Page 2 of Obsessed Kings

"You really expect us to believe that." Brock’s words aren’t a question. They’re a statement, one I’m not supposed to deny.

"You don't wear leggings like those to a party with the Sinners unless you’re asking for it." Colt’s eyes turn to slits.

Colt grabs my right hand and forces my fingers toward Rook’s cock. Rook slaps his meaty shaft in my hand, every inch detonating a bomb up my wrist. He grinds forward, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Stroke it, bitch." Rook’s voice is low and deadly. "Quit acting like you’ve never touched a man before."

I do as Rook says so he doesn’t punish me. My fingers rub up and down, shaking as they explore every inch of his shaft. My first time touching someone’s dick is nothing like I anticipated. Rook’s cock is so much bigger than anything I ever pictured. It’s grotesque, a vessel of pain, not pleasure. I imagine Rook spreading my legs and ramming his cock in my pussy, and my folds ache in agony. He’d spear me like an ancient Spartan warrior and leave me in a puddle of blood and cum. No doubt about it.

Colt brings his hands to my tits. He pinches my nipples over my sweater, then massages them when they grow hard. I try to turn away, but Brock pins me in place, preventing me from wriggling away from Colt’s touch. Colt doubles down, squeezing my left nipple viciously, before inflicting the same amount of pain on the right.

Brock brings his lips to my right ear. "Say thank you to the star quarterback."

"No." I won’t be their plaything. I refuse to go along with their sick game.

"That wasn’t a question, bitch. That was a demand."

In a second, Brock and Colt force me to my knees. I cry out as my kneecaps slam into the hardwood floors of the frat house, pain shooting up my waist. I rock back and forth, attempting to wriggle free, but I can’t.

Brock effortlessly pins my hands to my back with his left hand as he forces my head up with his right. My hair is tugged back, and it brings tears to my eyes.

Colt pistons his hips in front of my face. No remorse. No room for hesitation. "Unzip me with your teeth, slut."

"I’m not a slut. I’ve never laid eyes on a man’s erection before."

"Shut the fuck up while I’m speaking to you before I rip those leggings off and ram every inch of my cock into your whore pussy."

My teeth find Colt’s zipper and lock on it. I yank it down, my nose buried in his private parts. His hard, erect member throbs under the fabric, every inch a harbinger of the destruction that’s to come.

I think back to all the times when Nate made me uncomfortable growing up. The times when he’d slip out of his towel and settle onto my bed next to me, spreading his legs as he talked about his day. The times he’d look at me too long when I came in from school, prompting me to swap my crop tops for sweaters.

Nate never would’ve forced himself on me like this. Not in a million years. He wouldn’t have rammed his cock in my face and ordered me to unzip him with my teeth. This is degrading. Disgusting. Humiliating.

Colt glares at me. "Faster, bitch. Someone’s gonna walk over here and see. You know you fucking want it. Don't act like you weren’t staring at me from across the party."

I wasn’t. I was mainly looking out the window, wondering why the moon looked so beautiful tonight. It recalled the noblest moments of classical poetry. Edgar Allan Poe. Charles Baudelaire. The way it shone in the sky surrounded by stars made me feel safe. Comforted. Like I was finally safe from Nate and his creepy behavior. At Saintswood in Upstate New York at last, one of the most exclusive private colleges on the East Coast. The one I’d dreamt about dozens of times while writing college applications and applying for scholarships.

I have a full ride to Saintswood due to my SAT score. I studied hard, attending every workshop my high school offered. The instructors told me I shouldn’t bother taking the exam because I didn’t show enough promise on the practice tests, but I vowed to prove them wrong. In memory of my mother. She had her bitchy moments, but I still yearned to make her proud.

I ran from one nightmare to another.

I tug Colt’s zipper all the way down. His giant, meaty dick springs up, smacking my face.

"Open wide, slut."

"I’m not a slut."

"You’remyslut."

Colt rams every inch of his cock down my throat. He stares at me with a cold, heartless look on his face, his enormous hips working in and out of my lips. I can’t tell if it’s as big as Rook’s, but it feels just as enormous. The tip smashes against my tonsils, and I gag so hard that I cry.

Brock grips the back of my head harder, pulling my auburn hair so that I can’t jolt away. The pain is immense, though not greater than the hurt inflicted on my dignity.

I was saving myself for my first boyfriend. I planned to find one here on campus, one who’d cuddle with me in the campus café and help me study.

I’m the Sinners' plaything now. Their slut. Their filthy whore.

The worst part? I like this. Secretly. I'll never admit it out loud but I consent to this. They have my permission at least according to my body. My pussy.

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