Tonight, I’d let myself have her. In my mind and in this room with Viagra making my cock throb with desperation, and the time I’d spent healing from the fucking tattoo and piercing making that need all the more powerful, I was giving in.
I pumped my dick as I thought of her, my thumb teasing the piercing and making me curse because it felt like heaven had just licked her tongue along the full length of me, and I was about thirteen seconds away from coming for her.
“Fuck me,” I cursed, the words practically a plea to the woman I was picturing, though I knew I’d have to reign in that desire when I finally returned to her.
But right now, she could have me. Alone and in my fiancée’s fucking bathroom. It was a hot mess but then again, so was I.
I pumped my cock a few more times, remembering the way Brooklyn had kissed me, and groaning her name as I came all over the floor, my chest rising and falling rapidly from the release.
My dick didn’t so much as pretend to deflate as the Viagra kept it captive, and a laugh tumbled from my lips which I knew was the edge of the dark place creeping in on me again.
I was going to leave this place a broken thing come morning and I knew it. This reality my pa had mapped out for me wasn’t going away even if I did spend the night locked in Anastasia’s bathroom, jerking off over a woman I couldn’t ever claim for myself.
In the morning I was going to go downstairs, pass by all of her merry men and let them think whatever the fuck they wanted to think about me as I went on my way. But right now, it looked like I was going to hell either way, so I was going to enjoy myself on the way down. And with that hopeless thought, I began pumping my dick in my fist once more, letting all of my attention fall onto my little psycho as I gave in to the dark and let myself pretend, just for a little while, that she was mine.
T he front door flew open with such force, I half expected a dinosaur attack before Niall appeared out of the shadows without a T-Rex in sight, the morning light filtering in behind him.
“Holy tits, Niall.” I held a hand to my chest and glanced over at Mateo who was on his feet with a kitchen knife in his grip and a savage sneer on his face. I’d given him that little stabby last night when he’d told me he’d need it if anything bad happened. I guessed he was prepping himself for an attack, though I didn’t know what he expected to come find us all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. An angry badger maybe, or a squirrel who was tired of living on nuts and wanted to steal our clothes, pretend to be human and rise up into high society. Yeah…that was just the sort of sneaky thing a squirrel would do.
Brutus was on his feet too, a snarl peeling back his lips and his hackles rising as he glared at Niall. I’d made a bandana for him out of a sparkly pink top and he’d almost taken my hand off when I’d tied it in place. He was such a good boy.
Niall ignored all of us, a cold detachment dripping from his dark eyes as he walked slowly towards me.
The television was still on and my snuggly blanket was still tucked around me. I’d been up all night long, except okay, maybe I’d drifted off for an hour or two or five, but mostly I’d been awake. And I’d been confused and worried too, because Hellfire had sounded seventy shades of off on the phone when he’d called last night, and thoughts of him had been whirring around in my brain like little flies trying to fix together a chopped-up piece of string.
When Niall hadn’t come home, I’d realised he was staying the night with his fiancée and that was when the tears had started and I’d ripped the stuffing out of a pillow with my bare hands. It was all in smashy corner now, joining the rest of the broken things, and I was starting to think I belonged over there too.
Mateo had refused to sit anywhere near me while Niall had been gone, his fingers constantly flexing and his muscles bunching like he was a ticking bomb set to explode. I wasn’t sure what was going on behind his eyes, but the fierce looks he kept giving me made me wonder if it was to do with little old me.
“Mateo and I are having a Lord of the Harry Potter-thon,” I announced, hoping Niall might want to join us though equally not wanting him to because he was probably fresh from his fancy fiancée’s bed after his dick danced the rumba with her giant chimichongas. Still, I couldn’t fight the need in me to have him close, even though my heart felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly by a tiny man with a tiny pitchfork.
“A what now?” Niall mumbled, not seeming interested in anything much, but his eyes kept wandering to me as he drifted through the room like a sad pirate ghost caught on a sea breeze.
“We watch the first Harry Potter then the first Lord of the Rings, then half way through, we turn it off then watch the second Harry Potter, the rest of the first Lord of the Rings, then-” I babbled and Niall cut over me.
“Now why in the fuck would anyone do that?” he growled, irritation flashing over his features, but my intuition was buzzing around my ears like a wasp looking for some jelly and I was fairly sure that wasn’t why he was angry.
Mateo took a step towards me as Niall got closer, his knife still raised and Niall ignored him like he wasn’t even there as he came to a halt right in front of me and just stared down at me.
“Because, Hellfire, then you get the real story. The secret story,” I said seriously. “Oh! And we found out Mateo’s a Hufflepuff, isn’t that great?”
Mateo grunted like he wasn’t in agreement of his Huffly-puff ways, but that was such a Hufflepuff reaction. “I’m a Slytherin, obviously, and so are you. And Angry Jack’s a Ravenclaw!”
“Ain’t that the clever one?” Niall muttered, scowling deeply. “Jack ain’t no fucking Ravenclaw. There isn’t thoughts in his head. Not fuckin’ one of them.”
“Not true. I’ve seen the sparks in his eyes and the cogs whirring in his ears. You could carve all of our brains out, stack them up like a totem pole and it still wouldn’t be as big as Jack’s brain,” I said firmly.
Niall stared at me for a long time, a dark cloud seeming to hang over him, threatening a rainstorm. He shrugged finally, turning away from me and finding himself face to face with Mateo’s knife, Harold. Harold wasn’t much to look at but he really had a glint about him that spoke of the pain he could cause, and I didn’t much like him being so near to Hellfire’s lovely face.
“Move,” Niall growled, letting the tip of the knife press against his cheek.
“I could cut your eyes out in under thirty seconds, bastardo,” Mateo warned, a deadly energy rolling from him.
“Mateo,” I gasped, getting up onto my knees on the couch and taking hold of his arm as I tried to pull the knife away from Hellfire. I’d only agreed to get him the weapon from the kitchen because I’d thought it might make him happy, but it only seemed to have made him more stabby – and not even in a fun way! I guessed that was the risk I’d run with my gift but enough was enough. “Niall needs his eyes where they are. I know they’d look pretty on a necklace, but we can’t just go around making necklaces out of people’s eyes because we need some new jewellery.” I squeezed Mateo’s wrist, drawing his gaze to me and letting him see the pain spilling out of my soul at the idea of him hurting Niall.