fucking. Breathe.
When he pulls out again, I suck in the oxygen, worried I might not have any the next time he does it.
“Stick out your tongue,” he says.
I wish I could say no.
But this diary … it’s more important to me than my own body.
When I do, he plunges back in with no remorse, fucking my face as he holds it in place.
“I’m going to fucking coat your tongue with cum, and you’re going to swallow it all,” he groans.
When I shake my head, he grabs a fistful of my hair and buries himself to the hilt. “You don’t get to say no to me, Pen. This is the deal. You want your diary? You’ll eat my fucking cum to get it. Now lick.”
I struggle to even stick out my tongue without gagging, but I persist.
And from the vicious look in his eyes, he’s not amused.
“You can take it deep. You’ve done this before. I can feel it.” He slaps my cheek again. “You like it rough, don’t you?”
I’m not going to answer his taunts.
He knows why I’m here.
He’s trying to mess with my head.
“Then fucking choke on it,” he says, and he thrusts in so fast I still gag.
Grunting, he buries himself until all his barbells and rings are inside my mouth, and an explosion of cum fills me up.
Oh God.
It’s warm and salty, and I can’t keep it all inside.
As he pulls out, I drop on hands and knees and heave it all out onto the hardwood floor.
But I can still taste him.
And I can still feel my pussy throb.
Fuck.
“Bad Penelope.” Felix grabs me by the hair and shoves me down onto the floor. “I told you to eat my fucking cum. Now lick.” He drags my face through until my tongue dips out, and I taste him all over again.
Fucking hell.
This is the most insane, debasing thing I’ve ever done.
And those boys up there, watching him, they’re viciously smiling like they’re enjoying the show.
Fuck them and fuck their fucking faces.
“Clean it,” he growls. “These floors are expensive as fuck.”
“You got what you wanted,” Alistair suddenly says. “Let’s finish this up?”
“I decide when it’s done!” Felix barks at him, making him clutch the diary tighter.
Then Felix shoves his boot on my back, forcing me to lie on the floor. “And I’m not nearly fucking done with this girl who made me bleed.”
“I’ll make you bleed even more for doing this to me,” I spit out.
His eye twitches, and he leans in, grabbing my hair to make me look at him. “I’d like to see you try, rat.”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I seethe.
“Oh, how about whore, then?” He pushes me down in the puddle of cum and puts his dick back into his pants. “I’m done. Let this whore out.”
What? Not without my diary. Not after what he just made me do to get it back in the first place.
“Aw … and I was so looking forward to my turn,” Dylan muses and waves the knife around like it’s a plaything.
Like he meant to use it on me.
I shiver.
Alistair holds out my sister’s diary to Felix. “What about her book? A promise is a promise.”
Felix grumbles. “Fine.”
He snatches it from Alistair’s hands and chucks it at my face, the pages rolling through the same cum that was just deposited deep inside my throat.
I quickly snatch it off the floor as I get up on my knees, but some of the book’s pages are completely soaked. God-fucking-dammit.
“Have fun with your sister’s fucking diary,” Dylan says.
As I come to a stand, clutching the diary tightly against my chest, my sticky hair clings to my shirt, and half my face is covered in semen.
And they start to fucking snigger.
“You’ll pay for this,” I growl at Felix.
He doesn’t seem fazed at all. Cold. Uncaring. Except for that one glimmer in his eyes. “You know where to find me if you want to make good on that fucking statement.”
I turn and rush out the door, ignoring all the looks and catcalls from the other guys living in this house whose eyes almost bulge out of their skulls from the sheer amount of filth on my face.
But I’ll hold my head high.
Even though I know I can’t escape these boys …
These boys who will ruin me.
“I can’t fucking wait to see you again …” Felix calls after me. “Next time, I’ll make you beg.”