Page 39 of The October Trials

“Cage!”

He reaches between us, two thick fingers dragging through the slick ruin of my arousal and the warm blood painting my thighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting. His steely gaze pins me in place as he raises them to his mouth, sucking them in.

The sight is fucked up. Stripped of anything even remotely human. Wrong in every way… and it makes my pussy clench harder around him.

Maybe I am fucked up.

I can’t look away as his tongue drags over his fingers while he slowly rocks his hips into me. Deep, so damn deep my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“Christ.” A low, animalistic groan rumbles from his chest. “You taste even better than I imagined. Your blood’s sweeter when it’s mixed with the way your cunt drips for me. Here, open up and taste for yourself.”

He shoves his two fingers into my mouth, and I taste it. The sickening, addictive taste of my own blood. It’s no wonder he’s like a vampire, lapping it up every chance he gets.

Parker thrashes against the ropes, screaming my name over and over, begging, cursing, sobbing. The sound should shatter whatever is left of me. Instead, it makes my pussy throb.

“Make him stop,” I hear myself whisper.

“I like the way you fucking think, little bird.” His piercings hurt as he pulls himself out of me, but at this point, I welcome the pain.

He grabs his spider and places it back on the tree on the other side of us.

I collapse onto the grass, my arms and legs giving out beneath me. Every nerve feels raw. My thighs shake—no, my whole body shakes.

Between my legs, I’m sore in a way I’ve never felt before, stretched and claimed by the masked devil.

14

Cage

Her moans. Her whimpers. Her trembling body. Fuck, the things they do to me. I feel savage in my desire to claim her, to fuck her raw, to own every inch of her.

Because of my position in the Legion, I’ve seen great works of art, beautiful women, world-famous acts of theater and music. I’ve had a private tour of the Louvre after hours, seen what were considered the most beautiful places in the world.

But fuck if any of it held a candle to Blair writhing beneath me.

I tuck myself back into my jeans, still hard and aching, and cross to the tree in three long strides. The rope comes away easily under my fingers, and Parker’s body pitches forward. I catch him by the collar and drag him across the forest floor like a sack of meat, dumping him beside Blair.

“What—” His voice is thick, slurred. “What the fuck—”

“Shut up.”

Blair is on her side, curled into herself, her chest heaving. Her eyes are glassy, distant, like she’s somewhere far away from these woods, this moment, this version of herself.

She looks like she’s been properly fucked.

“Get over here,” I say to Parker, pointing to the space between Blair’s legs. “On your knees.”

His face goes white. “What are you doi—”

“Now.”

He hesitates only a second before he crawls forward, positioning himself between Blair’s thighs. Like a good little pup, always doing what he’s told.

“Look at the mess I made,” I say, my voice taunting. “Clean it up.”

Parker’s head snaps toward me, his eyebrows pinching with disgust and disbelief. “You can’t be serious—”

“Lick her clean,” I snap. “Every drop. Blood, cum, all of it. Or I’ll make you wish I’d left you tied to that tree, initiate. You’re lucky you’re not dead already for trying to steal her virginity.”