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I held it as Miles dived in, kissing my neck and pawing my ass. “I know exactly what you’re begging for,” he replied.

I gripped the metal in my hand, realizing it was the pump for the soap dispenser on the granite top. It had a long, metal spout that was thin and sharp. I tensed my arm, slowly and quietly wiggling it out of its hole until it finally popped off, and I hurriedly hid it behind my back.

“Get off me,” I ordered, done playing.

But then he grabbed my hair, and I cried out as he yanked my head back. “Don’t tease me.”

He slipped his other hand in the top of my tank and squeezed my breast as he smothered my neck with his mouth. “You can cry, though, if you want to. Just get those fucking pants off.”

I cringed, gripping the soap pump and raising my arm to bring it down across his face, but then the door burst opened, and we both shot our heads up, relief flooding me.

But that was short-lived.

Astrid.

My chest caved, and my eyes flared, quickly hiding my weapon behind my back again. She walked through the door and shut it behind her, looking like she wanted some trouble.

“So you think you can fuck my boyfriend, you little slut?” She held my eyes, looking half-amused and half-daring.

I loosed and retightened my fingers around the makeshift weapon in my hand, liquid heat pouring under the skin of my neck and chest.

Jesus, I was scared. Michael.

She walked over, hooking an arm around Miles’ neck and darted out her tongue, flicking his lips. He dived in for a kiss, tightening his hold on me, and I winced, pushing away from him and darting for the door.

But he caught me, throwing me back against the sink. My skin crawled, and I started to breathe hard and fast. No.

I wanted out of here. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom.

Astrid leaned back, speaking to Miles, “You want her?”

He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, jerking me into him like I was his dinner. “Fuck yeah,” he growled, and I let out a small cry, feeling the ridge of his cock rub against me.

“Bend her over and give it to her from behind,” Astrid ordered him. “And be rough. I don’t like her.”

He whipped me around, and I gasped as the room spun and he forced my head down over the counter.

Astrid hopped up on the sink next to me, whispering in my ear, “I like to watch him dick other girls.”

I couldn’t breathe. I tried to inhale, but my chest only shook more and more.

Miles’ reached around to unzip my jeans, and I screamed, my throat going raw as a surge of anger filled my muscles. I lashed out.

Shooting back upright, I pulled both arms back and s

wung them straight across Astrid’s face, slamming her into the mirror to my right.

The left side of her head crashed into the glass, quickly shattering it into dozens of splinters and shards.

I whipped around, hitting Miles in the side of the face, gouging his skin with the spout of the pump and ripping a line right down his cheek.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, shooting a hand to his face and stumbling backward.

“You bitch!” Astrid cried out. “You cut my face!”

I shot up, holding out my weapon in front of me and backing up to the wall as sweat broke out across my body. “Good, you sick fucks!” I raged, fury heating my face.

“Come here!” Miles yelled, and I cried out as he grabbed my arm and damn near ripped it out of the socket as he threw me to floor.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance