Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,153

Callum reaches around for my clit, slicking his thumb in circles around the hardened nub. Digging my fingernails into the floor, I move against him, drawing those velvety sounds from his throat, the ones that are both hard and soft, all at the same time. It’s as if the voice Cal would’ve had if he hadn’t been beaten so severely, and the voice he has now are intertwined, inextricably tied together.

He gives me my first orgasm of the night, a brief shuddering of muscles and a choking gasp that falls from my throat as I try and fail to stay upright, crashing forward into Hael’s lap as the last shocks of pleasure overtake me. Hael holds me there while Callum finishes inside of me, my silken inner muscles pulsing and bringing him to climax the way centuries of evolution have taught men to do.

Primal. Basic. Animalistic.

We are all of those things, but we’re also so much more. There is so much fucking more to the Havoc Boys and me. It’s inexplicable. Impossible to recreate. This is one of those once in a lifetime—once in a handful of lifetimes—moments.

Cal slumps back, and I sit up, and then Vic is beckoning me like I’m being summoned to his throne room. His dark gaze sweeps the other boys, reminding them that the reason they’re so confused when he says that I belong to him, is because they’ve forgotten that they, too, also belong to him.

His pack. His wolves. His Havoc.

Victor takes me in his arms and sweeps his big hand into my hair, crushing my mouth to his in a flurry of sparks and light and heat, like an electrical storm on a warm, summer night when lightning crashes and rain pours. It’s like, Vic is the incoming elemental impact I never knew I needed. A force of nature.

He adjusts his grip to my ass, taking both cheeks in his greedy fingers, and then he moves to impale me on that massive dick of his, sinking me down until we’re fully joined together. Our eyes lock, our breathing quickens. I don’t even have to move because Vic is more than happy to do the work, rocking my hips with his hands, bringing his pelvis up off the floor to thrust into me.

And then, as if in the midst of a miracle, Victor invites the remaining gods in his court to join us. He lies back on the floor with me on top of him, straddling his cock and rolling my hips in search of more please. More, more, more. It’s all I can think about right now.

Sweat streaks my curvy, inked body as Aaron presses up close behind me, slipping his fingers into my mouth and encouraging me to suck and lip and nibble before he moves them to my ass. He inserts one and then the other, letting out a ragged moan against the side of my throat that has me bucking and writhing atop Vic, my nails digging into his chest.

For his part, our king holds onto my hips, gripping me tight, claiming me even as he deigns to share me. Even as he deigns to share his boys. Because, let’s be honest, that’s what he’s doing: sharing them with me. They were his first. He wrangled them, claimed them, marked them, even before I was a part of any of it. Sure, I was the catalyst, but I wasn’t truly a member of Havoc until he set that fucking crown on the top of my bloodied head.

Aaron warms my opening with those two fingers, groaning against my ear and then biting it sharply enough that I cry out and my cunt locks around Vic, making him grunt. We’ve been here before, the three of us, with Vic’s and Aaron’s positions reversed. Still, the wonder and awe in Aaron’s voice catches me right in the heart, as if this is brand-new all over again. “I can feel him inside of you, Bernie,” Aaron whispers, and I’m reminded of Cal remarking on the same thing, about how he could feel his cock with his fingers. “I can feel him.”

“Do you hate it?” I whisper, the movements of my hips slowing momentarily, my gaze still on Victor’s. He can hear what we’re saying, every word of it. He waits patiently, a smirk building on his face as his purple-dark hair falls across his forehead and fans against the dusty old floorboards of a long-forgotten house. A house that’s going to be ours, that’s