The Never King: Chapter 10

The chain they cuffed me to is just long enough for me to leave the bed and reach the bank of windows. The shutters are still open so I can hear everything going on down there.

I hear Kas tell a girl to get on her knees and she does it without question and the rest of them hanging out by the fire watch as he takes her.

Some weird, foreign feeling fills my chest as I watch.

I’m buzzing between my legs, suddenly wet.

I was going to do that. That should be me. Except watching him…

Why the hell am I so aroused by this?

The girl starts choking on him, but he doesn’t give in.

I am entranced by him, by the thrusting of his hips and the glint of the moonlight on his dark hair, the straight dark lines of his tattoos and—

My bedroom door bangs open. A dark figure stalks in, grabs my chain and yanks me back. I lose my footing, stumble. Bash catches me and wraps a hand around my throat.

“What did you say to him, Darling?”

“What? I didn’t—”

“I know my brother. He’s my other half, after all.”

There’s just enough moonlight pouring through my windows to see the hard scowl on Bash’s face. They may be identical, but Bash’s edges are sharper.

He must be the older of the two, Kas’s protector even though I doubt he needs protecting.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Bash’s grip on me tightens. “All of you fucking Darlings are the same. You act innocent, like you’re the victims—”

“We are!”

He snorts. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“You kidnapped me. I don’t want to be here!”

He swings me around and presses me against the wall. The air is knocked out of me.

“You think we want you here?” he says. “You think this is fun for us? Watching Pan slowly die right in front of our eyes? Feeling the island revolt as if it wants to spit us out? You think we asked for the Darlings to—”

He cuts himself off and takes in a long, deep breath, nostrils flaring.

“Pan is dying?” I say.

He scowls and his eye twitches.

“Why is he dying?”

He removes his hand from my throat, but it lingers on my shoulder, his thumb pressing at the valley between my collarbones.

I’m still ignited after watching his brother fuck some girl’s mouth.

My heart is racing in my chest.

Bash meets my eyes and he narrows his.

His breathing quickens and I realize I made a mistake trying to get to Kas first. I thought he would be the one because he was the nicest. But that’s exactly the reason he wouldn’t touch me. Not first, anyway.

Starla, I think, I’ll make you proud.

You fuck the one that’s good and ready, she’d say.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used my body to get what I want.

I let out a breathy little moan and Bash clenches his teeth together, presses closer. I can feel his cock hard against my thigh.

I push my hips forward, rock against him.

He growls.

Bash will fuck me.

I’m sure of it now.

And when he does, Kas will be pissed and Pan will be pissed and I’m not sure what Vane will do.

But I will have set something in motion.

Channeling my inner Starla, I reach between us and grope Bash and his nostrils flare as a rumble sounds deep in his chest.

I stroke him through his pants.

“Darling,” he says, “you’re playing with fire.”

“Am I?”

His hand slides back up my throat as his teeth grit together.

I bring my hand up and steal in beneath the waistband of his pants. When I feel the heat of his cock, the head swells and I drag my thumb over the slit.

“Fuck it,” he says and spins us around, sitting himself on the edge of the bed, me on his lap.

He has himself out before I can take a breath and then he’s tearing my panties aside and shoving into me.

“Bounce on my cock, Darling,” he orders and the triumph nearly escapes me in a high-pitched squeal.

I seat my knees on the bed, wrap my arms around him and slide him out, then back in. His grip is hard on my hips, driving me down on him. “Fuck. This is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

He throbs inside of me.

I yank off his shirt.

If I’m going to use my body to get what I want, then I at least want to admire what I’m taking in return.

Bash is corded in muscle, covered in those deliberate dark lines. His abs constrict as he shoves into me.

“Fuck, Darling. Fucking hell. Pan is going to kill me.”

He yanks down the collar of my dress, pulls my breast out and captures my nipple in his mouth. He bites at me. I yelp and jolt against him, but he tightens his hold on me.

Rocking my clit against him, my pleasure builds.

I’m fucking a Lost Boy.

I have a plan.

I’m going to get out of here and then—

I feel Peter Pan before I see him.

And when he walks in the room, Bash immediately goes still beneath me.

I see the flick of a lighter first, the flame dancing in the darkness, burning the end of the cigarette in his mouth.

Bash throbs deep inside of me.

Pan snaps the lighter shut with a definitive clack, then takes a pull on the cigarette, the bright ember burning neon orange.

When he exhales smoke, he says, “Don’t stop on my account.”

He comes into the room, sitting in the wingback chair behind me.

Bash exhales, almost a sigh. He’s still hard, still buried in me, but he doesn’t move.

“Go on,” Pan says. “Fuck her.”

“Pan…I didn’t—”

“Fuck her, Bash. Do it now.”

