Page 53 of Heirs of Havoc

“Shut up and thank them, Merlo.” He points that gun at me and it only makes me stroke Lev faster. “Thank them for saving your slutty ass. Thank them for not killing you. Thank them for giving you the cock you so badly want.” His words egg me on, Lev’s entire body stilling before I pull out. Pumping their shafts between me, it takes only a minute for warm cum to shoot out on my chest. “Stick your fucking tongue out,” Dom demands. And I do. That makes Vlad come, his hand gripping to my head as his legs quake. Bitter-sweetness lands on my tongue from both ends, coating my piercing with warm liquid.

“Hoooly fuck,” Lev reaches behind him to balance against the counter. “I—fuck.”

A tea towel comes flying at my chest, hitting splotches of jizz as I pant, staring at Dom. He smirks. “Come on fellas, let’s let this dirty vermin clean herself up.”

Vlad glances down at me, pushing my hair from my face, and before Lev walks away, he bends over to kiss my head.

Dom snaps, “We got shit to do, Reznikovs!”

“What about my steak?” Vlad looks behind him as he moves towards Dom.

Dom scoffs, “You already got a hell of a meal.”

* * *

“Mia?”

A soft voice awakens me, cold tile underneath my naked body.

Blinking, I look around the room.

I’m still in the kitchen, spices and steak in the air. But the room is darker, the moonlight peeking through the windows.

My curls fall in front of my head when I blink, pushing myself off the ground. Did they leave me here? I must have been so tired I curled up and passed out.

The only thing I thought about while I slept was Vlad and Lev’s twin cocks. In my dream, Dom’s eyes hovered over me like a God, that smirk on his face while I took the onslaught of Vlad and Lev in my mouth repeatedly.

“Mia?” the voice calls again.

When I look up, Feliks looks at me with narrow eyes, a white hoodie on and his guitar in his hand.

It’s hard to stand, my body exhausted. “S-sorry.” My palm comes to my eye, trying to wipe my afternoon out of my head. It takes a moment to realize I’m still naked, but I’m in too much of a daze to care. “I’ll just—”

“You alright?”

“Do you care?”

A sigh comes from his direction and as I struggle to push myself off the floor, Feliks’ arms come around me. The smell of pot comes with him as he helps me up. “Come on, Bunny."

Chapter Twenty

“You coming?”

“I-I don’t want to go back to the cellar.” Once I’m on my feet, I pull back from Feliks’ hold. “I’ll find a couch or something I’ll—”

Laughter comes from the living room, loud and devilish. Dom’s.

My body stills.

He just … left me here.

Feliks brings his finger to his lips. “Shh.” As he takes my hand, his warm long fingers interlace with mine, leading me towards the stairs. I’ve never been upstairs in this place, unsure of what the rest of the Murphy House even looks like. Once at the top, we pass gold-framed paintings on the wall. Surrealist images from Dali and Tanguy. Being in this house makes them look much more horrifying than I'm used to.

My sneakers scrunch against the pristine wooden floor, my reflection shining off it. I see no housekeepers, but how can I when I’m locked in a cellar? There isn’t a speck of dust in sight. None on the gold fixtures hanging off the wainscot wall. None on the small hall windows or the golden door handles.

Feliks enters a room towards the end of the hall, the smell of pot wafting over me. There’s no doubt it’s his, the collection of guitars on the wall gives it away. So does the rack of skateboards. Colourful paintings lean against the stone-grey wall, some graffiti canvases, all with unique signatures.

When he closes the door, he finally lets go of my hand. He tilts his head to the bed at the back of the spacious room, littered with empty bottles and takeout wrappers. Feliks abuses most things. Alcohol. Drugs.

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