Sick Boys: Chapter 30

After taking a shower, I try to sleep, but it’s impossible. Vicious, kinky fuckery has taken over every dream I have, every waking thought. I turn and toss and after every dream I wake covered in sweat and with a pounding heart. But worst of all is the throbbing in my pussy, reminding me of how badly I’ve grown addicted to the games these boys play with my body.

Sighing, I roll around in bed, only to find out the sun has already risen.

Great, there goes my night. I’ve only slept a couple of hours, at most.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. I fish it from underneath my bed and check. It’s Dad.

Dad: How’s it going there? Still unsure about everything?

Penelope: Studying is fine. Hard time with some boys. But doing my best with what I have. Still searching.

Dad: Don’t push yourself too hard. I don’t want you dead too.

Penelope: That won’t happen.

Dad: I will protect you.

Penelope: I know.

Dad: Message me if you need me, and I will be there.

Penelope: Thank you.

His comments always make me smile. He’s so protective over me. Always has been.

But me going to Spine Ridge University has even put him on edge, out of all people.

I’m the only daughter he has left. I can’t disappoint him.

I get up from the bed and put on my short black dress and pumps before I walk out the door and head straight for the Skull & Serpent Society on the opposite side of the street.

When I get there, I take in a deep breath and force myself to put my big girl panties on.

This place is nothing but trouble, but I have to push on for my sister.

I ring the doorbell. The wait feels eternal. After a while, none other than Alistair opens up.

His usual solemn gaze makes place for surprise.

“Pen. You’re here.”

My face grows warmer and warmer as the inevitable blush seeps in.

“You expecting someone else?” I ask to break the ice.

I mean, I wouldn’t put it past them to keep fucking other girls. I mean, we didn’t specify exclusivity or anything.

“No, I’m just surprised you’d come back here after …” His brow rises. “You know.”

Now I’m blushing even harder, and fuck me, I never blush.

Why is this happening?

He suddenly grabs my shoulder, leans in, and whispers, “Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone. It can be our secret.”

Secret. I like that.

“Well, come in, since you’re here anyway,” he says, pretending like nothing ever happened. He opens the door farther so I can walk inside. “So what brings you here?”

“I need to speak with Felix,” I respond, sneaking a peek over his shoulder. “Is he here or in school?”

“We don’t have classes today. Or this entire week, for that matter,” Dylan suddenly chimes in as he walks out of the kitchen carrying a bagel. “Courtesy of my dad while he figures out what to do with the private hospital bill sent to him by Nathan’s parents.”

My jaw drops. “You got suspended?”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “Temporarily. Just to stay low. Keep out of Phantom’s way after what we did.” He takes another big sip, still staring at me. “For now.”

“They’ll get over it.” Felix’s voice resonates from across the hall. “Nathan didn’t need that finger anyway.”

He’s casually leaning against a doorpost with his arms folded, wearing a smug face like he’s actually proud of what he accomplished.

Meanwhile, I’m still deciding who’s more fucked up; the person who cut off the finger or the person who told him to do it: Me.

Shivers run up and down my spine as our eyes connect.

“Where did you leave it anyway?” I ask, morbid curiosity making me talk before I realize it.

“In a little box,” he casually replies.

“He takes trophies.” Dylan shrugs.

“Trophies …” I shudder.

Felix steps forward, walking until he’s right up in my face. Always in my aura, too close for comfort. But being in his vicinity also has something empowering. Something viciously addictive. Like he oozes violence I can siphon away from him.

His eyes have only grown more bloodshot since I last saw him, and it makes me wonder if he ever really sleeps. At all.

His hand rises to grab a strand of my hair. “You’re wondering what trophy I’d take from you, aren’t you?” My lips part, but I don’t know what to say, so he leans in to whisper, “I’d take the one thing you wouldn’t ever give to me freely … Your heart.”

I lean away.

“Out of all the things that could scare you, that’s the one?” he says, a smirk slowly appearing on his face.

For some reason, it makes me blush.

I don’t ever fucking blush. Not for anyone.

Until he came along.

“Why did you come here, Pen?” he asks, twirling my hair around his finger. “Is your pussy hungry for more cock?”

My eyes widen. “What? No, I—”

“Wait, you fucked her?” Dylan suddenly interjects. I turn to look at him, and he narrows his eyes at me. “When?”

“None of your business,” Felix barks back, releasing my hair.

Dylan steps forward. “Did you forget our fucking deal?” He’s right up in Felix’s face now, intimidating him. “She belongs to all of us.”

Felix snarls back, “I’ve already marked her.”

Dylan pushes him. “Fuck off. You don’t get to claim that.”

Alistair snorts. “I can’t believe you guys are fighting over this. Did you forget we made an agreement with her?”

“You should’ve fucking told us you fucked her in private,” Dylan says.

Alistair and I quickly exchange glances.

They’re all talking about me like I’m not even here, and the rest of the boys who live in this frat house have now also come out of their rooms to see what’s going on.

