Of Fae and Hate

“Shut up, Brynsyn,” Fox grits out. He’s definitely not as relaxed as Brynsyn and I.

“Did you take anything?” I ask, reclining back against Brynsyn. He feels so hard and warm. It’s nice. “Because there’s no way we can fuck if there’s already a stick shoved up your ass.”

“I think I’ve said that to him before,” Brynsyn muses. “You know, I like you, Ner, we should get married.”

“I’m too young to be married.” My tongue feels too thick in my mouth and my words are slightly slurred.

“What if I vow to give you good dick everyday?”

“I hear your dick is evil.”

Silence.

He laughs and for some reason that seems like the funniest shit ever so I start laughing too.

“Holy fuck, this is ridiculous,” Fox grits out. He reaches behind me and when he comes up with the bag of drugs, Brynsyn lets out a cheer from behind me. “I’m going to have to be fucked up too to deal with you two,” Fox says before he dumps the rest of the baggie into his mouth.

My eyes widen.

“Is that how much you’re supposed to take-” His lips slam against mine, cutting me off and suddenly it isn’t important whether or not he’s going to overdose on the little blue powder.

God, if I though Brynsyn’s lips were addicting than Fox’s lips are downright deadly. They glide over mine with ease, harsher and rough than Brynsyn’s. When I try to push forward against Fox, his hands tighten on me, not allowing me to go anywhere.

I’m about to complain just when I feel Brynsyn’s hands moving around my waist and trying to dip under the waistband of my jeans.

“Fuck, these things are tight, can’t get my hand inside,” he mutters against my neck. “How’d you get them on?”

“Magic.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Would you two just shut the fuck up already,” Fox huffs out, irritation in his eyes as he pulls away from my lips.

“You’re being real toppy tonight,” Brynsyn says, his voice whimsical.

Fox mutters something under his breath, and he’d definitely still too tense to have taken the same shit that we did. I let out a squeal as he roughly jerks me forward before forcefully pulling my jeans down.

My eyes widen as a rip sounds through the room and I look down to find that Fox has indeed ripped my best pair of jeans.

“You… you…” An insult won’t come to mind and frustration tries to push the haze, but it isn’t quite strong enough.

“He’s rich, he’ll buy you more.”

“I’m rich, I can buy me more,” I protest. “They were my favorite.”

Fox isn’t concerned about my jeans in the slightest as he finishes pulling them off of me, each little rip sounding louder as it moves through the room. He tosses the shredded fabric over his shoulder.

“Here’s how this thing is going to go. You two are going to keep your fucking mouths shut and we’re all going to get off,” he demands. When I came into the room, I got the sense that Brynsyn was the one in charge but it seems the drugs have flipped the dynamics.

I open my lips to tell him he better make my orgasm good since he killed my pants but then his lips are taking over mine again.

This time Brynsyn has easy access as his hands slide down into the waistband of my panties. His fingers ghost over my clit and I try to push into the touch, but once again, Fox has me locked down, not allowing me to go anywhere.

How often do they do this?

Even under the influence of drugs, the two are in sync, Brynsyn’s fingers teasing and skirting along my clit at the same time that Fox bites down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste is enough to overpower that sweetness from the Olix.