Page 80 of Eden's Deliverance

Casanova pulled his knife on me and made me get on Broody’s lap so he could fuck me. But that wasn’t enough for the chaos twins. They wanted to fuck me at the same time. And truth be told, I don’t know if I would have wanted it any other way.

I’m surprised my hand hasn’t started to blister with how furiously I’ve been stripping my cock, using only spit as lubricant.

The next few paragraphs recount what happened when we fucked her; the way Skylar bit into her shoulder as we destroyed her fucking pussy, how hot she got when I sucked his dick to get him nice and wet for her, and how life-changing her orgasm was when I licked her clit while he was fucking her.

It’s the last part of the entry I’ve been wondering about the most.

They used my orgasm to their advantage and tied me up when I was fucked out of my mind. Casanova brought out his knife again and climbed on top of me so I couldn’t move. I didn’t have a fight left in me, anyway. It was always going to happen. So, I didn’t say anything when he told me what he was going to do, I just kept trying to believe that he was right, and I might like it.

And fuck me…because I did.

Casanova cut me, and then the two of them licked the blood from my wound like a bunch of crazy, horned-out vampires fighting over a meal. And I fucking loved it.

At first, I thought it was just the fact that they were kissing. When they did it in the woods after Eden’s Halloween party, there was no denying how much it excited me. But I don’t think that’s all it was. Not only did they kiss each other…but they kissed me. They kissed me with my own blood staining their lips…and suddenly, I became a part of the depravity. I was just as sick in the head as they were.

I let them use and abuse me, and I ate up every goddamn second of it. I sucked Broody’s dick like a fucking pro while Casanova cut my thigh and licked my clit. I didn’t fight. I rode his face until I saw stars. I swallowed Broody’s cum, savoring every drop. I let Casanova come inside me and basked in my afterglow as he stuffed me full of every ounce that dripped out when he pulled away.

I burst like a fucking dam, grunting through the final strokes of my orgasm as I coat the pages of her diary with thick streams of cum. Tossing my head back with an audible groan, I bask in the afterglow until…

“Tell me you didn’t just fucking—” I quickly hang up my earpiece before he can finish.

Oops.I really keep forgetting he’s here.

Then, I ran. I ran because I’m the only one who’s supposed to know about what I do and don’t like. I ran because there’s no way in hell Cunnilingus Casanova gets to tell me what I’ll enjoy or not…even if he turns out to be right. I ran because if that’s the kind of thing that gets me off…I’m afraid of it. I’m afraid of getting lost in something I can’t be in full control of. I’m cold. I’m calculated. I always have a plan. I don’t do well with losing control.

When I think about what those menare…it scares the shit out of me. They’re everything I’m not. They’re chaotic. They’re shameless. They’re dissolute. They’re way more than I can handle right now…maybe ever. I need to forget them and focus on the things in my life that are actually stable and within my power to decide the outcome of. I’ll focus on the apprenticeship. I’ll focus on school. I’ll focus on surviving as I am, because I’m not ready to become somebody new.

She’s a coward. The little slut fucking loved every minute of what we did to her, but she’s going to pussy out because being with us might alter her perfect little life? That’s bullshit. Life is too short. If she thought she enjoyed bringing out the monster in me…let’s see how she likes when I do it to her.

Tucking my dick away, I stand from the bed and correct myself before putting the diary back where I found it—jizzy pages and all.

Let her find it. I want her to know thatIknow just how much she wants me. If she wanted me to come back so badly, all she had to do was ask. I’ll give my good girl exactly what she needs.

I always do, don’t I?

30

Scarlett

I have this feeling.

I don’t get them as often as I used to, especially not with how well things have been going lately. But there’s this feeling. I’ve been waiting weeks for the other shoe to drop, but it’s been too quiet. I know Broody and Casanova snuck into my room again, I just don’t know when.

Two weeks ago—during a particularly devious horn-dog episode—I flipped back through my diary for a specific entry, but I found something else. Somebody blew their load all over the fucking page, rendering it completely unreadable and unusable for my masturbation sesh. I had to buy a new diary and everything because the pages were stuck together.

Plus, it’s fucking gross.

They’re nothing if not thorough, so I expected to hear something about how fucked I am for thinking about them, yet continuing to avoid them. But…there’s been nothing. No texts. No midnight visits. No maskless ambushes at the bar to follow Dario’s footsteps.

They want me tothinkthey give a shit—but they don’t.

Glancing at Penelope on the other end of the couch, I see that she’s nose-deep in her phone, which means she’s not watching the new movie I paid moneyfor us to watch. She doesn’t even look up when I toss a piece of popcorn at her. She’s tapping away on the screen like her life depends on it, and I thought it was funny at first, but now I’m kind of annoyed.

“Hello?! Pen, what’s up? We only have a few hours left on this rental, or else we have to buy it again,” I scold, and she finally looks at me. There’s something wrong with her eyes; they’re glazed and glassy, like she’s about to cry. “What’s wrong, is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Go ahead and start it over. Sorry.” She laughs nervously, but I’m not buying it. I have a smartphone, so I’m not ignorant of the fact she’s deleting a text thread—quickly enough that I don’t have time to lean over and see who it’s from.

I pause the movie and adjust my ass on the couch until I’m facing her. Looking directly in her eyes, I ask, “Who was that?” She’s doing everything in her power to avoid making eye contact with me, but I persist. “Penelope, tell me what’s going on.”

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