Suddenly, Felix whips out a knife and points it right at Dylan’s face. “You wanna fight, pretty boy?”

“Is that supposed to be an insult, shovel face?” Dylan retorts, pulling out his own knife too now. “C’mon then. Show me what you’ve got.”

Are they really fighting over me?

My face flushes with heat.

Until Felix suddenly swipes the knife in Dylan’s direction, who barely manages to dodge.

“Stop!” I yell, and I push myself between them. “Don’t fight over me.”

Felix’s fist tightens around the knife as he stares down Dylan, who’s throwing daggers with his eyes instead of the knife in his hands.

“Yeah, Dylan … don’t fight over her. She obviously already belongs to me,” Felix says, tilting his head.

I can tell he’s really enjoying this, and for some reason, it makes my pussy clench, but I ignore the feeling as I’m far too busy trying to stop these two from murdering each other.

“Fine,” Dylan finally concedes and tucks away his knife. “You want her? Then you can deal with your shitty plans by yourself.”

He turns around and storms past Alistair and out the building. Alistair sheepishly stares at both of us before he runs out the door too, following Dylan.

I guess those two are more tightknit than I originally thought.

“Well that escalated quickly,” someone in the back says.

“Leave us,” Felix says.

All of the people watching go back to the room they were in like they never even came out in the first place. Quiet as a mouse.

I guess that’s the kind of power he holds.

Felix grabs my hand and tugs me along, but all I can focus on is how his hand feels when it touches mine, how I can feel every vein, and even his pulse.

Goose bumps scatter across my skin.

Why?

Why do they affect me like this?

He takes me to the back, into a private room with a fireplace and a pool table in the middle, along with a lofty couch and a giant TV.

He goes to the bar in the left corner and grabs two glasses, filling them both with some expensive-looking liquor. I stand in the middle of the room, awkward as hell, wondering why the fuck I’m even here.

Every time I’m in the vicinity of these boys, I lose all train of thought, and it’s infuriating.

Felix walks toward me and holds out a glass. “Drink.”

“Oh, I don’t want anything, thanks.”

He stares me down. “I didn’t ask.”

Well, pissing him off is the last thing on my to-do list after I saw what he’s capable of.

Reluctantly, I take the glass from his hand.

“Sip,” he says.

I bring the glass to my lips, and he watches me intently, his eyes taking in every inch of movement from my lips, to my tongue to even my throat as I swallow down a tiny bit of the hot concoction.

“Good girl.”

I almost choke on it.

“Stop,” I splutter, and I put the glass down on the pool table.

“Hmm. That pool table costs a ton,” he replies. “I wouldn’t put that there.”

“Or what?”

“I’ve hurt people for less,” he says, taking a sip himself. “You were there.”

Now I’m really starting to feel the chills.

“Is this your way of forcing people not to talk? By intimidating them?” I say.

“No,” he replies, and tilts his head. “I don’t need to force you to do anything. I just have to say ‘good girl.’”

I’m stunned as the blush appears on my cheeks, but I quickly force it to go away. “Look, what we have is an exchange. A deal. That’s all it is.”

He raises his brows and steps forward, right up into my face. “You sure about that, little slut?”

“Positive,” I reply, swallowing from the burn still lingering in my throat.

He leans over, his finger drawing a line down my cheek the same way he did in the basement. “Is that why your lips opened so easily when I kissed you?”

“I …”

I can’t even formulate the words with him so up close, those deadly eyes haunting my very soul. God, I can’t look away, not even if I tried. His lips inch closer and closer until mine start to lean in. I’m desperate to feel again what I felt that night, that pure, out of this world ecstasy.

“You’re a bad liar, Pen,” he whispers, and he leans away right before I almost fall into him.

Fucker.

“You’re manipulating me,” I say through gritted teeth.

He takes another casual sip of his drink. “Call it what you want.”

“Look, I didn’t come here for you to taunt me.”

He saunters to the red leather couch and flops down, still swirling that drink while staring me down. “Then tell me why you came here if not to be fucked by me.”

I’m trying to keep my composure here, but he’s making it damn hard on me.

“I’m still no further in trying to find the one who bullied my sister and made her jump.”

His grip on the glass tightens. “We already roughed up Nathan. You want me to kill him instead?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think he did it. It sounded like the truth when he said someone told him to do it.”

“I can cut off more fingers to make him talk,” he says. “How many fingers do you think it’ll take? Two? Four?”

He takes another casual sip like it’s the simplest thing in the world for him to torture people.

But I’m not surprised. I knew what I was getting myself into when I came to this university, to this frat house, to these boys …

“I don’t think he’ll talk. Whoever made him do it probably threatened him with death,” I say. “Why else would he protect the guy?”

Felix’s nostrils flare as he stares at the wall, his face growing darker with every passing second.

“I’m still no closer to finding out the truth, though. And I paid a heavy price with my face on those fucking posters.”

