Page 45 of The Devils of Saint City

Too fucking slowly to get off from it. “Come on,” I whimper, rocking down on his fingers. “You want me to fucking behave, then earn it. Make me want to.”

It’s the wrong thing to say and I know it, but it doesn’t register until the damage is done.

Asher immediately pulls his fingers out and stands up. “Had to ruin it with your fucking attitude. Fuck.”

He storms away as Manson slumps back onto his ass and tries to catch his breath. “Damn, girl. You okay?”

He presses down on his rock hard cock, giving me one last hope. “No, I’m as desperate as you are. Fuck me, Manson. Please.”

“Suck me first, baby. Come on, I’m so fucking hard.”

No guy would take a halfhearted blowjob over a soaking wet, desperate pussy he doesn’t have to wear a condom inside of.

He doesn’t intend to fuck me either.

Deflating, I’m forced to admit to myself that I don’t have a leg up on them like I thought. They know exactly what I want, exactly what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, and they’re not going to let me.

Then fine. They can fucking force me. “No.”

“Come on,” he encourages, reaching out to touch Asher’s cum as it drips out. “Don’t be like that.”

“Sorry, I have work to do.” Squirming away, I push myself back to my feet and head to the kitchen to wash my hands. I’m disappointed and annoyed, at myself and at them — yeah, I might’ve ruined it with my attitude, but they talk a big gameabout how this could be fun for all of us and how they like it when I’m willing. In reality, they don’t give a fuck either way as long as they get off.

With a heavy sigh I could give two fucks about, Manson gets off the living room floor and plops back on the couch to drink his cold coffee.

I feel Asher’s cum drip down my thighs and get angry all over again that I’m living in a house full of assholes and empty promises.

I get cleaned up and dressed, then make my way back to the kitchen to start cooking breakfast.

Something tells me I’m in for a long day.

18

Breakfast is an awkward endeavor that takes so long to end, I’m actually grateful when I find myself in the kitchen doing the dishes. The boys are on the couch muttering between themselves, and while I know that spells trouble for me, I don’t think I really care.

They don’t keep me waiting long. They cage me in the kitchen and start closing the distance the moment I finish drying off. “Breakfast was good,” Asher compliments.

Manson echoes, “Very good,” and I think I feel all the heat in my body head south.

Shit.

“Thanks. Happy to serve.” Not.

“Sure you are,” my infuriating green eyed captor replies. “I hear Manson didn’t get any love this morning though... I thought he was your favorite.”

There’s hardly any distance between us now, not that I think distance would save me. “Is that what this is about? You want me to blow him? I gotta warn you, I’m in a bitey mood.”

“Don’t threaten him with a good time,” he jokes, reaching over to stroke Manson through his pants. “We decided to take the day off today.”

I try not to squirm as I watch him. “You don’t need to take the day off, I’ll be fine here on my own.”

“We know,” Manson responds, rolling into Asher’s hand. “You want to watch your step-brother suck me off?”

No. Yes.

Fuck yes.

My eyes drop and I know my expression is giving me away, but I don’t care. I’ve never seen Asher do anything so... vulnerable before. “Why would I care about that?”

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