The Dark One (Vicious Lost Boys Book 2)

After my bath, I wrap a throw blanket around my shoulders and curl into the wingback by the open windows and listen to the ocean down below. The room is dark save for the slant of moonlight. The air is cool on my bare legs as I prop my feet on the window sill.

I must fall asleep at some point, because I wake with a jolt later, and the ocean has quieted to a soft lapping against the pebbled beach.

Beyond the room, I hear girls laughing and a dark thing curls in my belly.

I toss the blanket aside and go to the closed bedroom door and set my ear to the cool wood.

There are definitely girls out there. I hear the distinct rumble of Kas and Bash talking.

Did they really banish me to my room and then decide to throw a party in my absence?

The rage that burbles up my throat is raw and sharp.

What was it Peter Pan said the other night? No one was allowed to touch me. He thinks he’s claimed me like some kind of possession? That he can do what he pleases with me with no consequences for himself?

Of course the Never King thinks the rules don’t apply to him.

Kas told me to stay in my room until they told me to come out, but I’m not a fucking prisoner here. Not anymore.

I yank the door open and follow the slide of golden light from the hallway to the loft.

Smoke curls in the air. Pixie bugs glitter in the branches of the Never Tree amongst the sleeping, warbling parakeets.

And dotted around the room, and on the lap of Peter Pan, are a handful of pretty girls.

If I had to guess, they’re mostly my age, though being that they’re on the island, it’s hard to say if they’re mortal age or immortal. I still don’t know how that all works. Who ages and who doesn’t. Maybe no one does here. Maybe they’re all trapped in time like a bug in a drop of ancient sap.

The room goes quiet when I come to a stop on the other side of the sectional couch.

The twins look up at me. There are several girls between them on the couch, but no one is touching. Vane is in one of the leather chairs, a book open between his hands. He barely gives me notice. A cigarette dangles from between his lips.

Peter Pan is in the chair beside Vane, a blonde girl on his lap. The girl regards me like I’m a piece of trash the ocean vomited to its shores.

Pan and I lock eyes.

His face tightens as we take the measure of one another.

I narrow my gaze at him, trying to slow my breathing and the elevated thump of my heart.

He doesn’t have his shadow yet. He’s not all powerful. Which means if I want to make a stand, now is the time, and there is a sudden, urgent need to get back at him for making my stomach knot up like it is, for making me feel like a territorial bitch even though I have no claim to any of them.

And maybe he’s doing it on purpose. Maybe he wants to see what I’ll do.

There is a barely perceptible uptick in his expression, a slight curl to his mouth as he senses the shift in my demeanor.

It’s now or never.

I dart for the stairs.

Pan tosses the girl from his lap, and she protests in a high-pitched yelp before she hits the floor with a thud.

I feel him at my back giving chase, and goosebumps rise along my arms.

He’s bigger than me, longer-legged and definitely faster. But I’ve spent enough time in old houses to know how to use them as I need.

When I reach the staircase, I tuck my dress under my ass and sit on the railing, then slide down its length.

When Pan tries to snatch me, he misses me by an inch and I leap to the ground floor a second later.

He takes several steps down before abandoning that idea and puts his hand to the railing, hoisting himself over it.

I’m already running. Already designing my revenge.

There’s a fire crackling in the bonfire pit and over a dozen Lost Boys gathered around it. I pick the first one I see, leap into his arms, wrap my legs around his waist and mash my lips against his.

This isn’t about pleasure.

It’s about making a point. Unfortunately for the Lost Boy.

He goes rigid beneath me.

It doesn’t take Pan long to catch up and wrench me away.

The Lost Boy blinks up at us, wide-eyed, his face devoid of blood. “Sorry, Never King. I didn’t want to touch her. She just came at me!”

Pan rights me. “The fuck are you doing?”

“The fuck are you doing?”

“They’re not allowed to touch you,” he says and points vaguely at the Lost Boys. “They know that. You know that.”

I cross my arms over my chest and cock out a hip. “They’re not allowed to touch me,” I say, “but you never mentioned me touching them. Based on that rule, I can touch all I want and I plan to. If you get to touch, I get to touch.”

From the balcony, Kas and Bash snort their laughter.

