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Sick Boys: Chapter 63

DYLAN

I drip even more onto this nipple than the other, leaving her squirming against the cross.

God, I love watching her writhe.

Nothing on this earth can satisfy me as much as this.

Call me a pyromaniac, I don’t care. The fire makes my fucking soul sing. And if I can use it to both punish and pleasure the woman I want more than anything but can’t have, then so be it.

“This would be so much better if she’d be writhing with desire too,” Alistair jokes as he sits down in the chair next to the door with a pencil and paper.

Our eyes connect, and I know what he’s thinking. I wink, and he grins in response. I love how he reacts to everything I do to her with an unmatched hunger. And I’ll pretty much do anything and everything to see more of it. I’ve always been a free spirit, but I’d let them tie me down.

Alistair pulls his zipper and passionately draws something on the paper. Probably Penelope, strapped to this cross, at the mercy of his friends.

But as he draws, he starts to touch himself. And fuck me, he’s already rigid, and the glistening tip makes me swallow. Hard.

I turn to look at Penelope, who’s closed her eyes, but her flushed cheeks give away she was looking at him just like I was. I pour more wax on her chest to wake her up. She shrieks, and her eyes burst open as it runs all the way down to her belly button.

“Don’t look away, Pen,” I say, tilting her chin up. “I can see you gawk at him. You want him, don’t you?”

She frowns and jerks her head away.

“You can deny it all you want, but we both know it’s the truth.” I swipe a finger along her slit, dipping my finger inside her wetness. It shouldn’t feel this fucking nice to punish the one girl I want to fuck so badly it almost hurts.

But I can hold myself back. The question is, can she?

A grin forms on my lips. “You hate that you still want us.”

She’s biting her tongue, but her legs can barely handle it as I thrust in and out. Her whole body quakes.

“You’re so wet and needy. Even when you despise us.” I lean in to whisper, “But only good sluts get to come.”

I can feel her throbbing, so I pull out right before she explodes.

An exasperated sigh comes out through her nose.

Goddamn, I didn’t think it’d be this sexy to withhold her orgasm.

But we’re not here for pleasure. We’re here to find out the truth about why she lit the university on fire.

I hold the candle closer to her slit. “Now are you going to talk?”

She shivers and shakes her head, sweat rolling down her body at the thought of being burned.

“No? Maybe a waxed pussy will change your mind.”

I drip some of it onto her sensitive parts, and the sizzle makes her hiss and jolt against the restraints. My bulge tents in my pants, but I ignore it because I don’t want to get distracted from my goal.

Alistair moans in the back, juggling between the drawing and his own gratification. “Don’t stop.”

“Our boy wants more, Pen … let’s give it to him.” I pour on more until even her pussy can’t separate the pain from the pleasure anymore.

I set down the candle and rub her with two fingers, mixing the hot wax with her wetness. “You’re just as fucked up as we are,” I mutter, lost in her eyes. “We could’ve been so fucking perfect together. If only you hadn’t tried to destroy it.”

I pound her with my waxed-up fingers, and she gasps when I drip more wax onto her nipples.

“Fuck,” Alistair groans in the back, the pencil dropping down onto the drawing before he shoots cum all over the paper. The paper lowers, revealing Penelope, naked, covered in wax, my tongue rolling across her skin, splashes of cum all over.

Exquisite.

I glance at Alistair over my shoulder, grinning with delight. “So quickly? You horny bastard.”


Alistair

I didn’t expect to get turned on so easily, so desperately.

But I guess even I have my limits.

And when Dylan plays around, things get out of hand quick.

I guess nothing gets me riled up as badly as watching the two people I want most of all being kinky together.

I roll the pencil through my semen until it’s coated.

I shouldn’t have liked it as much as I did. But I guess we’re all fucking sadists in this room.

She’s on that cross for a reason, and it isn’t just to play with her.

I get up, letting the paper drop to the floor as I zip back up. “My turn.”

Dylan steps away while biting his lip as I approach with the pencil. “What was that you said about Dylan’s father?” I slide my own slickness across the pencil. “Maybe I need to jostle your memory.”

I shove the pencil into her, and she gasps as I roll it around inside, coating her insides with my juices. And I look into her eyes, taking in all the regret, all the hatred, all the yearning, every emotion she has left. Like a drunk desperate for a last drop before the bottle is poured empty.

“If I can’t have you anymore … at least my fucking cum will be there for eternity,” I rasp, and I pinch her waxed nipples so hard she screams.

I don’t want to hurt her, but after what she did, she leaves me no choice.

“Fuck that, we’re not letting her go,” Felix growls, butting in only to shove the handle of the knife inside me along with that pencil. “If we can’t have her, no one can.”

“Aren’t we supposed to interrogate her, though?” Dylan casually asks.

“She’ll only lie,” Felix says through gritted teeth while staring Penelope in the eyes.

“I know, but … why would she keep mentioning my dad?”

“Because he’s the one who told us to break up with both her and Eve!” Felix barks.

Penelope snorts, but the snort quickly turns into muffled laughter, so much so that all of us are now looking at her like she’s gone mad.

I don’t like this one bit.

I pull the knife and the pencil out of her.

“What are you laughing at?” Felix snarls, grasping her face with one hand.

“Okay, I want to know what she has to say. Now.” Dylan rips off the tape and chucks it out the window.

But all she can do is laugh out loud.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Dylan asks.

“You all think someone put me up to this, but it’s just me. It was all me,” she says between laughs. “And you don’t even realize it’s all your fucking father’s fault.”

Dylan frowns. “My father? No, he has nothing to do with whatever the fuck you’re doing. He literally came to help the firefighters.”

Her face changes. Stoically.

Like she’s suddenly given up and thought Oh what the hell … screw it.

“He spoke to Eve just before the bonfire and told her to end things or she’d be kicked out of the school,” she replies in a haze.

Dean Caruso spoke with Eve before she died?

“What?” Dylan mutters as he steps away while staring at Penelope with a blank face. He shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he—”

“Because she was fucking pregnant!”


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