Chapter 8 | Moxie

“No, it’s that one,” I say, pointing upward.

“The one with the giant crack running through it?”

“Yeah! You probably didn’t notice it cause of all the spiderwebs.”

We’re huddled in the courtyard beneath a rickety canopy, squinting up through the heavy rain like morons, trying to figure out which window belongs to our room.

I take a slow sip of my beer, like it’ll help me concentrate. Funny how running for your life through a graveyard makes you crave the comfort of cheap booze.

Mara takes a slow drag, the cigarette burning bright at the tip, then exhales through her nose like she’s letting the tension bleed out with the smoke.

I bring the cigarette to my lips and take a slow drag, letting the smoke sit in my lungs before I exhale. My other hand slips into my pocket, fingers closing around the ring, turning it over and over like a nervous tic I refuse to admit to.

“You wanna talk about that death scream you let out?” I ask, casual.

“What abut it?”

“Didn’t know you had that in you.”

She shrugs, eyes fixed on the dark. “Felt right.”

I’m about to press her further when I hear movement. 

“You guys got a light?” says a voice behind me.

I turn to find a girl about our age, maybe a foot shorter than me. Pale skin, jet-black hair that falls in tangled waves around her face. Kinda cute.

“Uh, yeah, here,” I say, digging around in my pocket for my lighter.

I flick the lighter on and lean in, shielding the flame from the wind as she cups her hands around the tip of her cigarette. It catches with a faint sizzle.

“I’m Moxie,” I say, nodding toward my bandmate.

“Mara,” she adds, exhaling a slow plume of smoke.

“Hazel,” the girl replies, stepping in closer under the canopy with us as thunder rolls low overhead. Her smile is quick, casual, like she’s already decided we’re friends.

“You guys are in that band, right? Piss Rot?”

I laugh. “It’s Kiss Rot. But yeah, that’s us.”

“Oh shit, sorry!” Hazel laughs, holding up her hands. “Greaves said there were some rockstars staying here.”

“Rockstars might be a stretch,” I say, taking a drag. “Most people just call us unemployed.”

“You’re touring, though. Sounds like work to me.”

I smirk. “Yeah, well, when the shows aren’t getting cancelled. Right now we’re just squatters with merch.”

“You and me both,” she says, exhaling smoke through her nose and flicking ash from the end of her cigarette.

“You got merch too?” I tease.

She snorts. “Hardly. I’m just... here.”

“Here how?” Mara asks, eyes narrowing slightly.

She shrugs. “Sold my soul to Greaves.”

I raise an eyebrow, because honestly, I can believe it. “Literally?”

Hazel smiles, but there’s no humour in it. “Might as well have been.”

She looks like she’s about to say something. Her smile falters. She hesitates, weighing the words, then finally exhales and commits.

“Look, I saw you guys in the graveyard earlier. That church?” Her voice drops, low and serious. “It’s bad fucking news. For real. You should stay far away.”

“Why?” I press, arms folding across my chest. “What’s the deal?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes lift to the sky, watching the storm clouds churn like something’s up there watching back.

 “Please,” she repeats, quieter now, almost pleading.

I narrow my eyes, suspicion creeping in. “What were you doing lurking back there? You one of those freaks?”

Hazel stiffens. “No. I was…” She trails off.

“You were what?” I press.

She swallows. “I was mourning my friends.”

I raise a brow. “Are your friends' last names Greaves?”

She shakes her head again. “No. There’s a section that runs along the side of the church, for those not family. That’s where my friends are buried.”

I glance at Mara, her face gives nothing away.

I exhale and ease off. “Sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”

Hazel waves it off, stubbing out her cigarette on the stone ledge beside us. “You’re good.” Then she turns to Mara, her gaze sharper now. “You saw the choir, didn’t you?”

I catch the flicker of shock on Mara’s face before she masks it.

“The who?” Mara asks, voice innocent.

Hazel must’ve seen it too. She reaches behind her neck and unclasped a thick metal locket, passing it to Mara.

“This was given to me when I first got here,” she says quietly. “They say it protects against the… it doesn’t matter. I want you to have it. It’ll help you more than it will me.”

Mara hesitates, eyes fixed on the pendant. Something in Hazel’s steady gaze nudges her to reluctantly take it.

“I gotta get back,” Hazel murmurs, stepping back into the shadows.

She seems on the verge of saying more, but thinks better of it and slips quietly back inside.

I glance back at Mara. She’s turning the locket over in her palm, holding the chain up with the other hand.

Somehow I already know before I see it.

A swirling circle, broken by a single, sunken dot. The same mark as my ring.

—

I watch in a mix of awe and disgust as Shane shovels the last of the potatoes into his mouth.

The buffet was just as bleak as this morning’s, maybe worse. I’d played it safe with a slice of dry bread, some sad-looking salad, and what I think was fried chicken but could’ve just as easily been roadkill.

We’re holed up in Shane and Noah’s room. Shane’s at the rickety old desk in the corner, washing down his food with what, by my count, is his fourth beer.

