Page 10 of Final Girls and F*ck Boys

I don’t even know what I wanted, really. I was surprised he heard me over my best friend’s moans and the roaring jeers of the crowd around us, but with barely a pause, Atley shoved my thong to the side and buried his face against my ass so he could lap at my clit. The sensation, decadent and filthy, caused me to jerk against Sawyer with a moan.

Thiswas what I needed.

What I craved.

To be touched, to be worshiped.

And for the man worshiping at the dripping fountain of my cunt to be Atley? Fuck. This was everything.

There was a commotion across the room, almost as if a scuffle broke out, but I ignored it, wholly focused on bringing Sawyer to completion and my own growing climax.

Sawyer tugged hard on my hair as I circled her clit with my tongue. The action made me look up at her over the soft curves of her tummy, and we locked eyes for a moment before her mouth dropped open in a silent scream as her head fell back. Her thighs, so soft and warm, crushed my ears as her whole body shook with her orgasm. She was making these littleanimalistic grunts with each wave that rolled through her, filthy, low-pitched keens from deep in her chest. They weren’t the fake shit you hear in porn, the whiny wails that got dudes going, but real sounds, the ones forced from you because the pleasure is so good, you can’t hold back.

When she finally stopped twitching, I gave her pussy one more full swipe with my tongue—dipping into her hole, scooping out her juices and swallowing them down—before finally allowing myself to really center on what Atley was doing.

While I had been focused on Sawyer, he had been toying with me, just teasing grazes of his tongue that drove me out of my mind. I rested my head against Sawyer’s pelvic bone, taking in the earthy, primal scent of her cunt as I rotated my hips against Atley’s languidly questing tongue. Sighs of pleasure escaped me, ghosting against Sawyer’s skin and pluming back so I felt the heat of my breath on my own cheeks.

Suddenly, Sawyer was moving, jostling my head, and I grunted at her in displeasure before I realized it was Camber’s doing—he was gently moving her out of the way, covering her with a coat and handing her off to another man to be cared for with soothing words. Then, he was kneeling before me, his clean and iron-straight slacks pressing against the cunt-cream-sticky floor. Large, warm hands cradled my chin on either side, forcing my head up at such an uncomfortable angle that I had to move up on my hands, which dislodged Atley from my pussy.

Pressed so close, he smelled warm, like dusky leather and woodsy vetiver. My chin rested on his rigid abdomen as I stared up at him, the body-warmed buckle of his belt digging into my neck every time I swallowed.

I felt like a sinner paying fealty to my god as I gazed up at him.

Camber stared down at me, eyes pitch dark and so deep, I could fall into them. His dirty blond locks fell over his foreheadin an enticing swoop, giving him a disheveled, devil-may-care appearance. Large palms swept back over my face and into my hair until he had my silver locks caught in a ponytail between his fingers. With a deft maneuver, he wrapped my hair in a twist around his wrist until he could use it as an anchor at the base of my skull.

“Watch,” came the murmured instruction from him. I felt the rumble of his deep voice vibrate his belly even as he forced me to turn my head. The material of his shirt caught on the sticky dampness of my mouth, and I’m sure I looked debauched as hell when my gaze caught on what Camber wanted me to see.

The party had devolved into mindless abandon. Couples were fucking in various stages of undress all around the room, but only one could hold my stare.

Chamberlain and the woman bouncing in his lap like she was riding a prized stallion.

He still wore his sweats, but they were pushed to his thighs, hindering how far he could spread his legs. His combat boots were planted firmly against the floor, giving him leverage to thrust back against the girl in slow, lazy rolls of his hips that looked effortless, but I knew from experience that they felt divine.

Her back was to his chest, her head on his shoulder as she moaned her pleasure to the ceiling, gripping her own tits as Chamberlain strummed her clit expertly with two fingers. Even in the dim light, I could see her juices glistening on the condom that covered his cock every time it reappeared from her cunt.

I knew exactly how good he felt.

We had taught each other everything there was to know about the other’s body. We spent balmy summer afternoons sweating and straining together out by the pool; spring mornings with me kneeling before him behind the oak tree outside our house; winter and fall evenings curled up before thefire, touching and gasping as we explored every inch of each other.

For a wild moment, jealousy flared within me.

And then came the feral need to make him feel the same way I did.

Logically, I knew he fucked women all the time. I had heard the whispered stories as I’d walked the halls of the school. But knowing and witnessing were two totally different things—and watching my brother’s cock disappear into another woman’s cunt made me violent.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, poisonous envy in my veins and venom on my tongue. “Fuck me, Atley. Fuck me.”

“Little saint…” I heard the groan in his voice, but hesitation was there too. I had always been untouchable to them, a line that shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t be crossed because of my brother.

But Atley had already eaten my cunt, had licked me up and down from clenching asshole to weeping pussy hole—what was one more barrier torn the fuck down?

I crawled my way up Camber’s torso, fingers fisting in his shirt. “Make him fuck me. Give him permission.” The words were whispered against the metal bars covering Camber’s lips, and I tasted the burn of nicotine on his breath. His chest was steady, breathing unbothered by the chorus of fucking around us and my pleading.

Always un-fucking-touchable.

I wanted to see him break, just once.

“Not right now,” Camber murmured back to me. One of his hands was still fisted in my hair while the other ghosted down my cheek, fingertips tracing my jawline before collaring my throat tight enough to be a threat. I swallowed, feeling the gulp push against his palm. My breathing quickened against his mouth.

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