In Fury Lies Mischief (Midnight Mayhem 2)

He curls his finger.

I fight it, ignoring him and turning around to face Kenan who’s watching me carefully from the other side. Kenan and I are completely platonic. We talk a lot of shit, or he does, but we both know nothing would ever happen between us because we mean too much to one another.

I spin back around. Killian gestures to his lap. Now, he mouths. A harsh dose of adrenaline takes over me and before I can stop myself, I find my feet going straight to where he is.

Once I’m within arm’s reach, his hands squeeze around the backs of my thighs and he yanks me down onto his lap so I’m straddling him.

His hand comes to the back of my neck and he shoves my face down, my lips barely touching his. He groans, smirking. “Hmmm, kinda want to punish you right now.”

Heat rushes through me, and like a crack addict, I absorb every single drop of it. “Why?” I ask, though my mouth feels like it’s moving slowly.

He leans forward and sucks my bottom lip between his teeth. “Because you’ve been a pain in my fucking ass, and now I sort of want to make yours hurt.” He pushes up from where he was sitting, taking my hand in his.

With his other hand, he downs the rest of his drink and then tosses his cup to the ground, reaching into my pocket to grab my smokes and Zippo. He lights one and puts them into his pocket, before dragging us behind Val’s RV.

It’s strange, because even though we’re only behind the RV and everyone is right there, it feels like it’s far enough away. I can hear the song “STARGAZING” by Travis Scott playing loudly just as he slams me up against the bus with one hand latched around my throat.

“Do you want Kaizer?” And there it is.

“What?” I breathe out, or attempt to.

Killian tilts his head, studying me as if I’m a science project. Some freak that he’s captured and attempting to decipher. There’s something frightening about being manhandled by a killer. The very hands that make me come are the same that end lives. But then there’s the power that comes with it, because he hasn’t hurt me.

“Killian…” I tap his hand and just when I think he’s not going to release any air, he slightly loosens his grip.

Pushing the smoke between his teeth, he hisses, baring his teeth and I swear if it didn’t put the fear of God in me, I would orgasm by the animalistic sound that vibrates out of him. He smirks, but his eyes remain feral as he wraps my hair around his fist, spinning me around. My face slams into the side of the RV. He shoves me harder, keeping one hand secured around the back of my neck, holding my face against the metal.

“Arch your back, Little Dragon…”

I do, leaning over more. I’ve become accustomed to how Killian fucks.

He has such a violent grip on my neck and hair that I didn’t expect him to be so gentle when I feel the palm of his hand run up the inside of my thigh.

My eyes close.

“You’re a fucking dirty bitch just like me.” His fingers dip into my panties from the back, and I clench around his invasion.

“Take your jeans off.” He releases me, flicking his smoke to the side, as I unbutton my jeans and they drop to my ankles, along with my panties.

His hand comes back to my neck, and he bends me forward as his other hand comes to my mouth. “Spit.”

I try, but because of all the weed, I’m dry.

“Open your mouth.”

I do, and his fingers go down my throat, reaching for my tonsils. I gag, spitting on his hands.

“Good girl.”

He brings his hand to my pussy from behind and I groan at the slick touch of him. He rubs me back and forth slowly, his finger pressing against my clit with every thrust before it disappears and the tip of his cock presses against my opening. He slams into me roughly and I scream out, my back arching and my hair flipping back. Heat flushes through me, sweat beading on my forehead.

“Shit.” His cock touches the tip of my cervix every single time, and I cry out as tears pour down my cheeks.

He pulls out just before I feel myself start the climb.

“Kaiz,” he calls out, and my eyes flash up in a panic, everything south turning down a notch.

My heart thunders in my chest as Kaizer comes forward out of the shadows, a smirk on his mouth and a bottle of whiskey hanging from his two fingers. He’s wearing a white shirt and blue jeans with Nike high tops on his feet.

“You still wanna play, Little Dragon?” Killian coaxes behind me.

“What’s the game?” I examine Kaizer.