Pan fumes. “Let’s discuss this upstairs.”

“No.”

“No?”

The only sound is the crackling of the fire, the shudder of the palm fronds in the slight ocean breeze.

“No?” he repeats.

The Lost Boy I mauled takes a step back. The others haven’t moved an inch.

Pan regards me like a naughty child. And then he’s suddenly hoisting me over his shoulder in a fit of déjà vu.

“I’m not your property!” I yell and pummel his backside.

Of course, it’s no use. Peter Pan is nothing but lean muscle and rock-solid hubris. He carts me up the stairs, barely noticing my fists against his muscular back.

When we pass the twins on the balcony, I push up. “Help me?”

“Sorry, Darling,” Bash says with a devilish grin. “You got yourself into this one.”

I deflate and hang limp as Pan carries me into the house. When we come into the loft, he snaps his fingers loudly and says, “Get the fuck out of here.”

The girls scurry away, heels clomping down the main staircase.

Pan drops me into one of the leather chairs and points at me, silver rings glinting beneath the golden glow of the room. “I’m in no fucking mood.”

“Funny, I wasn’t in the mood to come out of my room and find some Neverland whore on your lap.”

When he sits in the chair next to me, he scowls and spreads out his long legs. He puts a cigarette between his lips and opens a lighter with a snap of his fingers.

Once the flame is to the end, the paper and tobacco ignite and Pan takes a long pull.

The lighter snaps shut.

Smoke curls like the bands in an agate.

After he’s exhaled, he props his elbow on the arm of the chair, the cigarette captured between his first two knuckles. He looks at me, blue eyes glittering in the light.

I’m hot and cold at once.

I wanted his attention and now I have it.

“I am a straightforward man,” he says. “I don’t like to play games. If you have something to say to me, Darling, say it to my face.”

I breathe out through my nose.

What do I want to say? And how the hell do I say it? I’ll admit, I didn’t really have a plan beyond making him regret touching another girl.

But I guess that’s the heart of it, isn’t it? So best just to say it.

“I don’t want to share.”

He narrows his eyes.

“If I’m not allowed to touch anyone else, then neither are you.”

Pan runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. His eyes never leave my face and the weight of his gaze has me rubbing my thighs together to stave off some of the buzzing between my legs.

“We are four very hungry men. Do you really think you’re capable of keeping up with our appetites?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

His gaze turns dark and dangerous and I think maybe he knew where this was leading all along. He drew the map and I followed the X right into his trap.

“Then show me,” he says.

“How?”

“You want all four of us, then get on your knees and put that mouth to work. Show me you can be our little Darling whore.”

The buzzing intensifies and my clit swells to a needy bud.

Well, fine then. He wants a performance, he’s going to get one.

I stand. He takes another long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke leak out past his lips in a dense cloud before sucking it back in.

I’m tight and taut and more excited than I should be.

I move to sink to the floor in front of him but he shakes his head just once. “Twins first. I want to watch you choke on them.”

The hard edge of his words is meant to frighten me off, but if that’s his plan, he doesn’t know me very well. Because my stomach is full of wings and my pussy is throbbing.

I suspect if the Never King orders the fae princes to fuck my mouth till I cry, they will.

I suspect if they do, I’ll like it.

When I turn for the twins, Bash already has his cock in hand as if he’s been waiting for this all night.

I cross the room and sink between his legs, the rough-spun rug biting into my knees. Bash fists himself, stroking long and slow. Pre-cum already glistens on the head of his dick and he rubs it off with the pad of his thumb, then wipes it across my bottom lip.

There is an answering thrill in my pussy as I swipe my tongue over the sweetness.

“I’ve had that naughty little cunt twice,” he says. “I will enjoy having your mouth too.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” I challenge.

He groans deep in his chest, then takes a fistful of my hair and shoves me down around him.

The size of him in my mouth takes me by surprise and the air gets stuck in my throat as I try to adjust.

Bash rocks his hips forward as he drives me down on him, the head of his shaft hitting the back of my throat. I gag. He pulls out and I suck in a deep breath.

Pan says behind me, “Don’t go easy on her, Bash. She wanted it, make her take it.”