Noah’s flopped on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and lazily flipping a battered metal lighter from hand to hand. 

Mara perches on the windowsill, knees drawn tight to her chest, eyes fixed on the dark trail we took earlier into the woods. She cradles her beer in one hand, taking the occasional sip, but I swear the bottle’s not getting any emptier.

I crack open another beer just to fill the silence. The mood in here is bumming me out. I feel like I’m at a fucking funeral.

“Alright. Greaves's body with Eddie’s face, or Eddie’s body with Greaves's face?” I ask Noah.

Noah blinks. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s a would-you-rather, dumbass.”

He frowns. “Would I rather what?”

Fuck me. “Who would you rather fuck?”

Noah looks like he’s about to be sick. “Do I have to pick one?”

“Obviously,” I say. “That’s the point of the game. They can fuck you if that’s better?”

“It’s not.” He groans and rubs his face. “Jesus Christ…”

“Tick tock,” I add, sipping my beer.

“Fine. Eddie’s face, Greaves’s body.”

Shane lets out a strangled laugh. “Dude, that is so fucked up.” 

Noah sits up, defensive. “Oh, and what the fuck are you picking?”

“I’m straight.”

“Sorry? You think just ’cause I’m into guys, I want to fuck every creepy hotel manager I run into? Answer the question.”

Shane grins, unbothered. “I’m fucking Eddie with Greaves’s face.”

Noah raises an eyebrow. “How’s that any better?”

He shrugs. “I just know Greaves’s dirty talk is hot as hell.”

Noah snaps, “You’re an idiot.”

“Mara,” I start, grinning, “would you rather… have a slow and painful death or… be a bass player?”

Shane snaps, “What the fuck is your problem with bass players?”

I shrug. “I know one. Massive prick.”

“Fuck you,” he fires back.

I turn to Mara.

She smirks, breaking out of her doom watching. “Slow and painful death.”

“Glad to see someone here’s got some sense,” I say, bumping fists with her.

A loud bang rattles the wall from the next room, followed by hushed voices and a few smaller thuds.

Noah’s eyes flick toward me. “Okay, Mox, would you rather never play music again or lose your voice forever?”

“Can she not pick both?” Shane ribs.

“Sure, but then I’ll have to pursue my backup plan and start an OnlyFans with your mom.”

Shane scowls, eyes flashing. “Not cool, Mox.”

“I’ll take losing my voice. Been wasting too much breath on idiots anyway,” I say, shooting Shane a pointed look.

More banging pounds from the next room, rattling the walls like they're about to cave in.

“What the fuck is going on in there?” I mutter as I shift my gaze to the trembling wall.

Mara blinks, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t hear all that banging?”

She shakes her head slowly, and I glance at the others, blank stares all around.

“For real? You don’t hear that?” I say, jabbing a finger at the wall.

A beat. Then more banging.

I wave my hands like I’m losing it.

They still just stare.

“Goddamn, you guys need to start wearing earplugs for our jam sessions,” I say, disbelief thick in my voice.

Noah shrugs and Shane looks at me like I’m losing it.

Mara lets out a yawn and rubs her eyes. “Think I’m going to turn in early. We still heading into town tomorrow?”

Noah nods. “Yeah, some time away from this place will do us good.” He flips his lighter one last time and sits up on the bed. “Early night sounds good. Hopefully, we all get more rest than last night.”

“You can say that again,” Shane mutters, standing and digging into his case for his night bag.

Once again, everyone’s crashed before the party even had a chance to start. I quickly finish off my beer, wondering if you really need more than one person for a party.

The banging starts again, louder this time, with muffled voices bleeding through the walls. 

I shake my head and flick the empty glass bottle into the bin by the desk.

Noah pulls Mara into a tight hug. Then he looks at me, like he’s offering but already knows I’m gonna say no. I jab his shoulder affectionally. 

“Night, sluts,” I mutter, yanking the door open and stepping out. I hold it for Mara, and we stumble back into our own room.

It’s quiet in here, save for the tapping of rain against the window.

I nod toward the long crack running straight down the glass.

“Told you.”

She glances up. “Oh. Yeah.”

I step closer, hand landing lightly on her shoulder. “You holding up okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” she says, sinking onto the bed with a tired sigh. “Sorry if I’ve been kinda out of it. Ever since we were out there earlier, I’ve just felt... drained. And then—” she holds up the necklace, letting the dim light catch on its twisted metal. “This. I don’t know. Feels like I need to reset or something, you know?”

I nod. “Yeah. I get it.”

“What we heard at the church earlier,” Mara says quietly. “What do you think they were talking about?”

I drop down beside her on the bed. “I think they were off their fucking rockers, Mara. I wouldn’t read into it, okay?”

She turns to look at me. “Hazel knows something. I think there’s more to this.”

I slide an arm around her shoulder and pull her in.