Bash looks up at me. I can’t tell if there’s regret or relief on his face.

He thrusts up, guides my hips down the length of him.

I can’t see Pan, but I can feel his heavy gaze on my backside and somehow that is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.

I like it more than I should. I might have fucked half the basketball team, but never at once.

Bash picks up the tempo and I help him along, bouncing on him as we get closer and closer and the room fills with curling smoke and the smell of burning tobacco.

My clit throbs, desperate for friction and I rock forward, grinding against Bash, sliding down the length of him.

“Fuck, Darling. Just like that.”

He grows harder inside of me.

“Fuck. Fuck, yes.”

His chest rises and falls and then all of the muscle in his body tenses up as he growls and slams into me, spilling cum inside of me.

I’m so close.

I just need a few more thrusts.

I pant into Bash’s neck and hold on tight, coated in sweat now and warm summer air.

So close.

So close.

A strong arm wraps around my waist and yanks me off of Bash, stealing the pleasure and the heat.

I’m throbbing and wet and leaking cum.

“Get out,” he tells Bash.

“For fuck’s sake, Pan,” Bash says as he yanks his pants up. “If you’re trying to teach me a lesson, you missed the mark.”

“Go on,” Pan says with me still pressed against his chest.

When Bash is gone, Pan whirls me around and tosses me into the wingback. The chain rattles and grows taut.

He points a finger at me, silver ring flaring in the moonlight. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re getting yourself into.”

“I was kidnapped. I think I know well enough.”

He bristles.

Good. This is what I wanted. Get beneath their skin. Look for weaknesses.

This is my talent. I can do this.

I pull up the hem of my skirt. There’s a dark, wet mark on my panties, both from my pussy and Bash’s cum.

Pan can’t help but look down between my legs. His jaw flexes as he hunches closer.

I pull my panties aside and slide my fingers down my wet slit, dip a fingertip inside of me.

I am enjoying this. Maybe more than I should.

I’m like a kid let loose at a county fair and I want to ride all the rides and play all the games.

What do I really have to lose?

Yesterday I didn’t think any of this was real.

Maybe it’s not.

Maybe this is all a dream and if it is, then I can do whatever the hell I want.

I moan as I rub at my clit.

Pan glares at me, his nearly-white eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

I don’t know what he is and I don’t think I care.

All I know is that he’s my captor and I’m not going to let him keep the upper hand.

I sink in the chair, spread my legs further and pick up the pace.

I was already primed to come before Pan yanked me away. I’m already this close.

I fight the urge to close my eyes and sink into the searing heat.

I want to see him when I come.

I want to know how he feels about it because regardless of what these boys are, I think I can still read them like an open book. And whatever words I read I will use against them later.

The anticipation of the orgasm sends a shiver down my spine and I arch in the chair, baring more of myself to him.

His gaze dips to my pussy as I work at my clit.

He’s so hungry.

The searing heat between my legs nearly consumes me as his nostrils flare.

Peter Pan was a myth and now he’s real and he’s drinking in the sight of me like I’m a mirage.

As I descend into the pleasure, Pan’s hand slides up my thigh and gooseflesh erupts on my skin.

Touch me, I think.

Touch me.

I slow my pace, hold my fingers over my clit trying to keep the orgasm at bay just to see what Pan will do.

He sinks two fingers inside of me all the way up to his first knuckle.

My breath gets stuck in my throat.

He slides his fingers back out slowly, then shoves in hard again, rocking me back against the chair.

I’m being finger fucked by a myth.

Oh my god.

“Don’t stop, Darling,” he orders.

I swirl my fingers around my clit, nerves blinking alive.

Pan pulls his fingers out of me and then shoves them into my mouth.

My eyes pop open. I can taste the sweetness of my juices and the tang of cum.

“Clean them off.”

I run my tongue down the length of his fingers as he commands. His eyes narrow.

“What’s that taste like?” he asks, then sets his jaw hard as he waits for me to answer.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Trouble,” he tells me. “Filthy little Darling whore.”

His words ignite something in me.

“Oh fuck,” I say around a moan. “Yes.”

I’m so hot, so wound up tight, descended so far into oblivion, that the wave crashes through me in an instant and my inner walls clench up and I hold my breath, my entire body tensing up.

I don’t want it to end.

Heat floods through me and I pull into myself, toes curling. My knees draw up, but Pan knocks them back, keeps me spread open.

I pant out, breathless, a little dizzy.

I’ve been ignited like a supernova.

Pan grips me roughly by the jaw and forces me to look at him as sweat coats my forehead, my chest, as the breath wheezes out of me.

Fury has sharpened the planes of his face.

“We don’t fuck Darlings,” he tells me. “Stop fucking around or you will regret it.”

And then he leaves me, soaking wet and dirty in the chair.