Everything is going to be okay. I cling to the words Demetra spoke earlier, her soft voice and kind eyes truly believing the phrase. Clutching to that comfort, to what I hadn’t even wanted, gives me the ability to lower myself to my knees without whimpering.
“Scoot forward, come on,” Soren encourages, lacing his fingers through my dark brown hair. I do as he commands and scoot forward, clutching the edges of my skirt to hide the fact that I’m shaking. “That’s a good girl.”
Shuddering breaths sell me out. I know they can hear me gasping for air, choking down a panic attack that will undoubtedly rip me to pieces. My eyes level with Soren’s zipper, the bulge beneath twitching when I give him my full focus.
“Please,” I beg. It’s a last-ditch effort. And I know it’s useless. But I can’t stop the words from spilling out of my lips. “Please don’t make me do this.”
He fists my hair and presses his crotch into my face. I push on his thighs and grant myself space to breathe, but I’m only given a few centimeters.
“Let’s go,” he commands in a gravelly voice. “Do you want to get caught, Ms. Alex?”
Tomas hums as he kneels beside me, fingering the top of my blouse. “How embarrassing would that be?”
Crimson heat flushes my cheeks when the tip of his finger finds my nipple. Corded tension threads through my torso when the nub hardens under his attention. A hiss escapes his lips and then he whispers, “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
“Zipper,” Soren repeats firmly. “Now.”
I can’t hide the shaking, the gasping, the tears that brim in my eyes. Obeying his command is what will get me through this faster. How hard can a blow job be? It’s sucking. That’s it. He’ll probably blow his wad fast from all the tension. The sound of the zipper sliding open cuts through the stairwell, far too loud, far too shameful. His cock flops out into my open palm, the reddened tip carrying a bead of fluid.
He hooks his thumb into my mouth before I can breathe and shoves his cock between my lips, gliding his shaft over my tongue. The long groan that echoes from him causes him to bow forward and catch himself on the brick above my head. Parker nudges open my knees, his hand snaking up my thigh and scraping the front of my panties.
Surprisingly—shamefully—I buck into his hand. He sucks air through his teeth, shock rippling through us both at my response as Tomas continues to fondle my nipples. My breasts are exposed at this point, cold air sweeping over my delicate flesh as a wet tongue joins the warmth of my cleavage.
My mouth widens, the corners tightening and threatening to snap. I squeeze my eyes shut as Soren withdraws, only to return with a vicious thrust. His grip on my hair tightens. “Eyes open, Ms. Alex.”
My eyelids stutter as I blink up at him, glaring through my blurry vision at the satisfied smirk on his lips. Though his jaw is slack and his eyelids flutter, I see the victory there. I see the achievement that he claims as his own.
Parker nudges his lips at my ear, tongue extending to coat my lobe. The slurp is loud and inspires outrage, the kind of rage that could fuel a murder spree.
Starting with these three assholes.
“You’re wet,” he whispers, fingers pushing into my panties. “You’re soaked.”
I want to close my eyes. I want to pretend like what’s happening has nothing to do with the puddle of arousal in my panties. It’s just an instinctive response. Any prey under pressure would do much the same, something to protect themselves from harm. I’m flooded because I anticipate getting raped. That’s it. My body just wants to make sure that when I’m taken, when I’m fucked twelve ways to Sunday, my channel is properly lubricated.
That’s it. That’s all that’s happening.
“Not as innocent as I thought,” Parker claims, nudging my panties aside. His fingers swim through the fluid marking my slit and I whimper, choking as Soren nudges his cock to the back of my throat.
Even if I could protest, I wouldn’t. Talking back will only make it worse. I struggle to breathe as Soren clutches my hair tightly in his fingers, the mushroom head of his cock lodging between my tonsils. I gag, eyes rolling back as my lungs scream for air. Chuckling, he withdraws, allowing me to suck life-saving air into my burning lungs.
Drool dribbles from my lips that he thumbs in what seems to be an almost affectionate motion, then he slaps his cock on my lips.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
A hand appears on Soren’s shoulder, a corded muscular arm coming into view next. Parker and Tomas don’t stop what they’re doing. If anything, their pace quickens as soon as Lev appears.
“The same thing you want to do,” Soren claims as he shoves his cock back into my mouth. “You can join us or watch. Come on. You know this cock tease needs a good dicking.”
Lev steps back, his image sandwiched between Soren’s shoulder and the outline of Parker lodged into my neck. I’m vaguely aware of his face—of the war in his eyes as he watches what’s happening—and part of me hopes that he stops this from happening. Sure, he fucking hates me, and yes, he’ll likely always hate me, but there’s got to be the boy in there I know exists from childhood, the man who yanked me away from the mess that was my very close encounter with a rapist back at my uncle’s summer home.
It took a while for me to piece it together, to realize he was tugging me deeper into the woods to get me away from the party, but maybe I was just searching for someone to save me. I want protection. I want security. I want someone to keep me from the same fate as my father.
Maybe that’s Lev.
But when Lev unzips his jeans, my hope shatters, brows dipping together while a tidal wave of tears prepares to spill from my eyes.
No, I argue mentally as Soren retreats, thumbing my mouth open as Lev pulls out his cock. No, this can’t be happening.