“Tomorrow’s our last full day, and we’re spending most of it in Saint Pyre. Friday morning we bail for the show. We’re gonna be fine, alright?” I give her a gentle squeeze. “Promise.”

She smiles and nods, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little.

“Oh,” I say, nudging her. “I clocked a tattoo shop near the venue when we rolled through town. What do you say to killing a few hours in there tomorrow?”

She raises an eyebrow, a bit more present now. “To get what?”

I shrug. “Dunno. Sleep on it. I’m game for matching if you are.”

Her grin comes slow but genuine. “That’d be cool.”

I give her one last squeeze before letting go.

We move around the room in comfortable silence, kicking off boots, peeling out of layers. The storm still whispers against the window, but now it feels more comfortable and far away.

By the time the lights go out, I’ve somehow convinced Mara that everything’s gonna be fine. Hell, I’ve even convinced myself.

I sink back into the pillow, let my eyes close, and drift off into a deep sleep.

—

A sudden bang jerks me awake like a hard slap across the face.

My body is coursing with adrenaline and I can hear my heart jackhammering. My fists are clenched into fists before my brain’s even caught up.

I grab my phone off the nightstand and thumb the torch on, sweeping shaky light across the room. Nothing’s out of place. No monsters under the bed. Mara’s still passed out beside me, one arm flopped dramatically over her face as she snores like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

I kill the light and slip out of bed, barefoot on cold floorboards, and push the thin grey curtains aside. Outside, it’s pitch-black, save for one pale bulb glowing over the courtyard, pooling light across the wet stone. Same spot where we stood smoking earlier. The rain’s still coming down, but the storm’s mostly done throwing its tantrum.

I check my phone. The screen glares back: 3:07 a.m.

Figures.

I rub my eyes, grumbling under my breath, and let the curtains fall shut again, more annoyed than alarmed now. 

I turn back toward the bed and—

There it is again. Short, repetitive bangs echoing from somewhere out in the hall. Not thunder. Not wind. Just... knock, knock, knock.

I stand still, pulse starting to climb again, trying to figure out if it’s coming closer, or if this place is just fucking with me.

Three steps and I’m at the door. I press my ear to it.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

I pull back and grab my lighter from the nightstand, not for light, just something solid in my hand. Something to swing if shit gets weird.

Slowly, I twist the lock and ease the door open, just enough to peer into the hallway.

The corridor yawns ahead in both directions, silent and dimly lit. To the right, the staircase curves down into shadow. To the left, more guest rooms line the hallway, the corridor disappearing around a far corner where the building bends back on itself.

I stay there for a moment. Daring whatever’s out there to knock again.

Doesn’t take long.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s coming from the room next to Shane and Noah’s. Same rhythmic thuds I heard earlier, only now it’s louder, like it knows the rest of the hotel’s asleep and couldn’t care less.

“Alright, fuck this,” I mutter through clenched teeth, letting the door fall shut behind me. I stalk down the hall toward the source of the noise, every step heavy with pissed-off intent.

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

Me this time.

I slam my fist against the door like it owes me money.

I plant my hand on my hip, waiting for this fucknut to show their face.

Inside, I hear shuffling, murmurs, then footsteps approaching.

The lock clicks and the door creaks open with a reluctant groan.

“Hey! Just wondering if you planned on fucking all n—” I cut myself off, eyes locking onto the woman in the doorway.

Her deep brown skin seems almost to glow under the dim hallway light. Long white-blonde dreadlocks streaked with faded red cascade wildly down one side, framing her heavily tattooed neck and arms. A black mesh bralette and ripped high-waisted shorts leave her long legs bare. Her deep-set eyes, rimmed with smudged black eyeliner, lock onto me. Pale grey irises flickering with a ghostly golden fire. She doesn’t smile. Instead, she holds me in place with a heavy stare.

“All night?” she finishes, voice low and dripping with challenge, never breaking eye contact. “What if we were?”

I’m not used to people answering me back.

I flick a glance over her shoulder, searching for a partner. Nothing but shadows.

I step forward, closing the space between us. “Well, fuck quieter. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

She smirks, slow and infuriating. “Past your bedtime, kitten?”

Now I’m pissed. “Keep talking, princess, and maybe we’ll find out.”

Shadows shift behind her.

She grins in amusement. “Easy, kitten. Barin’ your claws and no one even touched you.” 

The shape moves closer. Not one. Two guys. One’s athletic, skin etched with tattoos, hair short and tousled. The other’s massive, his left arm a solid black slab of ink, dark hair falling to his shoulders.

“You order room service, D?” the athletic one smirks, voice rough but amused.

I flash a wicked grin, eyes glinting with sharp amusement. “What? Two boyfriends and still can’t get off? That it? No wonder you’re so damn grouchy. You guys got limp dicks or something?”

The big guy smirks, giving me a slow once-over like he’s deciding whether to be amused or offended. Yeah, yeah. Small girl, big mouth. Story of my life. Try me.

