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Brutal Obsession: Chapter 11

GREYSON

My grip on my phone is hard enough to crack the screen. I get rid of the text to my father and shove it back in my pocket.

The princess gives me one last look, then walks over to Steele. He’s still half in the shadows, but he straightens up when he realizes it’s actually happening. His lips part, like he’s going to back out. But we talked about this—I need to test her. To see how far she’ll go to save her own skin.

And he agreed. Quiet, stick-to-the-peripherals Steele, who has a small group of friends and likes it that way, agreed to help me. In a perverted, twisted way.

My gut clenches, but I follow her toward him. It’s like she’s got me on a leash, trailing me along behind her. I watch her sink to her knees in front of him.

This is a test for me as much as it is for her. I need to withstand this, because the alternative is too devastating to comprehend. I’ve never been possessive over someone before—certainly not a girl. Certainly not one like Violet.

She reaches out and unbuckles Steele’s pants, then reaches in and frees his cock. Her movements are quick and sure, but she’s not rushing. The asshole is already hard, not that I can blame him. I ball my hands into fists and keep them by my side, then force myself to take a seat near the lockers on the far wall. I have a view of her. I’m almost level with her face when I sit.

She licks her lips, casting a quick glance in my direction. “You having regrets, Devereux?” she asks.

I narrow my eyes.

She inches forward, wrapping her hand around the base of him. He lets out a groan, his head tilting back. She takes him in her mouth, tasting first, and then she lets out a noise of her own. A whimper. Like he tastes… good .

White-hot fury goes through me in waves. A pulse that rocks my whole body.

Violet moves forward, her eyes closing for the barest moment as she takes him deeper. She sucks, and her cheeks hollow with the action. She pulls back and looks up at Steele.

“You like that, baby?” She licks him from base to tip, then swallows him whole again. It’s so fucking erotic, like she’s trying to win a blow job contest.

This is better—and infinitely worse—than any grainy video on my phone.

Steele groans again, and his fingers fist in her hair. He lets her control the pace for all of two seconds, then takes over. He thrusts into her mouth, and she makes a gagging noise. Tears spill down her cheeks.

It’s fucking beautiful. It makes me rock-hard in a split second.

Steele ignores it and keeps pushing into her mouth. He’s big, and I’m sure the head of his cock is going down her throat. She gags again, and her wet eyes flutter open. She grips his thighs, trying to push away, but he’s got her in an iron hold.

Her helplessness turns me on even more, even as the anger drives me higher. I hate the sight of one of my best friends face fucking her. I hate that he’s the one touching her hair, that her mouth is closed around him.

I thought I could stand it, but I can’t.

Her eyes roll to me. The tears mix with the drool spilling from her lips. The noise is toxic. Grating. I’m going to hit Steele in the fucking balls.

I rise and go toward them before I can help myself.

Steele doesn’t notice me in front of him until it’s too late—but I’m too late. He comes in her mouth, and I see red.

I yank her away from him. My grip on her hair and arm is too strong, and Steele’s fingers slide away. He’s still coming, a low hiss slipping from his mouth as his cock jerks in the air. His cum hits her in the side of the face, her neck. Ropes of it.

She leans to the side and spits his cum on the floor, and satisfaction fills me. It eases some of the brutality that’s coursing through my veins. But not enough to stop me from what I want to do next.

“Get out,” I bark at Steele.

He lets out a breath and shakes his head, staring down at Violet. “That video didn’t do that fucking justice. Holy shit.”

“Get. Out,” I roar.

He chuckles and tucks his dick back into his pants. He takes his time with it, and I clench and unclench my fists. Violet kneels between us, her head bowed. He adjusts himself, wearing a knowing smirk. And he nods at me on his way out.

I look down at Violet. She’s an absolute fucking mess. Her mascara is streaked down her face, the blue eye makeup mixing with the black. It gives her a bruised appearance. Her lipstick has smeared. Who the fuck wears blue lipstick?

Like a knockoff version of a Goth girl. Before anyway.

