Page 103 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Her.

“Is she wet?” I murmur, a hand going to the waistband of my camo pants.

There’s a hush, just a heartbeat long, where everyone’s eyes are on me. Shocked, incredulous, expectant.

Nim’s scandalized gasp breaks it.

Silas lets out a dark chuckle. “A little.”

I slide a hand between her legs to feel for myself. I wasn’t expecting Silas to pull her underwear aside for me, exposing her cunt so it’s the first thing I touch. It sends a sinful thrill through me when I touch her slick folds.

Her eyes slam shut, lips starting to tremble as she whispers, “No, please.” Her struggles are futile—Mason just has to tighten the grip around her arms and there’s nowhere for her to go.

I stroke her pussy, my dick hardening even more at how smooth and soft she is. But Silas is right—she needs to be wetter than this.

“Are you scared of us, love?”

Nim’s eyes fly open, like she’s more offended that I’m not calling her by name than the fact I have my hand up her fucking skirt.

She spits in my face, and then tries to knee me in the groin.

“That’s not how this works,” Mason rumbles, shifting his grip so he only needs one hand to hold onto her. “If my friend wants to fuck you, then you’ll open your fucking legs and get wet for him.” Her skirt hikes up as he shoves his hand between her legs from behind.

The fury on her face dissolves into shock, then confusion as Mason starts fingering her. It’s obvious it’s working—his hand starts making a wet smacking sound when he slams it up into her. “Mmm…you like that, don’t you?” he murmurs into her ear. “Them watching while I finger you? How about we give them a proper show?” He kicks her legs open even wider, and Silas lets out a tight groan.

Christ, my cock is so hard it’s starting to hurt. All I can think about is ending my suffering. Maybe even turning the fear in Nim’s pretty eyes into something else.

But when I shove a hand inside my pants and grab my dick, about to take it out, Nim turns feral.

With a strangled scream, she whips her head back. It connects with the bridge of Mason’s nose, and I hear it snap. Twisting, she manages to tear one of her arms free, and sends a fist flying toward my stomach.

I barely manage to step back in time, and instead she punches Silas in the kidney. It was pure luck, but it downs him like a felled tree. I make a grab for her, but she twists away from me at the last second and my fingers clutch air.

Growling, I grab the machete from Silas’s unresisting grip as he tries to get his feet under him, turn, and send the blade flying through the air.

She skids to a halt when it embeds itself in a tree trunk inches from her face. Sending me a glare over her shoulder, she ducks and races away.

Triesto, anyway.

Silas and I watch, Silas with a bleak scowl on his face as he fingers his tender kidney.

A second later, Mason tackles her from behind. I hear her muffled, “Again?” as she’s pinned face-first to the ground.

She wasn’t fucking scared. She was toying with us. Because we were feeling her up instead ofhurtingher.

Yanking the machete out of the tree as I pass, I crouch beside her and Mason. He puts a hand up her skirt and tears off her underwear, leaving angry red lines behind on her thighs.

Pinned like she is, she’s in the perfect position.

“Show me every inch of that ass,” I tell Mason.

He yanks her skirt up to her hips, despite how she struggles. Silas joins us a second later, but he hangs back with that same scowl on his face.

I raise my hand and bring it down on her plump cheek. She yelps, goes rigid, and then starts struggling even more.

I slap her again, captivated by the bright red handprint that shows up on her skin, with how her round cheeks jiggle. No one’s ever let me do this to them. I never knew it could feel so fuckinggood.

She lets out a strange half pant half grunt, and Mason grabs each cheek in a massive hand and squeezes her. “Yeah, baby girl likes that.”

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