Page 14 of Monstrous Serpent

“Why? This is so much fun. Don’t you like being hugged?” My best friend cinches his arms tighter.

I press my palm into the dirt and push up to one knee just as Jenkins throws his head back into Atlas's face. My best friend drops the little hockey player.

“Fuck.” Atlas shoves his hand under his mask. “Okay. Ow.”

Jenkins tackles him, and they go down. Jenkins sits on Atlas's chest, knees pinned under his armpits, both hands wrapped around my best friend’s throat.

Atlas laughs.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Jenkins squeezes harder.

“Lots of things. You got a few hours, or no?” Atlas grabs Jenkins's wrists, but he doesn't pull them off. “You squeeze like shit, by the way.”

I'm on my feet. Every step sends a sick pulse through my groin.

Jenkins turns and spots me. His eyes widen, and he moves to run. But Atlas grabs his ankle, yanking it back. Jenkins collapses onto his hands and knees, fingers clawing the dirt.

I move faster. Don’t want the little hockey player getting away again.

Luckily, my best friend must think the same because he rolls onto his knees, positioning himself behind Jenkins. Atlas reaches forward and grabs a fistful of Jenkins's dirty blond hair, wrenching the little Titan’s head back.

Jenkins huffs out a breath, his spine curving, hips pushing back.

Atlas bucks.

My feet stop, tongue pressing against the inside of my cheek.

I breathe in through my nose. Out through my mouth.

Didn’t think the little Titan would be our plaything for the night. Didn’t expect Atlas to pick him.

Or anyone.

But he did.

I close the distance, stopping right in front of Jenkins. His eyes flick up, mouth hanging open, fingers digging into the dirt like he’s trying to hold himself in place.

My attention shifts to Atlas. He’s white-knuckling Jenkins’s hair, his chest rising and falling too fast, too heavy.

He looks up at me, and I give a small nod.

That same deep, guttural whine drags out of him again.

I reach down, replacing his hand with mine. My fingers twist into Jenkins’s damp hair and tighten.

Jenkins growls, reaching up with one hand and placing it over mine. “Get your hands off me before I break—”

“That mouth needs to be stuffed.” I grind my hips forward, my cock pressing against his mouth, muffling whatever he was going to say.

“Oh, fuuuck.” Atlas bucks.

Jenkins pushes harder into me, whatever sound he makes vibrating through my jeans.

I grunt and grind my aching cock against his face. “Bet you want to choke on it.”

His eyelids flutter, a high-pitched squeak escaping him.

Atlas bucks again and, this time, Jenkins locks up. He makes no sound, his eyes rolling up, then his entire body shudders.