Page 31 of Hysteria Rises
Softly, he whispers, “Just here. See? Then do what I told you.” He pauses a second. “Like this.”
Confusion ripples along my nerves like a live wire, and my heart hammers as his fingers begin to move in swift, unrelenting circles over my clit. What the fuck? Ithrow my head back on a gasp, and, unable to stop them from doing so, my eyes fly open.
The riot of sensations flooding my body makes me squirm uncomfortably as I try my damnedest to get away… but I’m being held too securely, so the best I can do is remove myself from what’s happening. I squeeze my eyes shut. At my back, Cross’s heart rate has accelerated, and his breathing becomes ragged the longer he continues his torment of me.
I clench my jaw against the fire that has begun to race along every nerve ending in my body. Because I don’t want this. Don’t want any fucking part of it. I gasp aloud, thankful when he finally pulls his hand away. Breaths heave from my lips, and I shake my head, my throat dry.
But that relief is short-lived because Hayze slides his hand from my ankle and places it on my inner thigh, widening the space between my legs. My eyes flicker open. As if he’s in need of a better fucking view, he bends at the waist. His tattooed chest jerks with a hard exhale as he runs a knuckle through the wetness gathering at my entrance. And I wish it wouldn’t, but his unbidden touch elicits a shiver that raises goose bumps over every inch of skin. Fuck, it pisses me off that my body reacts.
Clenching my jaw, I glare at him as he continues to touch me, sweeping his fingers along my entrance, eyes fixated at the apex of my thighs, alight with something I can’t quite place.
“Here,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly as he looksover my head toward Cross at the same time the pads of his fingers brush over my clit.
I give a strangled grunt of annoyance, my eyes snapping to his. “Yes. That’s my clit. Get your fucking hands off me.”
But he doesn’t. He simply cocks his head to the side, his brow furrowing as he mimics the earlier tactics that’d been demonstrated by his apparent sex-ed tutor. He’s locked on me now, studying every subtle movement of my body, every goddamn twitch of my lips, every stuttered inhale of breath. I can’t fucking escape the blood rushing toward the point of contact or stop the sharp-edged throbs spearing my pussy.
I hate the rugged stubble on his jawline. Hate the wicked anticipation in those gorgeous-under-any-other-circumstances intense blue eyes. Hate every rise and fall of his chest as he holds me down. In this moment, I hate all of him. Soul-deep anger crashes through me with every inch closer that I slide toward oblivion.
I feel the impending orgasm on the horizon … and can’t do a damn thing about it. Pressing my lips together, I grit out, “Do you think this makes what you’re doing okay?”
Hayze looks at me, a curious look sweeping over his features. Gears are turning in this one’s head, though. I don’t think he knows what the fuck he’s doing, but he’s working on it.
A moment later, a gasped moan is torn from me,and Cross quietly whispers over my head. “Look at her breasts. Keep going.”
I damn near draw blood as my teeth clamp down on my lip at his words. My gaze flicks down to my chest where my nipples protrude, aching.
He reaches down to cup my breast, flicking my nipple at the same time Hayze increases his pace. I squirm, heaving breaths gusting from between my lips. My face is hot, and I don’t have a chance in hell at suppressing the response coursing through me. Distraught yet completely awash in sensation, I twist in their hold, fighting back what I know is seconds from sweeping over me in a slow roll. Swallowing hard, one single word is torn from me. “Nooo.” I wrench my head to the side, staring at the wall.
“Get ready,” comes Cross’s low voice.
Hayze shifts between my legs, never stopping his deviant ministrations.
The orgasm crashes over me, and much like a wave, it takes me under. I’m tumbling in the sea, choking on a gasp and unable to breathe as my body surrenders. I let loose a garbled, anguished cry.This isn’t happening.
“Now, Hayze. Do it now.”
And a moment later, his cock invades my body. All at once, he’s so deep, thick enough to stretch me to the point where I can’t help but gasp and cry out. My internal muscles continue to spasm, gripping him tightly, even as I squeeze my eyes shut and sob out, “No.”
A muttered “Fuuuck” exits his lips, and he groans as he thrusts hard a few times before spilling inside me.
SEVENTEEN
ARROW
Since that nightwhen the Collective laid out for us that we’d be helping with Twenty-three, I’ve been down to see her at least once a day, if not more. All in the name of duty. Sort of. No, actually, that’s a lie. Checking on her is a convenient excuse. I’m only required to do it during one of the four shifts we’d established. But sometimes, I simply can’t help myself.
Every waking moment, I think of her. Of what she’s doing. What she’s feeling. And… my siren is unhappy. That’s a nice way of putting it. She’s not eating. Seems to be drinking the water we bring, though the last time I brought her some, she’d growled at me and asked if there was poison in it.
Poison. That’s the extent of what she’s said to me, too. The first thing she’s directed toward me in days.
I’ve been so fucking patient. Instead of speaking, she simply screams her displeasure or swears at us. Andonce, just once, I caught her crying. It’d torn my fucking heart out.
I shake my head as the memory of Twenty-three curled up in a ball and shaking flits through my mind. Drawing in a careful breath, I let the dank air of the cellar pantry infiltrate my nose and focus on pouring more of my father’s latest batch of cider into a cup. Voices drift from somewhere nearby, so I glance furtively over my shoulder. The women and children should be long asleep, but surely sometimes the children wake during the night. It’s probably just one of them, maybe even Summit or Bodhi. My brothers still are young enough that they cling to their mothers. Both are kind women, all in all. I don’t have much of a relationship with either one.
And that thought only brings me back to why I’m trying to fucking numb myself. With a harsh sigh, I rake a hand through my hair. I wish I could manage to sneak some more, but I’d better not, even though it’s the only thing that gets me through the night most times.
The potent drink slides down my throat with ease as I tip the glass up again, finishing every last fucking drop. The urge to pick up the bottle and down everything that’s left is overwhelming.
