Page 13 of The Hallows Boys

KAIDEN

Ifist my cock – hard – the burning water raining down over me from my showerhead as I bend my head forward.

I want to hurt her.

I want to wrap my hand so tight around her throat that she gasps for air, squeezing hard enough that she claws at me for release, arches her back so viciously as she tries to get away from me that her tits stand at full attention in the air. I want to listen to her whine pathetically as death creeps into her veins, black spots taking over her vision as she loses more and more oxygen.

Just as she’s about to pass out, I’ll let go, giving her the gift of oxygen. She’ll swallow down air so greedily that I’ll be able to see the molars in the back of her mouth.

I grip my fist tight, giving myself an ounce of pain with my pleasure as I drag my hand up and down my shaft slowly. I imagine it’s her, her little hand with perfectly manicured nails, sliding over my velvet flesh while she breathes heavily with the pleasure of getting me off. I imagine it’s her mouth, wet and hot, suctioned so tight against my dick because she’s desperate for it, like she can’t get enough of me. Like she wants to swallow me whole, consume my cock in its entirety because she’sstarvedfor it.

My hand speeds up when I think of her eyes – deep, chocolate brown and so fucking innocent, so perfectly done up with makeup, her lashes fanning across her cheeks like little spider webs. My balls pull up when I imagine her perfect and composed exterior all messed up. Black smeared down her cheeks as her eyes cry tears from pleasure and pain, lipstick smeared across her mouth from my hand covering her screams.

I throw my head back, a groan vibrating through me.

Her skin, sparkling with sweat, saliva, and tears, marred with welts and bruises from my hands, from my belt.

She’ll tremble as she watches me, so desperate that she’ll whine and beg for her release while I keep her right at the edge of her orgasm, not letting her fall over the crest of it until I’m fucking ready.

My climax rips through me as I imagine her begging, her voice dragging along her dry throat like a knife. Her moans and pleas for me, for my cock, for my pleasure and her own. Ropes of cum shoot from my dick onto the wall and my fist, her name falling from my lips the entire time I’m over the edge.

“Sage, Sage, Sage.”

ChapterEight

BECKHAM

My Air Force Ones crunch with every step I take. Fallen leaves, twigs, and dry earth coat the grassy surface of the cemetery. It’s just cold enough outside that every breath I take is like little razor blades hitting me in the lungs, but the Hallows Games are right around the corner and I need to make sure everything is in place.

It's so dark tonight that I can’t even see my shadow because of the cloud cover, only the reflection of the moon bouncing off the headstones is visible. I let my other senses guide me through the graveyard. I’ve been here enough that I can maneuver around well enough without the use of my eyes. That’s what the games rely on anyways – the other senses.

I’m light on my feet as I make my way across the grounds, finding the Hallows Crypt just as Vinny and I left it last week – locked and closed.

I pull one of the three keys in existence from my pocket, slide it in the lock, and turn it until the heavy-duty chunk of metal falls free so I can pull open the old, solid door.

It’s pitch-black in the Hallows Crypt, but I know unlit candles line the walls, ready to be used at the end of the games. I pull my phone from my pocket, turning on the flashlight to illuminate the room so I can see what I’m doing.

Tracing along the walls with the light first, I make sure everything is in its correct spot since everything has been carefully and meticulously placed around the room. The rules of The Games are covering one of the walls, carved into the stone for permanence. My eyes move along them, even though they are engraved in my soul like DNA.

THE HALLOWS GAMES, EST. 2000.

I read the words silently to myself, every line making my pulse pick up with excitement and anticipation.

I check the portraits that hang next to the rules next, large frames that hold our founding fathers – the first Hallows Boys and the creators of The Games. I straighten one that’s leaning too far to the right, my attention to detail making the small flaw stand out. Everything must be perfect, after all.

The last open wall has the names of every Hallows Boy since the founders, all carved into the stone to make them infinite, the bottom of the list reading: Kaiden Thorne, Vincent Donahue, and Beckham Bentley. We carved them into the wall when the keys were handed to us freshman year, by the previous generation of Hallows Boys, to mark a new era of the games.

A grin pulls up my lips as I read over my friends’ names sitting next to mine, the image of all three of us together running through my mind and setting a fire in my veins. Kai and Vin are more than family to me. The Games brought us closer than blood ever could – I would sacrifice myself for both of them.

My cock swells in my pants, twitching against the zipper of my jeans as I remember my boys last year. Kaiden yelling, controlling – the commander. Vincent sliding into me so hard and quick from behind, like he was punishing me with his dick. I came on the third pump of his hips, my cries echoing around the crypt and making everything vibrate.

Next to the boys’ names is a list of girls’ names, all carved into the stone in a list formation as well. All the girls that have been chosen to play The Hallows Games over the last twenty-two years. It’s the last part of the ritual on Halloween night – bring the girl into the crypt so she can carve her name into the wall with the knife that was used on her skin only moments before.

I ball my fists at my sides, desperation for the games running through me like acid, burning me and making me itch. I take a breath, willing my cock to soften so I can continue the job at hand. I turn, going for the dressers that line the wall next to the door. I start rifling through the drawers, fingering all the things I brought here last week – all the things we might need the night of. Masks, blindfolds, handcuffs, rope, tape, whips, gags, candles, lighters, knives. I close the drawer again when I’m satisfied and confident that we have everything well stocked.

Making my way back outside, I lock the crypt behind me and pull at the lock to make sure it’s secure. I head for the next crypt, using my key again to pop the lock off.

This crypt is bigger, made for more activity and movement. It houses a king-sized bed, couches, and various other places to lounge. The smell of the room sends me falling right back into my memories, pulling me deep into the fantasies we’re able to make a reality here.

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