Page 80 of Bleed for Me

“What the fuck?” he growled. “Get out.”

“Good.” I smirked. “Your dick is already out. Makes things easier.”

His features twisted with confusion, but I didn’t give him time to process what I’d just said. Instead, I let the door close behind me and crossed his room in a few long strides. Once I reached his bedside, I pushed my panties down my legs and climbed on his bed and then threw one leg over him so I could straddle him.

“Fuck. What are you doing?” He breathed out, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Using you. Just like you used me.” I smirked, taking my hand to position him at my center. My fingertips slid over his piercings, and I slowly sank down until he was stretching me whole.

His lips parted, his head falling back onto the mattress. “That was a one-time thing,” he gritted out, trying to hide the pleasure from his face but failing miserably.

“Then throw me off,” I challenged, knowing he could stop this if he really wanted to.

Before he could even think about doing it, I started moving my hips, his piercings brushing against my walls, making me whimper in pleasure. My hands rested on his bare chest as I used him to drive my movements. He moved his hands to grip my waist in a painful grip, holding me down so that he remained deep inside of me.

“Just so you know,” I panted, lifting, just to drop back down. He groaned in response, giving me the power I needed to control this situation. “You weren’t my first choice.” I smirked. “Archer isn’t in his room.”

He moved a hand to slap it around my throat and squeezed, stealing the oxygen from my lungs. “Stay away from him you dirty little slut.”

“Make me,” I taunted.

He snarled, moving his hips to throw me off him, making my back hit the bed. He slipped out of me and released his hold on my neck, but before I could do anything, he grabbed me beneath my thighs and yanked me toward him. He crawled on top of me, hoisting my skirt even higher above my hips before propping my legs over his hips and then he drove into me again, making my back arch.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he panted breathlessly. “Why?”

I snorted in response. “Because the thought of fucking Archer turned me on.” It was a lie, but I wasn’t about to tell him the real reason.

Rage burned bright in his blue eyes, and he increased his pace while deepening his thrusts. A moan tore from my throat, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle it. He smirked triumphantly, like he had the power now and it pissed me off. I moved my hands, wrapping them around his throat and tightened my grip, stealing his breath as he had done to me. His eyes hooded, like he got off on it and this time, the moan came from him. Dropping his head, he smashed his mouth againstmine hungrily, forcing my arms to bend against my chest from where they were still gripping his neck. I loosened my hold, parting my lips to accept and allowed my tongue to graze his straight, white teeth. There was nothing intimate about this. It was primal, hungry, and sloppy.

When the sound of the door opening echoed through the room, we both froze. My eyes darted over in that direction, and Jordan’s eyes widened, his sketchbook clutched beneath his arm. Archer appeared behind him moments later, disbelief contorting his features, but I was so lost to the pleasure it didn’t matter.

When Seven realized it was just them, he started slamming into me again, more ruthlessly this time like he had something to prove—like he wanted Archer to see.

Jordan smirked, shaking his head before he moved to sit in the chair on the other side of the room, his eyes pinned on us.

Seven eased off of me, slowing his movements. “Might as well give them a show.” He smirked, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of my shirt before pulling it up over my head. I lifted my arms, letting the fabric slip from them and he tossed it on the floor. Next, he reached around me and unclasped my bra, doing the same thing.

“Fuck this,” Archer growled.

I expected him to storm out, but he was on the bed moments later at Seven’s side. He leaned down, capturing my lips with his, just as hungrily and demanding as Seven’s had been. I reached up, running my fingers through his dark hair. Seven started thrusting even harder, his piercings rubbing against my clit, making me cry out, the sound bleeding into Archer’s mouth who groaned in response.

“Get off my whore,” Seven grunted, his words holding no weight whatsoever.

Archer snorted, breaking the kiss before he dropped his hands to the button on his jeans where he sloppily worked it. His pants loosened around his hips, and he pushed them down his thighs, his hard erection straining against his boxers.

“Either let me inside her, or I’m fucking you while you fuck her,” Archer warned with a smirk, like he knew that Seven would relent.

Seven hesitated. “Fine. But one of you is sucking my dick.” He pulled out of me, the cold air drifting over my aching center. I’d never felt this needy before and it made me feel like a whore—just like Seven said I was.

Archer pushed his boxers down and took Seven’s place, his dark hair falling over his forehead. He eased into me, stretching me wider than Seven had. My lips parted at the unexpected stretch of his girth.

Turning my head, my eyes locked with Jordan’s, his lids hooded, and his eyes glazed with lust.

“Eyes on me,” Archer demanded as he seated himself. Slowly, I turned my head back to him, our eyes connecting again. “Good fucking girl.” His words did something to me, the praise sending heat spiraling through my body.

“Fuck me,” I pleaded, lifting my hips to gain more friction.

A smirk curled the corners of his mouth. “I like you desperate and needy like this.” He moved his hands to the inside of my thighs and pushed them wider apart before he began thrusting slowly. “You feel so damn good, Rosalie.”

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