Her eyes flicker with that strange golden light, her smirk deepening as the two men step forward. Even in the dim hallway glow, I don’t need a closer look to catch the unmistakable, thick bulges pressing against their underwear.

“Are you still talking, kitten?” she purrs, her voice dripping with dark promise. “Maybe one of these boys should teach you some manners and shut that filthy mouth.”

“They’d be the first,” I mutter, a smug edge in my voice. I step through the doorway, not taking my eyes off hers until I’m past her. Guess we’re doing this the hard way. Fine by me.

The room’s empty. No bags, no sign anyone’s been here. The bed looks untouched, like no one’s so much as sat down. I drop my lighter onto the desk and turn to the two guys. Behind me, the door clicks shut with a soft but final snap.

One’s lean but wiry, muscles taut beneath pale skin. Jagged, uneven stick-and-poke tattoos crawl up his forearm like a secret language. His dark navy hair falls in tousled waves, brushing sharp cheekbones, and his eyes glint with restless energy.

The other is a mountain of muscle, broad-shouldered and solid. His left arm is a canvas of blackout ink. Dark hair falls past his shoulders in messy waves, half-tucked behind one ear but mostly wild. His steady gaze feels like an immovable force.

The three of them feel utterly out of place in this hotel, but then, so do we. I’m curious who they are and what their deal is, but it’s clear this is going to be more fuck first, maybe ask questions later.

“So which one of you two was going to teach me some manners?” I drawl, letting the boredom drip heavy, knowing full well I’m anything but.

The big guy—‘Muscles’, in my head—shifts, one hand lazily adjusting the bulge in his pants as he steps closer. The smirk that curls his lips is easy, a little cocky, like he’s sizing up a new toy.

“I could teach you some manners,” he drawls, voice low and thick like honey poured over gravel. “But I don’t go easy. I expect obedience. Total submission.”

Not bad, honestly. He’s got the voice for it. But I’m pegging him as more of a gentle giant with a daddy kink. All bark until someone calls him on it and then he’s on his knees and calling you princess. I’ve met his type before.

Off to the side, ‘Cheekbones’ pushes his messy hair back, eyes glittering with mischief as he gives me a slow once-over. His grin is pure trouble. I’m still undecided on what his deal is.

I tilt my head. “Alright then. Whip ‘em out.”

Wonder who’s bigger. My money is on Muscles.

Muscles steps forward first, his hand sliding down to the waistband of his boxer briefs with slow confidence. He lets them drop to the floor, revealing a thick, heavy cock, throbbing with need and pointing right at me like he’s ready to claim what’s his.

Cheekbones doesn’t rush. His dark eyes lock onto mine, intense and unblinking, as he slowly peels down his boxers. His cock is leaner but much longer, solid with veins pulsing beneath his skin.

He meets my gaze and smirks. His fingers slowly trace the length, running over every thick vein and ridge, like he’s unwrapping a gift he already knows I want. It’s clear he’s enjoying putting on a show, having the power and control in the moment.

“Impressive,” I admit.

“Not so loud now, huh?” He smirks, his confidence swelling from my compliment. “This the biggest you’ve seen?”

I’m really going to enjoy hearing him beg later.

“Oh,” I drawl. “I’ve seen bigger. In fact, I don’t think it’s even the biggest in this room.”

His brow furrows as he glances sideways at his friend, then back at me, like I’m just another dumb slut that needs to be fucked.

He opens his mouth to retort, but I don’t give him the chance. I reach my hand down my pants and pull out my own cock. It's bigger than either of theirs, the head flushed dark and glistening. I let it rest in my palm for a beat, then give it a lazy stroke, smirking as their eyes flick down.

I lift my hand to my mouth in mock horror. “Oh no. You were disciplining me,” I gasp, wide-eyed and innocent. I gesture with my hand. “Please.”

Muscles and Cheekbones look at each other. I’d guess somewhere between turned on and totally out of their depth. What to do with me… what to do with me…

I give them a sunshine smile and let my cock bounce for emphasis.

Somewhere behind me, I hear Dreads’ voice, dry and unimpressed. “Can one of you shut her up?”

Oh, am I getting to her? Good. Her turn will come.

I clap my hands, bright and eager. “Oh, great idea!” I drag my finger slowly across my lips. “I wonder how you guys might keep me quiet…”

Muscles doesn’t hesitate. He moves fast, palm steady on my shoulder as he pushes me gently down to my knees. I glance back at Dreads with a grin sharp enough to draw blood. Just so she knows I’m for fucking real.

I’m bone-tired, and I’m not leaving here till I get my goddamn apology from Dreads, preferably with her on her knees, drenched in my cum.

But then I see Muscles’ big dick right in front of me, and my inner slut wakes the hell up.

After the day I’ve had? Yeah, I could really use some dick. Call it self-care.

His cock’s thick, but I’ve had worse, or better. I hold the base with one hand as I lick around the tip, using my lips to tease him. I give him my best blowjob eyes as I get to work. I don’t think this will take long.

