Page 63 of Poisoning Ivy
Oh,fuckkkkk.
The pleasure is violent, made worse by the threat of him burying the corkscrew inside of me.
"Killian," I gasp, begging for some sense of rationality to occur to him. But he's not here, lost somewhere between the pleasure and the pain as he bottoms out against me again and I hear the stab into his flesh, feel the warm blood spilling out around me. It coats my ass, drips between my thighs onto his cock. The sudden warmth makes my stomach clench, trying to deny that this actually feels good, in a fucked up way.
My nails rake over Monty's fingers as Killian plows me faster, and I try not to let the panic consume me lest it make me move suddenly and risk losing Killian's shiny, wicked toy inside me.
Monty's eyes open and for a moment, he looks far away, lost in the bliss of Theo inside him. But then he blinks, coming back to me a little, and the hunger in his eyes ignites again. He bridges the space between us and kisses me, letting his mouth do the work as his hands still hold me down for Killian to wreck me... and himself. I accept his kiss hungrily, desperate for the waves of bliss it pushes through me, the warmth it sends to every corner of my body.
He moans into my mouth when Theo bottoms out against him, and I scream into his as Killian yanks the wine key out of mewithout warning and adjusts me between his legs, gripping my waist to keep me captive against him as he renews his thrusts, faster, harder, and somehow deeper than before. He hits me in a spot that I'm sure no one has ever touched before, drawing fresh tears to my eyes, and making me try to crawl out of his grip. But it must have felt good for him, because he settles me before hitting me again in the same spot, over and over.
"Monty!" I scream, desperate for him to take the pain away as Killian spears me so deep I think he may come out through my throat.
My desperation fuels them, and Theo effectively turns Monty into a ragdoll. I feel him whisper against my lips, a little sound of surrender that sounds an awful lot like fuck, and then he goes limp, his mouth leaving mine as his head drops. I think Theo is the only thing keeping him upright at this point, with his arms wrapped around his waist as he drives into him and Killian drives into me, making me scream and tighten and clench. And just as warmth begins to pool low in my stomach, he hits my wall one last time and then freezes, groaning as he spills inside of me for the first time.
I can feel him twitching inside me as his hot cum spills against my cervix, sure to coat every inch of me with his seed. It's a silly thing to panic about, knowing that I probably won't be alive in a month for his fucking me without pulling out to matter, but the fear still grips me the way it did earlier when I realized Monty didn’t pull out.
It's like my chest is being squeezed between a vice. He slowly resumes his movement, making sure I've drained every drop out of him. I suck in a deep breath, pushing all of my concentration into moving his cum out of me before the damage can happen. Except, I know, logically, that that's not how it works.
"Ah, ah, Bambi." He laughs, and I feel his thumb swipe between my swollen pussy, which aches with the force of histhrusts and the pain of his foregoing my orgasm right as it was beginning. I feel cheated, particularly when he slips two fingers back inside of me, pushing his cum back into my throbbing pussy. "You take all of me this time. But that's a fun party trick. Remember it for the next time I take your ass. I'll bet you feel even better with MontyandTheo's cum coating my cock."
I groan at the lurid statement, unable to deny the need that he refused to extinguish... and equally unable to ask him to finish me, even as I watch Monty's cock begin to spray thick ropes of cum that splash across my face, landing on my cheek, my lips which are parted in shock, my lashes that flutter closed just before impact.
"Fuccckkkk." Theo growls, and then a long gasp leaves him as I imagine he comes too, spilling himself inside of Monty, who just spilled himself over my face.
It makes no sense, but as Killian slips his fingers back out of me and moves away and Monty pins me to the ground still with the hand that's not grinding over his dick, and Theo groans out his release, I feel betrayed, the only one who didn't get to come from that interaction.
When, at last, Monty releases my right hand, I wipe away a glob of his cum from my eye and will myself not to cry.
Don't shed any more fucking tears for them.
Yet as much as I crave the release of an orgasm after they built up such a devastating, furious combination of pleasure and pain inside me, I realize as Theo presses his lips to Monty's neck, and they gather themselves that that's probably the least of my concerns. Or at least, it should be. Now that they've all had their fill, my worth just dropped dramatically.
Killian's fist wraps around my hair so tightly that I feel his knuckles brush against my head, and I arch my back, my tits popping out the front of the dress as he yanks me to my feet.
"Get back to the house, Bambi. Don't make me tell you twice."
Chapter thirty-four
Theo
We box her in all the way back to the gravel road, but when she slips over the loose rocks and takes a minute to pull herself up, I sigh. Killian rolls his eyes when he realizes what I'm about to do, but he doesn't object as I grab her around the middle and toss her effortlessly over my shoulder. She doesn't fight me when I skate a hand under the dress and help myself to a handful of her ass, and by the time we make it back up the mountain, I'm fairly certain she's passed out. And if it had taken us a moment longer, she wouldn't be the only one. Monty looks like he's fighting for his life as he sways on his feet, exhaustion knocking him off balance.
When Killian throws the door open, Monty trudges in and collapses on the couch, unable to go any further. I'm tired, myself, and I've only been the giver. Monty's used to taking Killian and I in the same night, but we're usually never so insatiable as we are tonight, and I think Monty may have tapped the reserve a while ago. It works to my advantage when I fling Ivy over his lap, her bright hair spilling down his thighs as her head lolls to the side. I watch his hand come to her head, fingerstangling in her hair despite his closed eyes as I pull the mask over his head moments before my own and place a gentle kiss on his mouth. I adore him, much the way I always have.
When I retreat to the kitchen, following Killian, I drop my mask to the ground, letting it clatter between us as Killian does the same. His dark hair slips into his face and his eyes look haunted in a way I haven't seen before... a way that makes my gut twist.
"Now what?" I sigh, scrubbing a palm over my face as I look to Killian for answers.
She's never fought us, never resisted. Sure, I figured that killing her husband could maybe upset her for a minute but given that he was an absolute piece of shit, I doubt all of her fight is coming from that decision. The more likely truth is the one she gave us... that she thinks we betrayed her. And to be fair, she has a point. Even without the letters that I still don't know really exist, she's right that we didn't come for her.
When we watched her in the back of the car, leaving us for the last time, we should have known something was wrong. Ididknow something was wrong, deep down. I just didn't realize what it was... or how bad it was. As wicked as we were to her, and as violent as Killian can get when the need strikes, we grew up sheltered by our love for one another. I knew from the first time I saw her that she was just like me... a disgrace in the eyes of her family. She hid the abuse well, staying inside her own prison for weeks at a time as bruises likely faded, but I knew it was there all along. Deep down, in a part of me I refused to let out, I knew she was the bane of her parent's existence, just the way I was mine. I ignored it because it's what I wanted Monty and Killian to do for me, to pretend they didn't notice the shiner when I put myself between my mother and father after he returned from a bender. I wanted them to pretend not to notice when I missedschool because I couldn't explain another broken arm. And they did, for me.
But what never occurred to me was that Ivy may have been one of us, but she was also different... softer. I didn't need them to acknowledge my bruises because I didn't want anyone to protect me. But Ivy needed someone, and where were we?
We were just kids, at first, growing up and ignoring the fucked-up world around us. If we didn't think about it, it didn't exist. By the time we were old enough to know better than to turn a blind eye, the habit was too hard to quit.
All those years, we let them take her away from us. All those years, we stood by while they hurt her, ignored her, treated her like a thing that could be put away when they didn't want to deal with it any longer. To think that the man who made her afraid and uncomfortable in her own home came into ours and hurt her? It makes me sick with rage I can't muster, wishing I could change it, go back and fix the past.
