Page 47 of My Forever Sin

I continue scratching at him, the nails on my other hand now causing rivulets of blood to bead next to his cock and slide down onto my hands. A moan slips out of me as my walls start clenching, a crescendo building low in my belly. He chuckles. His thumb rubs away the tears running down my face as he watches me with an all-consuming gaze, his hips working back and forth. My arm seizes as I grind hard circles, every muscle in my body tensing.

It’s hard to breathe now as he relentlessly fucks my throat, my jaw feeling like it’s locking in place, but before I can try and push him away again, my orgasm slams through me and I whimper, closing my eyes. Warm, salty liquid fills my throat as he groans. My walls clench and I continue to whimper my orgasm out around him, my ass falling flat onto my heels.

“Good fucking girl.” He strokes beneath my chin. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

He finally pulls out of me, and I spit the remnants of his cum onto the floor. It dribbles down my chin and into the palm of his hand before I gasp for precious oxygen.

He yanks me forward, bending down so we’re face to face, then he scoops his cum off my chin and shoves his fingers into my mouth. “Clean up your fucking mess.”

I bite down on his fingers, but a squirming shudder runs over me as I realise I could bite his fingers off and loosen my teeth, which allows him to push the cum deeper and down my throat. “No matter who comes to whisk you away on a glittering steed, or who you think you can fuck. I will be the face you think about when he fucks you, while you lay there, taking it like a good little housewife.” He retreats. “Lacey and Asher? They can watch while I fuck you.”

Now that the heady euphoria is dissipating, I rest my palms on the ground in front of me, chest heaving. “Fucking disgusting asshole,” I curse, pulling in deep breaths as I push myself to stand.

“That’s not what you were saying when you came around your fingers with my cock in your mouth.”

I feel nauseous.

Fuck you, heart.

He zips up his trousers, then his boots crunch away from me. “Come on.”

“Fuck you,” I spit, examining my bloodied hand.

I fucking hate Kain Westbrook.

13

Kain

I’m an asshole. But my words did what they were supposed to do because I’m currently following a stomping and flustered Jordie out of the foliage. Asher and Blake stand there with flushed cheeks, waiting. She pushes a branch, attempting to hit me, but I swerve out of the way. My cock is still pulsing with the ghost of her mouth on it, and her little attitude is doing nothing to satiate me—it just makes me want to claim her again and again. She might hate me, but she’s still mine and she’d do well to remember it, because I refuse to accept any other ending for us. I don’t know what came over me back there. She flashed an image into my head—her fucking someone that isn’t me—and it set me the fuck off because even though, right now, we’re in the trenches, she’s still fucking mine. The side that was supposed to push her, add more heat to her thunder, refrain from touching her in any way that would have her begging for me suddenly flatlined, and my need to show her exactly just how much she still belongs she is took over.

Her scratches sting, and the material of my boxers stick to them from the blood escaping the wounds she inflicted and I’m secretly hoping they leave scars.

She probably hates me even more now, but I don’t care. She needs the fuel if she’s to survive what’s coming. I know Heath, Dorrian, and Vivian are up to something, but I don’t know what.

Having Jordie’s plump lips wrapped around my cock, makeup smudged and dripping down the sides of her mouth as she took my entire length… that sight should be illegal. I don’t know why I enjoyed calling her my stepsister. Call me disturbed, but it made my dick throb. The thought of our love being so forbidden it’s actually wrong, thrills me. She’s returned and I’ve gone from feeling guilt—numbing it through weed—to fucking feeling everything at once. Everything.

“K, are you listening?” Asher clicks his fingers in front of my face, pulling me back to the present. Low murmur of party goers resumes and Jordie is gone.

“Yeah,” I say. “Where’s Jordie?”

“She’s gone inside with Cassie.”

I relax, only by a fraction, knowing she’s with Cassie. The guys definitely noticed the bottom half of Jordan’s makeup gone, but they knew better than to question it. Especially Blake, who has made it his life's mission to find out exactly what’s happening between us. Asher… he’s not as perceptive, or he’s just minding his business and watching from afar.

Everyone around us is too drunk to remember what game we were supposed to be playing and are now engaged in sucking each other's faces off. It’s a sight that, if the clergy saw, they’d have a fit. But it’s not my problem, it’s Lacey’s. Though I don’t doubt Heath would somehow make it my problem.

We head back to the car park, and I perch on the bonnet of my car, lighting another joint.

“Kain.” A sultry singsong scratches my ears and makes my muscles tense. A hand grips the back of my neck tightly before loosening and gliding down my shoulder. Lacey slinks in front of me—her pupils blown and breasts spilling out of her low-cut habit stained with blood, holding the loser’s bottle, half empty.

My skin crawls as her hand trails down my arm and takes hold of mine. “You said you’d deal with me later,” she croons, fingers playing with mine, a crooked grin plastered on her face. I fight hard to keep my focus on her but out of the corner of my eye I see Asher and Blake smirking behind her.

“We have nothing to discuss, Lacey.”

Her mouth curls, one of her thinly plucked eyebrows raising. “You can’t keep running from me,” she slurs. “Our parents want us married, and that’s what will happen.” Anything she says sounds like it’s coming from a petulant child. I know I’m digging myself a hole with her the longer I deny her, but every time my mind flashes me images of her naked body touching mine and Jordie finding out, guilt wraps its talons around me and anything I eat threatens to make a reappearance. She would never forgive me for what I did.

Asher props one of his legs on the front wheel of his motorbike, grabs the air in front of his hips and begins thrusting while Blake snickers behind him. I roll my eyes at their childishness which causes Lacey to turn and look at them. Asher moves quickly, spinning his back to us, rummaging through his cargo trouser pocket. They know about my agreement with Lacey but what they don’t know is it isn’t exactly mutual pleasure. It’s better if it remains that way.