I feel Cheekbones shift closer, eager for attention. Without looking, I reach out and wrap my hand around his cock, stroking him slow and steady, just enough to keep him hanging. All the while, I keep my focus where it counts, on the thick, twitching dick in front of me. I’m nothing if not efficient.

“Fuck, yeah… just like that…” he groans, voice thick with need.

I like the way he feels in my mouth, every twitch, every ridge, every little pulse of ego I’m about to dismantle. He has pretty eyes. Especially when I do that thing with my tongue. Hard to keep up the cocky persona when you’re choking on your own moans.

I slip off, spitting his precum over the tip before my hand takes over, stroking slow and steady as I look up at him with big innocent eyes.

Should I call him daddy? Maybe I’m being presumptuous. Actually it doesn’t matter, he’s already seconds away from blowing all over my face.

“Fuck…” he moans, nudging Cheekbones with a sharp tap on the shoulder as they switch positions.

“Oh? I wasn’t done?” I say, dripping with fake disappointment.

I catch Dreads’ hellstare across the room. Damn, she’s pissed. Perfect.

Cheekbones steps forward, cock already twitching with impatience. The moment it’s in front of me, I know he’s about to test my gag reflex.

I don’t have to stretch as much this time. I drag slow, wet licks over the tip, teasing him, but Cheekbones has less patience than his friend. He begins to gently thrust, sliding deeper into my mouth and down my throat. 

I gag once, breath catching, but I hold. I always hold.

He thinks he’s in charge for a second. Cute.

I press forward, push back, taking the rhythm from him. I decide how deep he gets to go. How much of my throat he earns. 

And lucky for him, I’m curious just how deep that big cock can slide down my throat.

I flatten my tongue, close my eyes, and start easing down, slow and steady, inch by inch. He’s probably never been taken like this before.

But I’m determined. And sure enough, it’s not long before my nose is flush against his body.

I gag, pulling back with a gasp, spit stringing messily from my lips to his cock.

He lets out a ragged moan, and I know I’ve got him where I want him.

I open up and take him again, all the way to the base, holding him there just long enough to feel the tremble start in his thighs.

He’s got more stamina than Muscles, but I know he won’t last forever.

Somewhere to my right, I hear soft smacking sounds. I’d guess Muscles and Dreads are making out, or maybe something more. Shame. I was enjoying having all eyes on me. Oh well. Looks like the whole room’s getting off now. My kind of party.

My eyes water as I choke around Cheekbones’ cock, refusing to let up. I’m going to break him. It’s just a matter of time.

Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m like this. Sure, I’m horny as hell, but this feels more like payback. Pent-up fury after being dragged from sleep by someone with almost as much attitude as me.

I’m used to being the biggest diva on the tour, and I’d suck a hundred dicks if it meant coming out on top.

A gentle nudge tells me he’s done. “You not got a gag reflex?” he pants.

“Only for big dicks,” I shoot back with a wink.

He’s too breathless to give me a full reaction, just pained eyebrows.

“I’m kidding,” I add, raising my hands in mock innocence. Then under my breath, “I don’t have one for them either.”

“Why the fuck is she still talking?” I hear Dreads mutter, clearly at the end of her patience.

I rise smoothly to my feet, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand like I’ve just finished a snack.

“Are we gonna fuck this attitude out of you or what?” I ask, grinning. “You can keep up the bad bitch routine if it gets you off, but we both know you’ll be a whole lot friendlier after I make you cum.”

She looks at me like I’m filth, and I fucking love it. 

“Okay,” she sneers, stepping in close. “But we’re doing this my way, kitten.”

There it is again, ‘kitten’. Condescending, smug. She knows it pisses me off.

Whatever. Kitten's got something to prove.

She throws herself onto the bed, slipping out of her shorts and panties and perching against the headboard with her legs spread wide.

I crawl up after her, hands and knees, as I get into position.

Then her foot presses heavy on my shoulder, holding me back.

I glance up, lip curling. Really?

“You wanna fuck me?” she purrs, smug as hell. “Earn it.”

I should hate her for it, but fuck, I respect it. This is textbook Moxie shit. She’s playing me like I play everyone else. 

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you,” I growl, lowering myself between her thighs.

The bed dips behind me as Muscles climbs on. His hands find my ass, spreading me open without a word.

“Uh huh,” Dreads says, watching me with lazy delight. “And how bad do you want it, kitten?”

Bad enough to bury my face in your pussy while getting railed, I think. I say nothing.

I dive in, tongue slow and deep, dragging over her clit with lazy precision. Honestly, it’s nice to give my throat a break.

Behind me, the foil packet tears open. Perfect. I can handle two at once. Hell, I think I’ve earned it.

I tease her with the tip of my tongue. Lightly, just enough to frustrate. Just enough to remind her who she’s playing with.

Then I feel the cold lube between my cheeks, followed by his fingers pressing in, stretching me open like he’s prepping a toy.

Oh, yeah.

Her hands find the back of my head, trying to pull me in closer, grind me where she wants me.

