Page 90 of Hymns of the Broken
“That’s right.” His hand comes down hard across my ass again, making me jerk, to prove his point.
“I’m the one whoownsyou, Sawyer. Say it.”
“You—I’m yours—Jasper, please.” My voice is a whimper, nothing but truth and wreckage.
My body explodes, orgasm tearing through me—violent, consuming, white-hot. I cry out into the pillow, body clenching and shaking as Jasper fucks me through it, harder, deeper, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.
And then he loses it—his grip a brand on my hips, his breath a snarl in my ear. With one last brutal thrust, he buries himself deep, coming with a feral sound that rips straight through me.
We collapse together, a mess of sweat and trembling limbs, his weight crushing me into the mattress. His chest heaves against my back, every inch of me owned, bruised, wrecked—and so fucking alive.
Jasper breathes hard, still inside me, his hand tangled in my hair like he doesn’t want to let go.
“You break me every time,” I whisper into the sheets.
He leans down, mouth at the curve of my neck, and murmurs, “Good. Maybe you’ll finally remember who you belong to.”
RIOT
I shouldn’t be here.
I know that.
I knew that when I snuck off from the guys, slipped into the shadows by their bus like a fucking ghost. The night air is cold, biting against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the burn in my chest.
But I need to see her.
Or maybe I just wanted to know if she was still thinking about me.
What I didn’t expect… was to hear it.
The walls on this bus aren’t thick enough for what Jasper’s doing to her.
Or for the words spilling from his mouth like poison-dipped promises:
“Still want both of us?”
“Still wish he was in front of you so you could choke on his cock while I punish this pretty pussy for it?”
I clench my jaw, every muscle tight, as I press closer to the side of the bus—watching the glow of the cabin light spill through the window, just barely illuminating the outline of Sawyer’s silhouette. My hand’s already freeing my cock before I even realize it.
I’ve been rock hard since that haunted house.
Since she kissed me back.
She pulled me in, as if she needed me to devour her.
And now she’s being wrecked—face-down, fucked full, punished for wantingme.
I work my cock as I groan low, teeth clenched so hard it hurts. My breath fogs the metal on the side of the bus, each exhale rough, ragged. Every sound she makes pushes me closer to the edge.
Because Jasper’s not wrong.
She wants us both.
And the second I hear her whimper“yes”, I nearly fucking lose it.
Her voice, desperate and needy, vibrated through the glass, through my bones. God, I want to make her say my name—scream it.