“You knew the price was high,” he says, his voice sharp, murderous.

Felix gets up and grabs one of the cues in the pool table, then lines up all the balls and shoots.

One shot is enough for him to put at least five balls in a corner.

Impressive.

“I need you to do more,” I say.

His eyes focus on me briefly before making another shot.

All of them disappeared into the holes.

Fuck, he’s really good.

“More?” His eyes narrow as he goes to grab the balls again and places them onto the table. “And have you ever thought about what this could cost me?”

I take in a breath. “I’m willing to pay the price.”

His eyes flicker with greed. “All right.” He holds out the stick to me, waiting. “Go on. Grab it.”

I finally cave and take it from him. When I turn around, he’s right there near my ass, feeling me up. And it’s so damn hard to focus on one of the balls let alone all of them as I struggle to place the cue without shivering.

But I’m still devoted to ignoring him as I hold the cue in front of the ball and shoot.

Right then, his finger jabs up my ass.

I miss. By a long shot.

And I jolt up and down from the sudden finger thrust.

“What the fuck was that?” I gasp.

His brow rises. “Have you played before?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

I grimace. “Not with a finger shoved up my ass. Of course, I’d fuck up.”

A filthy smirk forms on his lips. I don’t see that smile often, and I get the feeling he’s showing it more and more when he’s around me. And I have to admit, it looks good on him.

He leans in and grabs me by my ass, pulling me closer. “You should try playing with something else shoved up your ass.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

Did he actually say that out loud?

Before I can ask, he walks off to a cabinet in the back, only to return with a strange bottle and a sparkly diamond-looking butt plug.

Oh God.

“Bend over,” he says, his voice raspy, raw.

And I swallow back the lump in my throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”

He holds it up in front of my face as his hand lands on my thigh, possessively squeezing my flesh. “I don’t do jokes. I thought you knew that by now.”

“So what then?”

His eyes go half mast. “I do you.”

My cheeks heat, but I push back the embarrassment. “I’m not some—”

He plants a finger on my mouth. “Toy. Mine.” He hisses into my ear, “Now bend.”

He spins me around and flops me down onto the table with ease.

“I didn’t—”

He lifts my dress. “You agreed to our terms.” He bends over me, his bulge pressing against my ass as he whispers, “Now do you want to do it the easy way, or the hard way?” He holds up a bottle of lube.

I shudder at the thought. I’ve done some ass things before with a previous boyfriend, but I never went this far.

“Use your words.” His voice is commanding. Obsessive, almost.

“Easy.”

“Then beg for it,” he groans.

It takes every ounce of self-control not to pummel him in the face as I grit, “Please.”

“Good girl,” he says with a low voice, and I hate it.

I hate how it fucking makes my pussy thump.

He rips down my panties and slathers on the cold lube, rubbing it out before positioning the diamond plug against my ass.

“This is going to hurt …” he says, pressing the palm of his hand on my ass. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

I yelp when he pushes it in, slowly at first, but faster the farther he gets in. My nails dig into the pool table, tears staining my eyes, but I force them to stay at bay.

I’m not crying for this fucker.

I know he loves my tears.

“Such a good fucking slut for me,” he murmurs as he plops it in until the base. Then he slaps my ass, and it reverberates everywhere. God, that thing enhances everything.

“You like to humiliate me, don’t you?” I retort as I lie here on this pool table with his hands still claiming my body like he owns it.

“No,” he says as he pulls me up from the table and props me up against it, eyes boring into mine. “I live for it.”

“Why? Why do you hate me so fucking much?” I growl.

“Hate?” His eyes narrow as he leans in so close I can feel his breath on my skin. “No, Pen, this is possession.” He presses himself up against me, growing hard against my dress while his hands are all over my ass. “You like being told what to do, don’t you? You’re just like your sister.”

My eyes widen and flicker with interest. “Why are you pulling her into this? It almost sounds like you know more about her than you’re letting on.”

“She was a friend,” he says.

Did she involve herself in these fuckers’ business?

If she was truly their friend, she must’ve known how fucked up they were, right?

“My sister would never—”

“Maybe you didn’t know your sister as well as you believe,” he says, and he pulls away again.

But I can still feel his handprint on my ass.

“Now play.”

My nostrils flare, anger bubbling to the surface.

Not just because I know he’s fucking hiding something from me about my sister.

But also because of how lusty he just made me feel.

I lift my panties back up and pat down my dress, then turn around to grab the cue and focus on the game.

He wants me to play? I’ll play.

I put the cue near the balls. “If she was such a good friend, why did you let her die? You were there too. You did nothing to stop her from jumping.”

Right when I shoot, he says, “Neither did you.”

I miss again.

“I saw you at the edge, standing there while her body flew down.” Enraged, I turn around, but he’s right there in front of me, blocking the way out. “You suspected us. But has it ever occurred to you we might suspect you?”