Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
“Fuck, sweetheart. This mouth was made for choking on dick.”
“It’s not just her mouth that’s made for taking dick, “Callum groans as he bounces Mona between the two of us. “You’re so tight, baby girl. So fuckin’ wet, warm, and fuckin’ tight.” Callum locks eyes with me and smiles. “I’m going to fill you with cum, Mona. I’m going to chain you to the wall and take you down just to shoot my load inside you. That’s what you’re going to be, little girl. Our personal cum dump. Nothing but holes for us to fill.”
Callum’s filthy mouth is pushing me to the edge. The fouler he becomes, the more I want to match his energy.
I gaze down at Mona, wrapping my fingers around her delicate neck, and squeeze. “You look pretty like this, slut. Stuffed full, your face red. You’d look so pretty unconscious, wouldn’t you?”
Mona’s eyes shoot up, and her hands move. For a moment, I think she’ll tap out, but she grabs my ass and pulls me toward her.
“Fuck. Goddamn.” I grip her head with one hand while the other squeezes her throat. “I can feel my cock choking you, baby. You’re doing such a good job. That’s it, baby. Swallow me whole.”
I stiffen as Mona works my cock with her hot mouth. Between the thrill of watching her face turn red, her gasps for breath, and her warm tongue gliding around my cock, I’m on the brink. I pump aggressively into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. Her gagging noises heighten every sensation as I come.
I lower my head and gaze into her green eyes as I kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue. “You did well, baby girl. I’m so proud of you. Do you think you can take another load in that pretty pink cunt?”
“Yes,” she purrs.
I kiss the tip of her nose. “That’s my good girl.”
“Fuck,” Callum groans as he grips Mona’s hips and thrusts deep. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”
His hand moves to her hair, yanking her head back so he can close his hand around her throat. “How does it feel, slut? How does it feel to know you’re a pathetic whore? To know that you gave up this cunt to two men you don’t know.”
“Good,” she squeaks, the word barely audible.
Callum spits on her face and smiles. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself, slut, because I plan on making you my free-use cum bucket.” With a groan, he stiffens as he comes, abandoning his hold on her neck to wrap his arm around her middle. “What am I going to do with you?”
Guilt racks my body as she whispers, “Let me go.”
8
CALLUM
Idrop the phone as Atlas walks into the room. “Who were you talking to?
“No one.”
“Cut the crap, Callum. You look like you saw a damn ghost. That tells me whoever you were talking to is someone you want to keep from me.”
I hate lying to Atlas. Every truth I omit to tell him is a heavy punch lodging in my body, but I don’t want him to hate me. Atlas doesn’t need a reason to see a bigger monster than I already am. But I’ll no longer be a piece of trash who mindlessly hurts others. I’ll be a soldier breaking rank to do the right thing.
“The less you know, the better.”
“Fuck off. I’m not a child, Callum.”
“I’m getting her out of here, and…” I don’t know how to say the next part. How can I tell the man I love that I’m busy hatching a plan to kill his father?
“And what, Callum?”
“They’re going to kill Meyer. It’s the only way all three of us can be free. Turns out that Mona is connected. Really connected. Her sister works for Alaric Cinder.”
Atlas sits on the bed, stunned into silence. I am not sure if he cares about his father dying. That man should have lost the privilege to breathe years ago. The only concern I have is the void Mona will leave in our lives. In such a short time, she’s changed our decrepit world into something better. “What will happen to Mona?”
“She’ll go home. She isn’t like us. She has a family. A big one full of people who love her.”
“You think you’ll be able to let her go?”
Will I be able to let her go?
“No, but we have to give her a shot. A chance for something decent. We owe her that.”
PART TWO
TWO YEARS LATER
9
CALLUM
If I were to pick one word to describe me, it would be dysfunctional. At least I’m self-aware. Most people with proclivities similar to mine would proclaim themselves as misunderstood. Which is laughable when one contemplates the moronic notion of that word. What does it even mean to be misunderstood? It allows gray to bleed into situations that should be black. Fictional stories would likely depict me as morally ambiguous and complex. But in reality, I’m simply a bad guy.