Page 49 of Beg for It

I’m not sure when my obsession for Camden became something more than hate, but the idea of anyone touching him, hurting him, fucking breathing on him makes me want to put a bullet in their eye.

When we first met Camden, all we wanted was revenge. But something tells me the little beta isn’t as bad as we might have thought.

And maybe we like him. A little more than I’d like to admit.

It’s not that I don’t want to see him cry or cause him pain, but I’d rather it be by our hands. No one else's.

Preferably with my cock shoved down his throat as he struggles to breathe.

I’ve gone from wanting him off my campus to wanting him inside a cage, tied up with a pretty little bow for our pleasure. My emotions are very conflicted when it comes to the little beta.

After we get Bradley strapped to the chair, I go over and grab the smelling salts.

“Wakey wakey, fucker,” I growl, bringing the salts to his nose.

He grunts, gasping for air, eyes flying open.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” I say, squatting.

“Let me go,” he croaks out. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

I chuckle. “Big words from the man who’s currently at our mercy,” I say, cocking my head to the side.

River gabs a handful of his hair, yanking his head back. Bradley screams in pain. “Heard you felt the need to put your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you,” he asks, cocking his head to the side. On the outside, he looks calm. But on the inside I know it’s taking everything in him not to just slit his throat here and now.

“You mean the little twink?” he grunts. “I didn’t know he was yours.”

“Well, now you do,” I give him a sinister grin. “No one touches what’s ours and lives to see another day. You know that well, don’t you, Bradley?”

“Brooks,” he says in a warning tone and River shoves Bradley’s head forward.

“Don’t you fucking dare take that tone with us. You are not in charge here. Do you understand you won’t be leaving here tonight?”

Bradley laughs. “And you know that if anything happens to me, your whole family is dead.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I answer. “Wanna know why?”

“Why,” Bradley grinds out, humoring me.

“Because we have a lot of dirt on you,” I chuckle. “We’ve just been waiting to use it. You’ve been a naughty boy, Bradley. Have any skeletons of your own?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spits.

“When hookers go missing, no one really seems to care, right? Well, when five of them go missing within the span of a few months, people talk.”

His face goes pale.

“Oh yeah,” I chuckle. “Your backyard? Really? How fucking stupid can you be? My guess? Panic kills, right? Get off on giving a little asphyxiation do we? Snuff films aren’t good enough, so you need the real thing, huh? Does it make your cock hard to squeeze to the point that you end up killing them? Did you stop fucking them when they died? Or did you finish inside them?”

“You’re sick.”

“Me,” I point to myself. “I’m a lot of things, and maybe in some cases I am sick, maybe a little depraved, but we’re not on the same level, Bradley. So, any last words before we get this show on the road?”

He starts to scream profanities and I’m over it real fast. River gags him and I grab the tools we’re going to need.

“What do you want to do? Take his dick, or his hands?”

River takes a moment to think, staring at the man whose screams are muffled against the gag. “I take the left, you take the right and we just shoot him in the dick? Because if I’m being honest, I don’t wanna touch it, even with gloves,” he shudders then looks at Bradley. “As much as I like cock, I’d rather shove rusty forks in my knot and ball sack than even get a glimpse of yours. Sorry, rapists aren't my type.”

---