The more frustrated she gets, the more control I’ve got. I press my tongue a little firmer, just enough to give her hope, but I keep the pace torturously slow. I want her to keep hold of that frustration.

She won’t beg, she’s too proud for that, but I want her to know this isn’t hers to take. It’s mine to give. And I’ll decide when she gets it.

I feel the pressure against my ass. I’ve already taken him in my mouth, so I know what’s coming, I’m about to get stretched wide for that cock.

I grind back against him, as he pushes harder.

For a heartbeat, it feels impossibly tight, like he’s about to split me open.

Then, with a wet, delicious pop, he slides into my ass.

I clamp down hard, trying to stifle the moan, but it feels so good. Dreads catches it, smirking like she owns my pleasure as I break my rhythm. 

“Focus, kitten,” she mocks, as she grinds herself against my mouth. 

I need to focus. If they break me, they own me. And I won’t fucking let that happen.

I pick up the pace, tongue flicking and lapping as she grinds her hips, guiding me. 

I wanted to drag this out. Take my time. I know how to undo her, how to make her a quivering mess. But I don’t know how long I have before that cock breaks me.

When I hook up on tour, I usually top. Not because I don’t love getting railed — I fucking do — but there’s something about the rockstar image, y’know? Living loud, fucking hard. Feels right to be the one doing the wrecking.

Anyway, getting fucked like this? It’s turning me on way too much. I can feel myself losing my grip on the reins. And part of me wants to let go. Just ride it out and cum hard with him. But I know that’s exactly what Dreads wants, she’d love to see me crack. The look of defeat on my face when I lose control and ruin their bedsheets. She’d probably get off on watching me break.

He starts sliding in and out, stretching me open as he works me deeper into that delicious haze. My head’s spinning, pleasure crashing over me like waves, but I force myself to focus.

Each thrust drives deeper, stretching me open until I’m gasping into her cunt. My tongue stutters for a second, hips twitching back against him without meaning to.

No. Focus.

I dig in, tongue circling her clit in messy circles, one hand gripping her thigh to anchor myself, the other clawing at the sheets. 

I know exactly how to take her apart. I can feel her getting close, hips grinding harder, but so am I. Every stroke has me clenching, moaning into her, dizzy from being used at both ends.

I’m going to make her come first. I have to.

I do not fucking lose.

I feel something wet land on my thighs and realise I’m dripping all over myself.

Fuck. Get it together, Mox.

I throw everything I’ve got at her, tongue working her over like it’s life or death, while Muscles pounds into me from behind. 

She’s so close, I can feel it in the way her hips stutter, the tight little gasps she tries to hold back.

I’m lightheaded, vision going dark at the edges. But there’s no time to breathe. Not when she’s this close. It’s now or never.

She tightens around my tongue, thighs clenching around my head like a vice.

Then she breaks.

A sharp gasp. A shudder. Her whole body locks, then jolts against my mouth as she comes hard, grinding down on my face like she wants to suffocate me. I ride it out, refusing to stop until I’ve wrung every last twitch out of her.

Only then do I pull back, gasping like I’ve been dragged out of deep water. My brain scrambles for something cocky to say, but there’s no air left in my lungs.

Doesn’t matter. I fucking won.

She’s still shaking, legs twitching as she comes back down. Meanwhile, Muscles hasn’t let up for a second. He’s still slamming into me, relentless, giving me no time to recover.

That’s fine. He’s got my full attention now.

I just have to find the right note to play.

I glance over my shoulder, breath hitching just right. “You like how tight I am around your cock?”

A ragged grunt. “Yeah, so fucking tight.”

Not bad. Let’s see if we can do better.

I arch my back, grind against him slow and deep. “Mmm… you’re so big and thick,” I breathe, letting the words melt into a moan that’s filthy enough to really inflate his ego.

That does it. His grip tightens as he slams in harder, chasing it.

I bite my lip, fighting the grin. Closer.

“Oh! You’re so deep. Stretching this tight little ass like it was made for your fat cock. Ahhh, fuck me daddy!”

His body tenses, cock pulsing like it’s about to burst.

Called it.

I whisper one last filthy command: “Cum for me.”

His hips jerk, and with one final deep thrust, he loses it, muscles clenching, cock pulsing as he spills deep inside the condom, shuddering with release. It feels incredible.

When he finally slips free, I don’t rush to let him go. I hold him close for a moment longer, savouring the heat still thrumming between us.

“Mmm,” I muse softly, voice dripping with satisfaction.

I slide up the bed, settling beside Dreads with deliberate ease. I’m a fraction taller, and I adore the way those pale grey eyes have to flick up to meet mine.

She’s frustrated, I can tell. Mad that I’ve ruined her little game.

Her eyes drift over my shoulder and land on Cheekbones. She’s measuring, sizing up the whole scene, trying to hold onto whatever control she can.

“I still see two hard cocks,” she snaps. “And I’ve only got one pussy.”

Yeah. The one I’d already claimed.

