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My body trembled as I nodded. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything. Desire and need made my head spin. If I didn’t have him soon, I was going to lose my mind. “Fuck my brains out, Drake. Do it.”
Without another word, he thrust his hips forward, and every inch of his massive cock slipped into my dripping wet cunt. My eyes rolled back in my head as he crashed his hips into my ass and fucked me. He wasn’t gentle, which was exactly what I wanted. My body shook with each thrust. Drake slid his hands around my chest, clutching my breasts through my sweatshirt. He squeezed roughly at them, and I almost came again from the twinge of pain when he pinched my nipples.
“Give it to me. Fuck me with that big hard cock. Shoot your cum into me.” I murmured the words between gasps and moans of pleasure.
I watched us in the mirror. Drake stared at me intently as he slammed his dick into me. Our eyes met, and the connection was intense. He didn’t look away, and we kept our gaze locked on each other as his cock continued to glide in and out of me in ever-quickening harder thrusts.
“I’m gonna come,” he whispered, still looking me in the eyes through the mirror.
All I could do was nod; my mouth was hanging open, unable to speak, as my second orgasm was building to a crescendo. Finally, Drake crashed into me twice more and grunted in ecstasy as he came, burying himself inside me and grinding against my ass as he spurted his cum into me. Like an exquisite explosion, my climax came. Bursting stars flashed across my vision as a trembling wave of rapture cascaded from my pussy over the rest of my body. This time my legs did give way, but Drake wrapped his strong arms around me, holding me up, keeping his delicious cock inside me, and preventing me from sliding to the floor in a puddle. It was the best day of my life.
Chapter 23
I awoke the next day in my room still feeling like I was high as a kite. The excitement of everything that had happened the day before was equally as powerful as it’d been when it all happened. I’d taken control of my life and enjoyed it. It was as though a cover or blanket had been thrown off, and I could finally, after all these years, be who I really was.
Along with that newfound power and agency, the thoughts of rebellion and escape had come back in full force. If I could do what I’d done yesterday, then anything was possible. We could get out of here. I knew we could, but I needed more than Payton. I needed Drake. If I could get him to believe, then the others would fall in line. He commanded the respect of everyone else. He’d been here the longest, yes, but he was also more controlled and calm than the others. We all looked to him for guidance, and if he told the others we had a chance, then it was almost a guarantee that they’d agree.
My chance came that afternoon when Drake and I were assigned to make lunch for everyone. It was the first time we’d cooked together, and for several minutes we worked in silence. I wanted to talk about the fact that we’d fucked our brains out yesterday, but at the moment I had more pressing things to bring up.
Drake was chopping onions as I cooked ground beef. It appeared we were having tacos from the ingredients and listed steps. Building enough courage, I leaned close to him and whispered as quietly as possible, “Can I say something?”
Drake didn’t pause his movements; he kept chopping away as he answered. “Sure.”
“What we talked about the other day? Rebellion? I know what you said, but I think we should. If we can get everyone—”
“Dahlia—”
“To work together, find a way to get the bracelets off and break out, we could have a chance.”
Still moving mechanically on the food, Drake shook his head. “That’s a terrible idea.”
Weeks ago, if someone had shot down a thought or idea I had, I would’ve collapsed in on myself. Shut down and shut up. Before coming here, I’d been one small step from falling apart every day. Here? I’d done awful things and lived to tell about it. I’d done things ninety-nine percent of humanity couldn’t even comprehend. A man saying my idea was terrible was nothing compared to cutting chunks of flesh off of a screeching person.
Still stirring the meat, I said, “Why? How is it terrible?”
“Because, Dahlia, you forget, I’m the first. I’ve been here since the beginning, at least the beginning of this current cycle or whatever. Maybe he’s done this before and everyone did what you’re talking about. Tried to rebel, so he killed them all and started over with me. I’ve thought about that a lot, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve seen a lot of people die trying to fight back.”
We both hissed in pain as we received a shock from our cuff.
Bong. “Housemates shouldn’t whisper,” Sam said over the speakers.
So he couldn’t hear exactly what we were saying. If he had, I was sure the shock would’ve been stronger, or we’d have been sent to our rooms. Now he knew we were talking secretively, and he’d be watching closer. Defeat descended on me as I continued cooking. All my hope and adrenaline faded. It was too hard to get my point across with having to worry about who was eavesdropping on us.
Drake and I worked in silence the rest of the time. We shared a few furtive looks at each other, but neither of us was willing to break the rules again. This had been a flop. Part of me wished I could start over, and try a different tactic, but I’d have to wait for a better chance later.
That night at dinner, Payton was more anxious and upset than I’d seen him the day before. He’d been fitted with his own cuff. While we ate, he kept digging at it, scratching under the band, tugging and yanking at the strap, almost like he was gauging how difficult it would be to tear off. I was taking a bite of food when his device buzzed. Payton glanced at it in surprise and was obviously reading a message on the small screen.
He looked up and laughed. “Nope. Not gonna happen,” he said to the ceiling, like he spoke directly to Sam.
We all froze and looked at him. Liam raised an eyebrow. “Did you get an order?”
Payton, ignoring him, went back to yanking and pulling at the wristband of the cuff. He managed to get two of his fingers under the band and jerked as hard as he could. Veins stood out on his neck as his face went red from exertion. I could see a small tear in the flesh of his arm as the band dug in hard, and a small droplet of blood appeared.
He yelped as he was given an electric shock. His hand pulled away instinctively at the pain. Hissing, he snatched a knife off the table and tried to dig the blade under the band. Before he got halfway there, he howled in agony, and I could even hear the buzz of electricity as he was given a massive shock.
The knife tumbled from his hands as he fell backward onto the floor, writhing in pain. Sam wasn’t stopping the punishment. Payton jerked and spasmed. My memories of how bad it was when I was shocked for not killing Kaden came roaring back. I pushed my chair away from the table and went to stand, but with a vice-like grip, Drake grabbed my thigh and held me still.
Jerking around to look at him, he gave me a slow shake of the head. I wanted to argue, to shove his hand away and go help Payton, but before I could, the punishment stopped. Payton’s body sank, finally released from the electric current, but he was sucking in shallow breaths, and his eyes remained closed. He’d been knocked out by the pain the same way I had.