“Who am I to deny what the king demands?” Bash nudges me back, then rises to his feet. He slaps me in the face with his cock and I gasp in surprise.

“Don’t stop, Darling. Go on.” He’s smiling at me, amber eyes bright.

I reposition and wrap my lips around him, bobbing up and down on him. He buries his hand in my hair and yanks hard on it as he guides me deeper.

“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Look at me.”

I crane my head so I can meet his gaze and the dark satisfaction glittering in his eyes makes my belly soar and my clit throb.

I wish he was touching me. I wish his brother was fucking me. I wish…I wish…

“Just like that, Darling.”

He pumps his hips, driving into me.

“Fuck, yeah.”

I can’t catch my breath and tears spring in my eyes as he hits the back of my throat. I breathe out quickly through my nose, trying to accommodate him, trying not to choke.

“Fuck, Darling.”

The whole time, I can feel Pan’s gaze on me, drinking me in.

There is something deeply exciting about being a show.

Bash pumps faster, fucking my mouth in a way that’s more punishing than anything.

And when he finally spills inside of me, cum blooming on my tongue, I breathe in deeply, trying not to break until he’s emptied himself. I’m shaking and hot and flustered and horny as hell.

Bash angles me up as he pulls out of my mouth. “Did you swallow it? Let me see, Darling.”

I stick out the flat of my tongue.

Of course I swallowed it. I’m no slouch.

“Good girl,” he says and then bends down to kiss me, long and deep, his tongue sliding over mine. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine and says, “I fucking needed that more than you’ll ever know.”

“Maybe I needed it more than you did.”

He chuckles to himself. “You’re about to get more than you need. Kas,” he says and straightens. “Get me some rope.”

There is the thud of Kas’s footsteps as he disappears and when he returns, there’s a length of rope in his hands. It takes Bash less than two seconds to have my arms behind my back and tied at the wrists.

Bash stays at my back and keeps the tail of the rope in one hand while his other wraps around my throat. “Your turn, brother,” he says.

Kas is already hard, but he hesitates, taking me in, bound and positioned for him.

My stomach is full of butterflies and my lips are wet and swollen. I can still taste Bash’s cum on the tip of my tongue, but if this were a feast, I’ve only just had a taste.

Bash yanks the rope up, arching my body, forcing my chest out. I’m still wearing my dress, but it has a low collar and when Kas comes over to me, he runs his finger along the stitching and goosebumps bloom from my chest, beading my nipples.

He eyes the taut nubs through the material.

“Do you like to be used, Darling?” he asks, as if the answer matters.

Does it? No one has ever cared what I wanted.

“That’s a complicated question,” I say.

“Give me your best answer.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I close my eyes as his hand drifts lower, his clever fingers teasing at my nipple through the material. I hiss out as an answering thrill dips to my pussy.

“Because it makes me feel good.”

“And?”

He moves to my other breast, pinches my nipple hard, and new wetness seeps into my panties.

“And it makes me feel less alone.”

Tears burn in my eyes, catching me off guard.

That was more than I wanted to admit. More truth than I’m comfortable with.

I don’t want to be alone anymore.

Kas undoes his belt and the zipper bites loudly as it opens up tooth by tooth.

His cock strains against the dark material of his underwear. If I had use of my hands, I’d be helping him in earnest.

I’ve only had Kas once and that was after Pan had me over the table, while his twin fucked me from behind.

There was no time to pay attention.

Kas is bigger than Bash. Bigger than Pan too, I’d guess. Hard to say how he measures up against Vane.

I don’t know if I can take all of Kas in my mouth.

Bash repositions his hand around my throat and angles me just right like I’m the stage and he the director, Kas our golden performer.

My heart is hammering in my eardrums.

My stomach is in knots.

I can do this. I can take the sheer size of him. I will take him.

He rubs the head of his dick over my lips and I dart out my tongue to meet him, causing him to groan deep in his chest. The feral sound of it sends a thrill down to my pussy.

He wants to linger, but I can already tell there’s no time for that.

Dragging his thumb over my bottom lip, he dips into my mouth, making me suck him. “I might be fooling myself,” he says, his eyes hooded, his voice hoarse. “Perhaps with you, Darling, there is only desperation.”

And then he drives his dick into my mouth.