I want to ask her which she would choose, but I can’t. Not here, not with all of them watching.
I grab the twine holding her up and pull it toward me. Crystal gasps, her body turning slowly as she moves away from the wall. When her back is to me, I step in, pressing my body flush with hers. I pin her in front of me, flatten my hand on her smooth abdomen, and bury my face in her hair. The smell of her makes me start to harden, and the feel of her ass against my cock does the rest. When I’m not looking at her strung up like a fresh kill, or at them waiting like a pack of hungry dogs to devour the scraps, she’s just Crystal, the girl I want more than I should. The girl who got under my skin and fucked my head all kinds of ways.
I wrap one arm around her chest, blocking the others’ view. I don’t want their eyes on her tits, on the hard points of her cold nipples. The sensation of them against my skin makes me nearly moan aloud.
“Is this what you want?” I whisper against her neck, where none of them can see it. The sound is buried in her hair, and I don’t even know if she can hear it. “You want me to fuck you?”
In answer, she arches back, pressing her round ass against my cock. I don’t want to want her like this, in front of a dozen other guys. I don’t want to be hard, to have so little control over my own dick that it pulses against her ass when she moves against it even now, with an audience.
I want to fuck her alone, to be the only man who’s ever heard her moaning cries of ecstasy when she cums. I don’t share. When I’m inside her, I don’t need anyone’s eyes on me but hers. Standing here in a public locker room, I want to be too pissed to feel anything, even aroused. Too angry to do what Preston wants, what he knows I’ll do because he figured it out before I was ready to tell even myself.
I’m disgusted with myself, with the heat that ripples through my veins, through my muscles, at the thought of being buried inside her again. I’m ashamed that when I slide my hand lower, burying it between her legs and covering her mound so our spectators can’t see, that the thought of her tight, slippery cunt floods my mind, and blood races to my cock, now so hard it hurts.
The truth is, I’m blind with lust for her. I’m mad with the desire to sink my cock balls deep into her, to cum with my whole body, the way only she can make me. I’d rip my own dick off before I’d let anyone else fuck her. Before I can talk myself out of it, I yank open the laces on the front of my pants and shove the front of them down enough to free my cock.
The guys all cheer. I try not to hear them, but I can feel them watching, panting like dogs while this girl, who we called a dog, hangs her head forward, her hair obscuring her face, waiting for me to nail her for their enjoyment.
Suddenly, rage swells inside my chest, clutching it like a fist. I push my cock down, pushing the thick head against her entrance. I want to plow into her, to pound her for all I’m worth, to show them what they want to see. Not for their entertainment, but to show them what they can never have. And most of all, because Preston thinks I won’t do it.
I grab a handful of her hair, pulling her head back, and they whoop louder, yelling for me to fuck her hard.
“Are you wet?” I growl into her hair. She shakes her head, and I remember the last time, how she tightened up and cried out in pain when I didn’t get her ready, and that time, she was plenty wet.
I spit on my fingers and slide one into her, my cock throbbing at the stretch of her cunt around a single finger. I work another one in, pumping them a few times. The guys are going crazy, and I fucking hate them. I don’t want to give them this view of her, but I don’t want to hurt her, either. Gritting my teeth, I spit on my hand and smear it over my cock with the precum that’s beading on the head. Then I guide it down and push it past the achingly tight grip of her entrance.
She gasps, widening her stance and dropping her head forward between her shoulders again. I don’t hear the guys anymore. I don’t hear anything except her soft gasps of breath as I grip her hip and push deeper into her slick, bare cunt. I grasp her shoulder and begin to move, slow at first and then faster as she gets wetter. A streak of blood smears my cock when I draw back, and I bury myself deep, glad she’s still bleeding enough to lube her up. She gasps when I reach her depths, and I’m already close. I don’t try to hold back or make myself wait for her. I fuck her hard and fast, pounding into her with the strength of the fury raging inside me, just like they want me to.