I catch the look in Cheekbones’ eyes and I know he wants it. And now the only thing standing between me and my revenge... is that big fucking cock.

“Sorry, dude,” I taunt, shooting him a wicked grin. “That pussy’s mine.”

He just laughs, climbing onto the bed beside me, eyes glittering with challenge. Then he lunges, sudden and rough, knocking me flat onto my back.

I scramble to push up on my elbows, but he is already straddling me, pinning me down.

His hand slips between us, wrapping around my cock and jerking it with quick strokes. I can’t help the way my hips snap forward into his grip.

I twist beneath him, trying to break free, but his other hand wraps firmly around my throat. Not choking. Just holding me in place.

He is bigger. Stronger. His weight is balanced perfectly to keep me caged. I can’t move.

“Nghhh.” I writhe beneath him, but it’s useless.

His hand pumps my cock fast, each stroke loud and wet. I’m drenched now and the fight is slipping from me, washed out by the heat building. Fuck. Not like this. Not like this.

“Ahhh… fuck…” I moan, body twitching under the rhythm of his stroke. I’ve got nothing left, he’s draining every ounce of resistance from me.

My eyes flutter open just long enough to catch Dreads grinning, smug and satisfied, watching me come undone.

Fuck. That. Bitch.

I grit my teeth, tense my core, and draw my legs up. My upper body’s pinned, no chance of breaking free that way, but maybe there’s another.

My feet find his cock, clumsy at first, but then they catch, wrapping around it. It’s hard to focus, but I manage to drag my soles along his length.

He groans above me, grip twitching around my throat, the rhythm of his hand stuttering.

I can barely focus, but I keep moving, working him with my feet while he jerks me off, both of us locked in this filthy standoff.

I lock eyes and flash him a half-smile. Time to get in his head.

His grip on my throat tightens just a little. He’s fighting it, but he’s crumbling.

I grind my feet around his cock, watching his expression twist like he can’t decide whether to double down on my cock or try to stop me from stroking him.

My voice drops, low and breath as I put on a show for him. “You’re making me feel so so good… Fuck, look at me, baby… look at me as I cum for you…”

His hand on my throat trembles, flickering between control and surrender.

And I smile, slow and cruel. I lunge forward, using my momentum to slam him onto his back. His eyes fly wide in shock, caught off guard by the sudden shift.

I don’t hesitate, gripping the base of his dick with one hand and stroking hard and fast with the other.

He gasps, hips bucking instinctively.

“Ohhh, you are so fucked,” I hiss, a wicked grin spreading as I feel him, ready to break.

His cock pulses in my hands as he shatters, releasing in thick, hot spurts. 

I lean in, taking him into my mouth. My lips seal tight, my tongue curling beneath the shaft as the first thick spurts of cum hit the back of my throat. I don’t stop until he’s spent and shaking, his cock softening against my tongue. Only then do I let him slip from my lips with a wet pop.

I lick my lips deliberately, letting the taste of victory smear across my tongue. It tastes good.

I glance over at Dreads. Her eyes flash with frustration, but beneath it all, I see the humiliation. She lost.

I smile wickedly.

Her throat moves as she swallows hard. That fire in her eyes? Flickering out. She’s trying to hold on, but I can see it slipping.

“Fine,” she breathes, sliding lower on the bed, hips pressing forward like she’s giving me the keys to take whatever I want.

Cheekbones is sprawled out on the bed, one arm draped over his face, trying to catch his breath and collect himself.

Muscles sits at the desk by the bed, watching us. I nod toward the box of condoms sitting there. “Hey, can you toss me one of those?”

Muscles smirks, grabbing a foil packet and flicking it across to me. He mumbles something about our privacy and pushes to his feet and disappears into the bathroom. A few seconds later, I hear the water start up.

I tear the packet open with my teeth, sliding the condom down over my cock.

Dreads is still soaked from earlier, her body warm and waiting. There’s only one thing left to do.

I press the tip of my cock against her tight opening, a soft gasp escapes her lips as she shifts beneath me, adjusting.

I lean down and plant a soft kiss on her lips and she looks surprised when I pull away, like maybe I’m not going to be a cocky asshole about this. Wrong.

I slide in slowly, enjoying how tight her pussy feels around me. After everything before, I’m already pretty close, so I keep it slow, for her sake and mine.

She moans softly, but avoids my gaze. I reach up, gripping her chin firmly and turn her face toward me as I slide deeper inside.

I lean in close, brushing my forehead against hers, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse.

“Fuck,” she whispers, voice thick with want.

I start to move, sinking deeper with each push. The tight walls of her pussy gripping me, every inch sending sparks of fire through my body. Her eyes never leave mine, like she’s begging with them to spare the humiliation of doing it aloud.

As I pick up the pace, moans start to spill out of her, soft at first, then louder and more desperate.

I don’t think either of us can handle this for long and I know exactly what I want. That stubborn voice in my head, the one that refuses to back down, the arrogant bitch that always needs the upper hand, it’s screaming at me.

