Our Broken Pieces - M.E. Clayton Page 0,18

her body, grabbed her hips, and sat her on the edge of the counter. Her face was full of future regret and mortification. I was going to fuck her in this bathroom, at her best friend’s birthday party, and everyone was going to know it. Worse, she was going to let me, knowing what the outcome could result in. She knew there was a good chance she’d be walking out of here a shattered mess, but she wasn’t going to stop me.

I reached for her panties and she used the flat of her hands to lift her ass up off the counter high enough for me to pull the underwear down. Normally, I’d rip the fuckers off, but I’d be goddamned if she was going to walk around this party without underwear where other guys could smell her. Sure, she would smell like me, but that didn’t matter. All anyone needed to know was that Mystic belonged to me. They didn’t need to know the details.

I tossed her panties on the counter next to her and went to work on my jeans. As soon as they were pushed down, along with my boxers, I grabbed the back of Mystic’s thighs, raised them up and out, and slammed my cock home.

Jesus fucking Christ.

My hands came up as Mystic wrapped her legs around my back and I gripped her hair on either side of her face so hard, she winced. I could see a quiet tear leak down her face, and it just tuned me on more. I always felt too much when I was with Mystic and those feelings, the ones that couldn’t be contained, made it hard for me not to pull her hair clean from her scalp. It was those feelings that had me slamming into her without a care for how uncomfortable this must all be for her.

Being inside Mystic Anderson drove me crazy. No. That’s not true. I was already crazy. Being inside Mystic drove me to absolute insanity.

“I’ll kill him if he ever comes near you again, Mystic,” I panted, and it wasn’t an empty threat. Mystic was vital to me in a way she’ll never comprehend.

“Gage…” she cried out.

My thrusts were painful, and she shouldn’t be enjoying this, but I knew she was. Mystic was just as twisted as I was, and our coupling was a dance of madness. I reached down to grab her hip with my left hand as I held her head firm with my right hand. Both hands dug in painfully as I demanded things from her she wasn’t obligated to give me. “You’re mine, Mystic,” I grunted. “Say it.”

Tears were streaming down her face, and I knew she was hurting, but I also knew she was getting ready to cum. I knew Mystic in ways no one else ever would. “Gage-”

“Fucking say it!”

“Yours,” she sobbed. “I’m yours.”

“I better not ever see another guy around you again, Mystic. I swear to God I’ll fucking kill him.”

Mystic’s hands shot up and twisted in my shirt as she came all over my dick. “Gage!”

I lasted long enough to see her through her twisted orgasm before I emptied myself inside her precious body. I untangled my hand from her hair and held both her hips in my hands as I stayed planted firmly inside her. I watch silently as shame shadowed her face and I fell in love with her all over again. I’ve never said the words, but she had to know what I felt for her.

“Gage, I-”

“We’re going to walk out of here together, Mystic,” I said, interrupting her. “We’re walking out of here together and there’ll be no more hiding. For either of us.”

Chapter 11

Mystic~

This was it.

I was no longer sitting on the counter and Gage was pulling my panties back up, securing them back in place. He was making us presentable, but everyone was going to know what we were doing in here. Or, at least, they’ll think they know.

But no one knows.

I didn’t even know what it was that we were doing. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was sick. I knew it was unhealthy both mentally and physically. But I still didn’t know what it was.

“Come on,” Gage said as he reached for my hand. “Let’s go find Margot, so you guys can work your shit out.”

I felt him tug on my hand, but my feet were rooted where I stood. Logically, I knew everyone would think we just had sex, but the publicity of it