CHAPTER NINE

Runner's high.

Yeah, right.

It's a beautiful morning. I've just finished a ten-mile run on the treadmill.

My sneakers pounded loudly with how fast I went. My fingers tapped the display over and over as I upped the speed and incline every five minutes. Drops of sweat cascaded down my neck and back with the effort.

I'm supposed to be euphoric. Coasting high on endorphins.

Yeah, right.

Last night's memories should be wiped out from my mind.

Yeah. Right.

The memories didn't go away. They're here. In my bathroom. Stronger than ever.

I'm so hard, it's a fucking agony.

The things Carter and Amara did don't go away. Won't go away.

I've never seen Carter take Amara like that. Using both her holes. Blindfolding her with my tie when he fucked her.

Saying my name.

I fucking heard that. Every last word.

My eyes slam shut, and I shake my head. My sweat-soaked hair clings to my forehead and I push it up my head.

Playing the way they fucked—the things they said—in my head, is wrong. On so many levels.

Carter was Joelle's newborn when I took them in.

I was the one who showed Carter how to shave. Taught him how to drive. Explained to him it's okay to beat the shit out of bullies.

Threatened his teachers that if they gave him a detention one more time, I'd give them one of my own. In a classroom six feet under.

For fuck's sake, I was the one who grabbed his wrist when he'd stab at the rug beneath his bed. While most kids were afraid of the monsters under their beds, Carter ‘slayed' them so he could hang their insides on his walls.

He'd been a twisted little kid. I'd been that kid's father figure.

He's not a kid anymore.

I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. It isn't sick to want to be with an adult. It just isn't. Neither is Amara. She looked my way, while he fucked her. Whether she saw me or not, I can't tell. In any case, she wasn't disgusted by Carter's words. Didn't tell him to shut up.

My clothes are dropped into the leather hamper next to my vanity. Housekeeping will be here tomorrow to wash them. Carter's and Amara's as well.

Fuck, their names alone have my cock thickening.

I return to the one thought that never fails to sober me. The thought that's kept me from coming onto Carter sooner. When I started have different feelings for him.

They'll say I've been grooming him. I haven't. Fucking ever. No one will be able to prove that lie.

But it won't stop our members and enemies from whispering. Making up false rumors about shit I didn't do to Carter when he was underage. They'll turn everyone against us.

Our power would mean nothing once these floodgates open. Carter's future will be tainted. Ruined. Our lives would be on the line.

Those sobering thoughts aren't helping. They fuck with my head worse.

Moreover since my cock doesn't give a damn about grooming or the future. I still hear Carter grunting my name. Still see Amara coming with both her holes filled.

I'll have to rub this one out.

I step into my large shower, sliding the glass doors closed behind me. My dick throbs, begging for relief. I turn the knob on the hot water and stand beneath the ceiling-mounted showerhead.

The spray washes over my head, my shoulders, my aching thighs. Steam billows all around me, obstructing my view of the veiny black and white marble walls.

The hot water spray scalds my skin. My fist closes on my aching cock.

"Fuck," I hiss. I forgot to lock the door to my bedroom. I'm not alone here.

Amara's waiting in Carter's bedroom, their bedroom, for me to drop her off at work since he's gone. He had to mediate between a drug dealer and his failed cleaner. It's a meeting I scheduled for him to lead by himself to show he doesn't need to hold my hand, something I do every once in a while.

He texted me two hours ago when he left, asking me to help out. Said he doesn't want anyone seeing Amara leaving our apartment and that if she asks, tell her we don't want her leaving the shop after dark by herself. That will be our excuse.

I agreed. Of course, I fucking agreed.

Last night wasn't mentioned by either of us.

Last night meant nothing.

My angry erection stares back at me, insisting it wasn't, in fact, nothing.

Carter's room is on the first floor. One below me. Amara has no reason to come in here, nor will she hear me behind the door and the shower spray.

Besides, it's not like I have a choice. The alternative is spending a car ride looking like this.

I'll just have to be quick.

My eyes pinch shut, my hand slams into the wall.

Behind my closed lids, I see them. Amara and Carter.

In my fantasy, Amara lies on her back. Her head hangs on the edge of the bed facing the door. Carter's on top of her, fucking her on her back.

I'm standing, hovering over her. Naked. Jerking off to them, getting off to the sounds of their moans and groans. To the slippery sounds of his cock filling Amara over and over and over.

His piercing glints every time he pulls out, only to slam back harder into her. I run my tongue over my bottom lip, wondering how it'd feel in my mouth.

Looking between Amara's brown eyes to Carter's gray ones, I beat off to a slow, measured rhythm. Taking them in. Carter's ripped chest, the hint of a smirk on his lips. Amara's breasts, her nipple ring, the way her pussy sucks Carter in.

Jealousy doesn't belong in this fantasy. Here, we're together. We belong.

"You want to fuck her?" Carter drives harder into Amara, his abs flexing with the effort. "Want to feel how tight her pussy is?"

"Please." Amara reaches her hand up for my cock.

I slap it away.

"Beautiful girl." A smirk tugs at my lips, stretching wider, as I watch the blush creeping up her neck. I grab a fistful of one of her tits, the pierced one, and twist. "Beautiful and fucking greedy."

