Page 16 of Princes of Carnage

Eventually, he slides out of me, leaving me empty and boneless. As he lets me go, I slump to the floor in a heap, nearly passed out in the aftermath. I feel exhausted, like it would take too much effort to even raise my head to look at Phantom, but at the same time, the burning need is gone, leaving only a warm satisfaction behind.

Phantom slaps my ass hard, and I whimper as that sends more aftershocks of pleasure skittering through me. He drags his hand down my ass and presses two fingers into my pussy, fingering me roughly.

For a second, my body fights between the conflicting urges of spreading my legs for more and squirming away from his touch. With how sensitive I am right now, the feeling is almost too much, and I shudder a little.

“So fucking pretty. The only thing better than seeing you this fucked out would be seeing my cum dripping out of your ruined pussy,” Phantom says, his voice low and sensual even now.

The thought of that makes me shiver, the image making heat pool in my belly. I can only imagine what my pussy looks like right now, pink and sore and fucked open. And the image of his cum dripping out of me, the proof that he’s fucked me—claimed me—makes me want him all over again.

He presses his fingers in deeper, adding a third one with ease.

“You like that,” he says, and it’s not a question.

I really fucking do, and I moan in answer, writhing on the floor as he fucks me with his fingers.

He doesn’t go as hard as he did before, but it’s still enough to have me panting and trying to squirm away.

But Phantom grabs me with his free hand, keeping me in place. “Is it too much?” he asks. “Use your safe word.”

I shake my head. I’m not so far gone that I’ve forgotten what the word is, but I still don’t want to say it.

He nods, his eyes glinting behind the mask. “Then you’re going to come again for me.”

“I can’t,” I gasp. “I can’t—I can’t take it.”

“You can.”

It’s as simple as that. Two words that leave no room for argument.

I whimper, my body riding the razor sharp line between pain and pleasure, my head spinning with it. It’s so much, too much, but I refuse to say my safe word and make this stop.

Because I never want it to stop.

“Come for me,” Phantom orders sharply. “Come on my fingers, siren.”

It’s like my body is somehow attuned to his commands after everything he’s done to me, because that’s enough to have pure sensation burning through me all over again. I open my mouth on a gasp and then do what he says, my body shuddering and shaking as a final orgasm courses through me.

This one is more intense than all the others, my body throbbing with exhaustion as well as pleasure, and in the aftermath of that one… I truly do pass out.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I wake up.

I don’t remember getting on the bed, but I’m lying on the soft sheets, and when I look around the room, I’m alone. Phantom must have put me here after I passed out.

I shift, and my body protests the movement. Judging from the feeling of cool salve on my ass, Phantom also did some aftercare before he left, applying something to soothe the sting from spanking me so hard.

I feel wrecked, sore all over. But that satisfaction is still there. For the first time in a long while, I’m completely sated, calm, and clearheaded.

It’s easy to grin as I sit up and stretch, wincing a bit at the pain. But it’s a bit like poking a bruise, a little addictive and hard to describe. It feels… good. This was exactly what I needed.

Carefully, I get off the bed and move to get dressed. There’s a bottle of water on the nightstand, and I chug it greedily. Clearly, I was fucking thirsty.

It’s nice to have this as an outlet. To have somewhere I can go to come undone and clear my head. Nothing works the same as this when it comes to focusing my mind and leaving me feeling unburdened.

But at the same time, I have to wonder—or worry, really—if this is becoming a crutch, this need to come here and get fucked roughly and violently by a man I don’t even know. I hope it’s not. Because it’s so simple. So much simpler than that ill-advised kiss with Emmett, because that only complicates things. Phantom is just a man who wants this as much as I do. He’s not affiliated with my gang or that world, and coming here to do these things with him helps keep me centered and focused. It makes me a better leader.

I suck in a deep breath, glance around to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything, and then finally leave the club, making my way past the mass of bodies still grinding on the dance floor.

The fresh air outside cools my heated skin, and I grab a change of clothes from my trunk and shimmy into them in the back seat of my car, making sure that the long sleeves and well-worn jeans cover all of the marks Phantom left on me. Then I pull my hair back into a loose ponytail and drive back to the tattoo parlor, feeling so much better than I did when I left it.

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