Page 77 of To the Grave

“Uh-huh,” I said around his dick.

Jace spread my ass cheeks wide, sinking even deeper into my ass, the head of his dick hitting a new erogenous zone that lit my body up like a sparkler on the Fourth of the July.

“Oh my god,” I said as I fell into my orgasm. “I can’t… Fuck…”

I lost control of everything as I came, heard Wolf groan as he found his own release, felt the spill of Otis’ hot semen into my mouth.

“Take it like a good girl,” Jace growled behind me. “Take it like a good fucking girl.”

There was nothing but this. Nothing but us.

The slide of our flesh and panting of our breath and pleasure so intense it made my eyes burn, my pussy convulsing around Wolf’s dick, my ass contracting so tightly around Jace’s cock he had to tunnel through, all while I swallowed Otis’ come, making him part of me too.

When he finally pulled his dick out of my mouth I was so out of it I could only collapse, panting, onto Wolf. I was surprised to feel the heat of tears on my cheeks, surprised to see them fall onto the sequins on Wolf’s shirt.

I didn’t even know why until I felt him stroke my hair, felt the press of his lips against the top of my head.

“We’re sorry, Daisy. We’re so sorry.”

Chapter 50

Daisy

Iwas sore the next morning when we took an Uber to the Wharton campus.

Or more specifically, my ass was sore.

I hadn’t cared at all about the size of Jace’s huge pierced dick when we’d been in the limo, but today it was abundantly clear that I’d pushed the envelope.

Which was a-okay with me, sore ass and all.

Because our fuck-fest in the limo had been mind-blowing, but even more than that, it had been healing. Or maybe it was Wolf’s apology after, said with so much tenderness, and the way Jace had pulled me into his arms in the back of the limo, Wolf and Otis surrounding me, all of them murmuring words of regret and reassurances.

Either way, I felt good — in spite of my sore ass — when we got out of the Uber at UPenn, the campus that hosted the Wharton School. It was a perfect fall day, the early November air crisp, the leaves a riot of color on the picturesque college campus. It would be Thanksgiving soon, and I knew for sure now that I wouldn’t be spending it at my dad’s house.

The Beasts were my family too. I didn’t know what I would do long-term, but I knew I wanted to spend every second with them in the meantime.

Wolf looked at his phone and started down one of the brick-lined walkways. “This way.”

I was surprised to feel Jace take my hand. He didn’t seem like the hand-holding type, but it felt good to feel his fingers wrapped around mine, like we might have been just another couple on campus, walking to the dining hall or to class.

It made me sad in a way. I’d had every opportunity to choose my own way. There had been — and still was — pressure from my dad, but I’d had security and privilege, possibilities in every direction.

Jace had been at a disadvantage from the beginning: orphaned, raised on the Blades compound by Mac with no real chance for another life. Maybe he would have chosen the same one, but maybe not. Maybe he would have chosen something else for himself, college and work he loved. Maybe he would have had a preppy girlfriend at university, one he would have taken home to meet his parents in the suburbs.

We’d never know.He’dnever know.

That seemed like a shame, even though I was also selfishly grateful for the way things had played out. Our shared circumstances had brought us together and I was glad for that, even if it was all kinds of messed up right now.

“It’s this one,” Wolf said, starting toward one of the brick buildings. “Professor Alvarez’s class should be ending in about ten minutes.”

We entered the building through a set of double glass doors and stepped into a tiled vestibule. A hall stretched ahead, the sound of a woman’s voice speaking from beyond one of the lecture doors. To the right, a staircase led to the second floor.

Everything was way nicer than it had been at the community college I’d attended, which was to be expected, I guess. UPenn was an Ivy and Wharton was a prestigious business school. I wondered again how Michael White had gotten from the Blackwell Home for Boys to an Ivy League school while Mac had stayed in Blackwell Falls.

Had it been because of my mom? Had Mac stayed in the hopes that she’d come back after college, change her mind about marrying a rich guy and settling down to sit on charitable committees and play tennis at the country club?

“Should be on the second floor,” Wolf said, starting up the staircase.

---