My gaze moves from her face, down her belly to her thighs. Carter's on his knees and has both his hands on them, gripping them tight. His dick is slick, Amara's arousal dripping all over it.

Fuck.

"You have a gorgeous fucking cock, Killian," Carter groans, picking up the pace. "Right, pet?"

"So gorgeous." She tilts her head up, her hooded eyes fixated on me fucking my fist. "I wish he'd put it in me. Deep. Make it hurt. Make me cry."

"You see?" he says behind clenched teeth. "She wants it. I want you to put it in her."

The words hit Amara harder than Carter's cock. She clenches around him, screaming and moaning as her body shudders with her climax.

My stepson's jaw tics, the veins in his biceps pumping.

"Please," she begs again.

"Do it," Carter says, eliminating the last of my doubts.

"Tongue out, Amara." I pin my thighs to the bed, aiming my cock to her lips. "This dirty mouth is going to get fucked for all the filthy words coming out of it."

"Yes," is her last word before she obeys my order.

Watching her part her lips for me turns the itch inside into a wildfire.

I'm not gentle as I grab a fistful of her hair. Not concerned about her gagging when I shove myself inside her. I take her. Fucking own her while Carter beats her pussy with his cock.

"Fuck," I groan once I've deepthroated her.

In my shower—in the real world—I jerk off harder. Faster. Needing her mouth and knowing my hand will never be enough.

"Such a good little whore you are." Carter's mix of degradation and praise has her moaning on my cock. "Getting railed like this. So fucking pretty." He looks up, his gray eyes sparkling. "Both of you."

"Shut up and fuck her."

As if we've been practicing it forever, we move in perfect unison. There's no awkwardness as our bodies and Amara's fall into a steady, harsh rhythm.

I twist and pull on her pierced nipple. He spits on her clit and calls her our good little slut.

The beautiful thing she is, she takes it. Her throat makes the most delicious sounds, tears run down her cheeks, saliva on her cheeks.

But it's not enough.

Carter is too goddamn far from me.

Halting my thrusts, I order him, "Come here."

My command reverberates on the walls of his bedroom. There's no mistaking the unhinged edge of his smirk.

"Come here?" He pulls out of Amara's pussy, his glistening cock bobbing between his thighs.

I pull out too, giving Amara some air. She hums when I stroke her cheek. Rub her swollen lips. Look deep into her hooded eyes.

"You really are a beautiful girl." I yank on her hair, despite the gentle praise. "Needy and desperate. Good thing you have us."

"More," she moans, her voice hoarse from the deep throat fucking.

"Soon, greedy girl." Only once I see she's okay do I return to Carter. "And you. Turn around on all fours, and come on top of her. Lick her pussy. Make her come again."

My cock thickens. Throbs in my hand. I groan in the shower, unable to hold it in anymore.

He does as I say, bringing his perfect, toned ass to my face.

Amara sighs, gazing at me with dreamy eyes and a soft smile.

I glare down at her. "Do I look finished?"

Silence.

Carter stops licking her pussy to spank it. "Answer him."

"No," she whispers.

"That's right. I'm not done." Letting go of her hair, I hold onto the base of my cock. I'm soaked in her saliva, smearing it on her lips, nose, in the space between her eyes.

Her pleasure sounds reach all the way to my balls.

I push my cock against her lips and she wraps her lips around me, letting me inside her.

"Now, suck me."

I thrust deeper when she starts, then lean forward and slip my hand around Carter's cock. He's wet with her arousal, and my hand slides on his thick, veiny dick as I jack him off. As I flick my thumb on his piercing.

Being with them is every bit as perfect as I imagined. I have both of them. Kinky and wrong and absolutely right in my hand.

"Oh, fuck yes," he curses.

"I said eat her out, Carter." I squeeze his throbbing head, pinching the piercing. "Don't stop."

His pained growl and her willing mouth nearly push me over the edge. I'm close to blowing my load down Amara's throat.

"Yes." Carter does as I say, his black hair falling and hiding the top of his eyes. He moans into her pussy. She moans around me.

"Come." My last restraint is about to snap. "Both of you, come."

My command has the three of us making it to the finish line together. I feel his cum shoot out on my hand. She moans and screams as she gags on my cock, swallowing every fucking drop.

Back in my shower, I can't stay quiet. I'm loud when white, sticky spurts of my cum shoot on my stomach, then wash down the drain with the water.

Slowly, I regain my sanity.

Slowly, the self-loathing returns.

How deeply, thoroughly, fucked do I have to be to have all these sick scenarios in my head?

I grab the shampoo, lathering it into my hair harder than necessary.

I've been repressing my desires for them, acting like a grumpy asshole around her and stricter around him. For good reason. These fantasies are wrong.

It's an abomination, the things I want to do to them. The people I want to have.

I'm not going anywhere near their room ever again. If Amara's screams will actually be those of pain next time, Carter is more than capable of looking after her. Protecting her.

Saving her like I wish I could.

I'm not a part of this. Never have, never will be.

Knock, knock, knock.I hear from the door to my bedroom.

"Killian? Are we leaving soon?"

Amara.

I sigh in relief.

Talk about perfect timing.