Page 55 of SummerTime Madness
A ‘No.’
Firm and unyielding.
Picking up a discarded rifle, I move towards the woman who closes in from behind her. I raise it above her head before crashing it back down, causing her to collapse, but not before hitting the trigger, and taking two others with her.
“The Queen,” the voice hisses. “Protect the Queen.”
Click. Click. Click.
The sounds multiply by the hundreds.
Gunshots and chaos erupt from everywhere.
The sounds of flesh tearing.
More screams.
Wet tearing noises from their insides.
Groans mixed with laughter.
Click. Click. Click.
More gunshots.
I see the same guards that checked us on the first day corner Cordelia and Chase. Then suddenly, the same group of friends from the festival jump on the guards, like koalas climbing onto their backs. The women continue to click as they begin to part the guards’ flesh, blood spraying everywhere. Through the chaos, the music continues to play, the hive still continuing their madness, still keeping true to her wishes.
We all feel them…
We are all her…
Ecstasy blends with adrenaline… heart pumping as the beat from “Latch” by Disclosure and Sam Smith wraps around us like rope. We spread like a song–quick and vibing. From inside I feel a tug–a calling.
Cordelia.
“Tate,” she breathes–then she’s in my arms, all heat and urgency, and legs locking around my waist like she was always meant to be there. Chase flanks us, body taut, eyes scanning the shadows, protective even now.
But Cordelia–only sees me.
“Mine,” she growls, crashing her mouth into mine. Her tongue sweeps deep, claiming and devouring. She rolls her hips against me, desperate and unashamed, and chasing friction like it’s all air. I guide her lower, palms gripping her thighs, angling her towards the only thing she’s ever craved—
The stage.
A Queen, ready to ascend.
To watch her kingdom burn and bloom.
The music shifts–erratic, frenzied. “Kerosene” by Crystal Castle howls through the speakers. The beat is broken glass and heartbeat thunder.
And she rides it like a god.
Cordelia's grip tightens, legs clenching as I carry her up the stage stairs. Behind us, Chase follows–silent, burning, ready. The speakers moan and twist out noises. “Kerosene,” shreds through the night like static-fed lust.
We reach the top.
The pink, green, and gold lights spiral just as the foam cannons go up. The hive howls beneath us. Cordelia turns in my arms, pulling Chase forward with a look that could melt steel. Her mouth crashes into his, their tongues moving against each other–all teeth and tongue and fury.
While her hips grind against me, every roll of her body stokes the fire beneath my skin. My cock aches, swollen with need, and trapped between us as she devours his mouth and teases me with friction. Chase moans into her, then leans in, his handcradling the back of my neck before he pulls me into him.