I learned a long time ago that being at the top doesn’t make my life any more mine than the guy at the bottom of the shit pile of life. Probably less. This isn’t for Crystal, but it’s not for me, either. It’s for Preston; for the asshole who spawned my father. It’s for the team, who stand clapping and hooting when I grab her hair and pull her head back. She straightens, throwing her head back against my shoulder, and I grip her hip and slam up into her. She gasps aloud, a whimpering moan of pleasure.
I realize then that she’s not just wet with blood. The slutlikesit. Hell, for all I know she gets off on being fucked in front of an audience. Just because I hate that it feels good to me, that I can get it up for a girl who’s hanging from the showerhead, doesn’t mean she shares that self-loathing. I’m disgusted by my body’s physical reaction, but I hadn’t even considered that it might turn her on. Not until she arches her back and grinds her ass against me so I can go deeper.
I drive into her with bruising force, my strong fingers biting into her soft hip until I’m gripping the bone. She whimpers again, and I’m so fucking done with this show. I bury my cock all the way to my aching, full balls and let myself cum, releasing deep inside the stretch of her cunt. I do it because I’m a bastard, and my punishment is now her punishment. Because I’m a selfish asshole, and I don’t want her to cum. Only I get to see that. Only I get to feel it pulse along every inch of my shaft, to hear her helpless, breathy cries as she cums withmyname on her lips.
I press my forehead to her shoulder, cursing myself with everything I have inside me for doing this. I should have resisted harder. I should have fought Preston, not worried that someone might take a turn with her while my back was turned. Her body is shaking against mine, and reality begins to settle back into my body.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter against her neck, my cock jerking as it spills the last pulses of cum into her depths.
She doesn’t say anything. She hasn’t said a word this whole time. All she said was no, and I fucked her anyway. I fucked her, and I liked it. There’s no amount of self-loathing in the world that can change that fact.
I pull out, ignoring the jostling and hooting of the guys who still don’t get it. Preston gets it. He knows what he did. He made me admit that I care about this girl who I shouldn’t care about. That I kept something from him to protect a girl who should be nothing but a whore and a dog to me.
I put my dick away and turn to him, holding out an arm to block the others. I get right up in his face, close enough that I could choke the shit out of him. “Give me your knife.”
Preston doesn’t move, but his eyes lock on mine. Without breaking our stare-down, he takes out his knife and hands it to me. I could gut the bastard like a fish, but I won’t. I won’t hold the blade under his chin and threaten that if he ever touches my pet again, I’ll slit his throat. I won’t do anything because I’ve proved my point, and he’s proved his. Anything else will happen behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.
I take the knife and grab the rope above Crystal. With one slash, I slice through it. She lets out a little cry and stumbles into the corner of the shower, holding her arms in front of her. I fold Preston’s knife and tuck it into my pants before scooping Crystal up in my arms, ignoring the way she shrinks away from me. A couple of the guys grumble and boo quietly when they realize they won’t be getting a turn. The fun is over. This one is off-limits.
“Get me a blanket,” I say to no one in particular.
Colt appears with a huge towel, which he lays over Crystal. She huddles against me, burying her face in my chest as I cradle her body, one arm around her back and the other under her knees. Without another word, I turn and walk out, taking the girl with me. I know it’s a mistake before I take a single step, that I’m going to pay for this. But I don’t falter.
twenty-eight
Crystal
I keep my face turned to Devlin, away from Preston, away from Colt and the entire Willow Heights football team who witnessed. I don’t move when Devlin carries me out. I don’t look up until he’s settling me into the passenger seat of his car, buckling me in. When he drives away, I turn my face to the window, away from him.
There’s nothing to say. Every time I think they can’t break me further, that I’m already shattered, they find a way. I’m done. I can’t take any more. I want out. Is this how Royal felt? Was there something going on with him that he couldn’t tell the rest of us? Did he really run away, like Daddy says? Is that the only way out? I want to leave the game and never set foot on their gameboard again. Why won’t they let me out?