She’s got his cum on her face, and she makes no move to wipe it away. She makes no move to do anything at all, actually. She just kneels in front of me, glaring at the floor like she doesn’t know who to blame more—me or herself.

It’s my fault—but not the way she thinks.

I slowly undo my pants and shove them down. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth and bites down. She draws blood. It bubbles up on her lower lip, staining her front teeth.

Good . In the most fucked-up way possible, I’m looking forward to her blood on my dick. I step forward, and she leans back. Her head tips back, too, and she keeps her gaze locked on me.

“Delete the video,” she says. “I did what you fucking wanted—”

“I want a whole lot more than that.”

She stays still when I grip my length and pump it once, twice. I don’t need it, but I want her to look down and see what I’m stroking. To know that, as impressive as Steele’s dick might be, he’s got nothing on me.

I smirk when her gaze does drop, and her eyes go wide. She releases her bloody lip from her teeth. I run the tip over her lips, then up her cheek. She doesn’t move, and I have to wonder why she doesn’t shove me away.

Maybe because she’s finally realizing she’s the prey and I’m the predator. And even though I promised to cut her free, beasts like me don’t tell the truth.

She walked into my trap, and now she’s mine.

Fuck it.

My reaction confirms it.

I run my dick across her lips for a second time, and then I lean down and grip her chin. I pull down until her mouth opens, revealing her pink tongue and white teeth. The red of the back of her throat, looking sore from Steele. I get her lipstick on my fingers, a streak of blood. Her tears, too.

I don’t give a shit if she cries, but I do want to drill into her in more than one way. Her mouth, yes. Her mind? Abso-fucking-lutely.

“That was the last dick you’re ever going to touch that isn’t mine,” I inform her.

I’ve never had to think about the consequences of my actions. Not really. I’ve never had regret. And I don’t plan on regretting my actions now. It’s a side effect of being the son of my defective father. The one who can charm anyone, who flashes money when charisma doesn’t work. Because doors have always opened, and panties have always dropped, and things have always been given, I don’t think anything about what I do next.

The taking.

Because maybe she’ll forgive me for this, or maybe she won’t.

But it only registers in the back of my mind that she might not—and that part of me doesn’t even care enough to stop.

I thrust into her mouth in one motion, filling her so thoroughly that I cut off her air. I stay there and wait, looking down at her. It feels too fucking good. Her throat pulses around the tip as she gags and works to try and breathe.

Her face gets redder.

I pull out, and she gasps sharply around me. Her teeth touch me, and I glare at her.

“Bite me, and I’ll choke you to death right here.”

Her eyes widen, but her jaw drops, too.

I take my time thrusting into her mouth. I can feel myself about to blow—I don’t know what it is about her, about the crying and anger, that puts me so on edge. But I’m about to fall off the ledge, and I’m not ready to finish savoring this.

When I hit the back of her throat, then deeper, she scrambles at my thighs. I grip the back of her head and keep her immobile until her eyes roll back and her body goes slack. Then I give her her breath back.

Over and over, until she’s losing her mind on my cock. She sucks, she swirls her tongue when I give her the chance. She wants me to come so this is done faster.

She thinks this will be the end of it.

Not even close.

I meant what I said: she’s never going to know another cock.

She reaches up and cups my balls, and I groan. Fuck, that feels good. She massages them, squeezes gently, and lifts them away from my body. Her hands feel too good. I pick up my pace, driven on by need. I’m just chasing a high now, and my knees are weak when I finally feel myself go.

I pull out of her mouth and grip my cock, pumping myself once, twice. Cum explodes out and splashes across her face and chest. And when I finally step back, she sags to the side. Barely catching herself.

I turn away abruptly, going to snag a towel from my bag. I dampen it and wipe my dick off, then yank my pants back into place. My thoughts are going a mile a minute. She’s mine. That’s what plays on repeat, underneath the current of how I can keep her bound to me.

She coughs weakly, and I turn back around. I toss her the used towel, and it lands in her lap. It takes her a second to pick it up and wipe at her face.

“Until we meet again,” I tell her. Then I leave her there.


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