Page 15 of Beautiful Revenge

Sixteen Years Old…

Two yearsof planning has brought us to this moment. The moment I know we can’t hold off on any longer.

They’ve shown less and less interest in me as I’ve grown older, and as much as I’m thankful the sick bastards aren’t touching me anymore, Dylan has discovered that they’ve started looking elsewhere. I refuse to let that happen.

I refuse to allow them to hurt another girl like they have me. I may not have been their first, but I can sure as fuck make sure I’m their last. They’re going to regret ever being the vile creatures they are. I’m going to enjoy showing them the monster they’ve turned me into and using it to end them.

“Are you sure we should be doing this tonight?” Dylan asks as we sit in the woods outside of my house.

“Yes, Dyl. I’m positive,” I state, staring at the place that houses all of my pain and torment, amped to get this night started.

I’ve spent a good chunk of my life planning tonight out in great detail, thinking about every angle and aspect of what I would do to them, and now it’s time to see it through.

“You said it yourself, Dylan. They’ve started searching for another girl. Do you really want that knowledge on your conscience?” Devon asks him.

I can feel his eyes on me as he squeezes my hand in his, but I know he’s just worried about me. I’m about to unearth some of the most shattering of my memories as I curse them to an eternity in Hell. He’s worried I will crumble from the pain, but I won’t. I’ve let it forge me into who I am now.

I’m more worried about them hearing every confession, every detail about what they’ve done to me. Especially where my father is concerned. He’s where most of my hatred and revenge lie. The others will die quickly and without remorse, but daddy dearest’s death will be long and painful, just like the years of suffering he brought on me.

“No. No, I really don’t,” Dylan admits, sounding pained.

I turn to look at him, showing him the love I feel for them and only them. “You don’t have to go in there if—”

He holds his hand up, cutting me off. “No, Brie. I’m going in there because these fuckers deserve what’s coming. I’m not going to be the one left out and not supporting you. I love you way too much to not be here for you, baby.”

I smile, and he leans forward to kiss me stupid. His tongue sweeps along my lower lip, and I eagerly let him in and kiss him back with the heat and desire I’ve come to love with them.

We play around and make-out often, and oral has become a regular occurrence between the three of us. They love pleasuring me, and I love to pleasure them in that way. There have been so many times I wanted to give in and have sex with them, but I can’t bring myself to do it while I still view myself as tainted.

When I finally give myself to them, I want to know they’ll be the last ones to ever touch me.

I moan into his mouth, reaching my hands up to grip his hair, and he groans, biting my lip before pulling away and leaving me panting. “Trust me,” he whispers, and I nod.

“More than anything,” I whisper back.

“Our girl is hungry, Dyl. What should be do about it?” Devon taunts, and I swallow down the lust thrumming through me.

Dylan smirks at me, the hunger clear in his eyes. “I think she’s too hot and bothered to possibly focus on killing.”

I glare at him, just a little, because fuck that. I could kill these assholes even if I was bleeding to death, but I’d never say no to an orgasm or two first.

“Oh, princess didn’t like that,” Devon teases, and I will myself to calm down. “What do you say, princess? Would you like me to finger fuck you while Dylan kisses you senseless?” he purrs, and fuck him. Yes, yes, I fucking would.

“Please,” I huff out, trying to come across as annoyed rather than a simpering idiot, but I’m really wound up.

The prospect of killing my enemies off and burning this piece of hell to the ground has my entire body on edge.

“Please what, Brie?” Dylan leans over to purr into my ear.

“Please make me feel good,” I whisper, tossing my head back against the seat.

“Anything for you, princess,” Dyl says, taking Devon’s nickname for me. It’s one they’ve both adopted over the years, but Dylan only seems to use it when he’s trying to lavish me with orgasms. I’m not mad about it.

Dylan pulls me into his chest while Devon slides closer, pinning me in the middle between them. It’s my favourite place to be.

“Our girl is flushed, Dylan,” he says when his hand travels across my stomach, making me jump. “I think she’s really worked up this time.”

Dylan moans, kissing my neck from the other side as his fingers move to the button on my jeans. “She’s definitely worked up. I wonder if she’ll be this on edge when we take her later?” he mumbles, and Devon freezes against me for a split second before swatting his brother’s hands away from my jeans, replacing them with his own.

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