Page 36 of Breaking Boston

"I fucking marked you. Get over it. It's Lux's turn now." I put the knife back down and pull out of her just as my cum spills out onto her back, dripping down her ass crack to her pussy, and then pooling on the sheet under her.

I stroke my cock faster, slapping the pierced tip along her pussy as I paint her with the rest of my cum. Feeling the rush inside me about to burst, I flip her back over and squeeze her lips shut, rubbing the rest of my release across them so they glisten, as if she's wearing lip gloss.

I collapse beside her and chuckle as she licks my cum off her lips and narrows her eyes into little slits at me, trying to be all big and bad.

"You had no right to cut me, Donovan!" You told me you wouldn't hurt me."

"Did I fucking hurt you? You weren't crying or begging me to stop, were you?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly. Stop fucking whining, Little Bird. You and I both know that you fucking loved it." I take in the way her tiny nose scrunches and the way her puffy lips curl when she smirks, acknowledging that I'm right.

"I wouldn't be complaining if I were you, Pretty Girl," Lux chimes in, taking over as I light a smoke. "I still have to take my turn."

Her eyes grow wild, the cum on her glistening under the gleam of the moon. She looks so fucking beautiful, drenched in it, and I can't wait to see the final masterpiece when Lux is finished.

LUX

I admire Boston in her natural form, naked and completely at my mercy.

Cum glistens all over her tanned skin, while blood drips down the curve of her ass. She's never looked more beautiful. But she will.

"Get up and dance for me, Pretty Girl," I demand, sitting on the couch in our room with my knife in one hand and my gun in the other.

Killing her parents put us both in a mood, and right now, I crave the chaos. Any way that I can own Boston, I will. Tonight, fuck what Remy says.

She gets off the bed, limping as she saunters over, running her hands through her long, dark hair. I'm mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the bounce of her breasts, and I sit here like a hungry animal, craving her taste on my tongue.

"Don't be afraid, Pretty Girl.

"I'm not afraid, Lux."

She starts to move to the rhythm of the music I've turned on, her body a beautiful sight to behold. I can see the fear in her eyes, and it only fuels my desire for power over her.

But as she dances, rolling her hips and grinding her ass against my cock, I realize that my need to control her is not enough. I want to break her, utterly and completely.

I grab her roughly, pressing my lips to hers, tasting the mix of sweat, fear, and desperation. Pushing my gun between her legs, I rub the barrel along her soaked slit, making her buck into the touch as she continues to dance.

Donovan watches in fascination, stroking his cock to Boston's movements. Her hands clasp around my shoulders and our eyes lock, a moment of something passing between us.

She lowers her mouth to mine and kisses me, opening her legs wider as I ease my gun into her pussy.

"Ride it, Boston. Be a good girl and ride my gun," I growl deeply in her ear, turned on by the rocking of her hips as she rides and sinks on my gun.

I thrust in and out of her as she rolls her body to the beat of the song, sliding up and down on my gun. The smell of cigarettes and sex consumes the tiny space around us, making my cock ache harder for her cunt. Her juices soak my gun. Her nails dig into my shoulders. Her body shakes, and I can tell she's about to come.

So I pull my gun out of her cunt and lay it beside us, slamming her down on my cock so she can come all over it.

"You come on my cock, Pretty Girl." I hold her hips and slam her down again, ripping a deep moan from her throat.

"Lu...Lux," she screams into my mouth as I swipe my tongue around hers, feeling her cunt grip my cock.

"Good girl. Come for me, Boston. Come for Donovan.Come for us." Our eyes lock again and she lets go, soaking my dick and my balls.

I pick up my knife again, and bring it in front of her face. This time, her eyes don't even widen. I put it against her throat and glide the dull edge down her chest, stopping just below her breast.

"Are you mine?" I ask, teasing her with the tip of my knife.

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