I stop thrusting. Her hips are pushing against me, trying to fuck me back, but I don’t let her.

She glares at me, pissed off. I know she isn’t going to beg me to keep going, but that’s not what I want anyway.

I lean down, a wicked grin tugging at my lips.

“Apologise.”

She blinks up at me, confused.

“For what?”

“For waking me up.” I pause, dragging it out. “…And for being an arrogant bitch.”

Her whole body stiffens beneath me.

“Fuck you,” she spits, fire in her voice, but it’s shaky now, not quite hitting the mark.

I just smirk and start to pull out, inch by inch.

She glances across to see if the guys are paying attention. Muscles is still in the shower and Cheekbones still looks dead to the world. I really did a number on him.

“Wait…” she breathes, the word barely audible, like it burns to say it. “I’m sorry.”

I cock my head innocently. “Sorry for what?”

She swallows hard. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Come on,” I murmur, dragging my hips back just enough to feel her clench. “You already bent. Might as well break.”

Her cheeks flush deeper, jaw tight, eyes locked on the ceiling like she might find dignity up there.

I don’t think she’s actually going to say it, but then she does.

“…And for being an arrogant bitch.”

A dark thrill ripples through me as I sink back into her, She’s soaked, shamelessly so. Wetter than before, dripping like her cunt doesn’t care what her pride has to say.

I hum low in my throat. If I had a kink, this was it.

She turns her face to the side, biting her lip, refusing to give me anything else. Like she can hold onto whatever scrap of self respect she has left.

I start to move again. Slow at first, unhurried, like I’ve got all the time in the world. It’s not about speed.

She swallows hard, neck arching back slightly. Her legs shift, hips trying to move without giving up the illusion.

I lean in, voice a whisper against her cheek. “You’re really gonna pretend you don’t like this?”

Still no answer. So I fuck her a little deeper, a little rougher, just enough to get a reaction.

She exhales sharp through her nose, and then, finally, a sound. A breathy, angry moan, like she hates herself for needing it.

I keep going, letting my hips find a steady pulse, drawing more sounds from her, each one a little louder, a little more desperate than the last.

“You gonna cum for me?” I ask, cockily.

She nods.

I shake my head slowly.

That gets her attention.

“Oh, you can cum. But we’re doing this my way, kitten,” I say, repeating her words. “Maybe someone should teach you some manners and shut that filthy mouth.”

I reach out and snag the panties she peeled off earlier, still warm and damp in my hand. She clocks the movement and I’m sure she knows exactly what I’m about to do.

She opens her mouth to protest but I’m faster. I shove the panties into her mouth and all that comes out is a muffled sound.

“Mmmphh!”

“Are you still talking, kitten?” I sneer.

She whimpers, actually whimpers, fingertips clawing desperately at the sheets beneath us.

I don’t ease up. Instead, I clamp my hand over her mouth, muffling the needy sounds spilling out.

“You’re going to be nice and quiet for me when I make you cum. Do you understand?” I growl, grinding harder.

Any shred of pride or fight she had is buried deep beneath raw, desperate lust burning in her eyes.

She nods.

That does it for me. 

…And clearly for her too.

I feel the familiar tremor ripple through her body, the tight grip of her muscles as she teeters on the edge. Her muffled whimpers turn into ragged gasps beneath my hand. Her hips jerk hard against me, pleading for release.

Her pussy clenches around me as she lets go, her body convulsing in messy waves. She’s cumming uncontrollably, hips bucking desperately, her breath ragged through the panties in her mouth.

I slam deep into her with a groan, burying myself to the hilt as I cum inside her. Her legs lock around me, heels digging into my back, forcing me deeper as her hips grind into my own.

Her chest rises fast against mine, breath trembling through her nose, the panties still stuffed in her mouth as she moans through the final aftershocks.

I stay buried in her, cock twitching as the last of it leaves me, our bodies tangled in a hot, dripping mess.

I’m suddenly aware of how ridiculous she looks with her panties stuffed into her mouth, flushed cheeks, dazed eyes, mouth stretched full of lace. It satisfies me in a different way. It probably burns for her in a different way too.

I stay there a moment longer, breathing her in, then press a soft kiss to her cheek before pulling out and reaching for my sleep pants.

The bathroom door opens. Muscles steps out, towelling his long hair.

“This was fun,” I smirk, grabbing my lighter from off the desk. “But next time you wake me up, I’ll find creative new ways to shut you up.”

I glance at Cheekbones, still sprawled across the bed. “And I’ll fuck your pretty little twink ass.”

Then I point at Muscles on my way to the door. “While I make you watch.”

The door clicks behind me as I step into the corridor and head to my room.

Mara stirs when I slip in, eyes half-lidded, voice thick with sleep. “You hearing noises again?”

“Yeah,” I say, tugging off my shirt like it’s nothing. “Think I fixed it.” Or broke it.

She yawns, already turning over. “Good,” she mumbles, immediately drifting off once more.