Ready Or Not (The Hunter’s Club #2)

Chapter 56

56

Wicked Game - Witchz

When I wake up, something isn’t right. I’m groggy, and I feel like…I’m sitting up.

I shake my head, looking around. It’s dark, and I’m in the back of a car.

“Oh, our little intrigue is awake.”

The grumbly voice makes realization come crashing in.

It’s Manson.

I scramble upright as I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror. Only, this time, he has the same mask and helmet on as when I first met him. He looks cold and harsh, his eyes barely glinting behind the mask.

There’s movement to my right, and I look over and see Riley there. She’s back in her cop uniform, with the half mask over her mouth.

I squeeze my eyes shut. They came to kill me. To kill me because I ran.

And that thought makes me mad.

“You thought you could get away, Rachel?” Riley’s voice is soft. It’s the deceptively soft sound, where she lulls you into complacency, then pounces. It makes goosebumps prickle across my skin, and the blood rush to my pussy.

Fucking hell! I shouldn’t be getting turned on right before I die.

We pull into Riley’s place, and the sight hits me with unexpected nostalgia and then anger. I’m nothing more than one of their marks. And after I caught feelings? How embarrassing.

Manson pulls up to the back door and then jumps out of the car. He pops my door open. “You have thirty seconds to run.” His voice is slightly muffled, and it comes out lower than normal.

I give him my meanest death glare. He gives it right back, looking down through the mask like he might just pound me into the car right here. I realize again just how big of a person he is.

So I run. I dart into the house and shut and lock the door. Manson doesn’t come here much, and Riley spends all her time in the barn, so I have at least a partial chance. As I scramble through the hall, I dart to the kitchen to look for weapons.

I’m shivering in anger.

How dare they do this to me? Treat me like this?

As I dig through drawers, I find a knife. Gripping it, my vision clouds over with tears, and my hand shakes.

Get it together, Rachel.

I know this house is trapped, so I dart carefully up the stairs and to the one room I know is safe. Riley’s room.

A deafening bang comes from downstairs, and I stifle a scream. Whirling, I back into the wall and face the door, the knife still in my hand.

I glance down at it, heaving for breath. I don’t think I can use this on them. Either one of them. Even the idea of swinging it at them makes me sick.

There’s another bang, and then I hear racing footsteps.

“Ready or not, here we come.”

“Move, dickhead. She’s mine.”

There’s scrambling, and my heart races. My hand shakes, and I feel sick. I can’t kill them. I can’t.

What sounds like a gunshot goes off, followed by Riley’s laughter. It’s a belly laugh, and I realize that Riley sounds…happy.

It makes my stomach flutter.

But I hear multiple footsteps on the stairs, and I stiffen before the door is booted open.

I scream, darting to the corner. Manson and Riley shoulder in, their masked faces immediately turning to me.

“Rach,” Riley cocks her head, the edges of her eyes crinkling. “You’re kinda bad at hiding.”

I hold out the knife, hands shaking so bad I know they see it. “Fuck you, Riley.”

She laughs. “And to think, I used to think you were meek. Come here.” She darts at me, and I jump onto the bed to get away from her. But that only puts me closer to Manson.

“Don’t! Get away!” I wave it at him. “I’ll stab you!” As soon as the words are out, they sound like a lie, even to me.

“He’ll just get off on it. Don’t waste your time.” Riley pounces on me, dragging me down into the bed.

I scream, dropping the knife, only for Manson to sweep it up and away from me. Riley pins me to the bed, dropping her hips on mine and trapping my wrists under hers. She heaves for breath, looking down at me. “Got you.”

“Get off me!” I scream, bucking my hips, but she’s strong. And that only sends a jolt of sensation to my pussy. I’m trapped.

And fuck, I like it. All the emotions bubble up in me and boil in my chest. Only this time, I feel my eyes welling with tears that I can’t stop. Soon, they come rolling down my cheeks against my will. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to control my breathing.

“Oh, crying already?” I feel Riley’s masked face nudge the side of my head, nestling into my hair. “We’re just getting started.”

I catch a whiff of her shampoo, the one I used to get the blood out of her hair, and for some odd reason, it just makes me cry harder.

“Rachel.” Riley groans, grinding into me. “You know I’m a sadist, right? This only gets me off more.”

But I can’t stop. Horrible, ugly sobs are taking over my body, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Because I found the strength and the protection I’ve always wanted, and now it’s going to be ripped from me.

“It’s not fucking fair!” I try to rip my hands out from under Riley, managing to get one partially loose before she snatches it up again.

Suddenly, Riley is shoved off me, and Manson is there. I scramble to get away, but he just drops his weight over me. He’s bigger and much heavier, and it’s like I’m being suffocated under a blanket of water. His mask falls into my face. All the weight is pressing into me evenly, and suddenly, all I can focus on is my breathing because there’s nothing else I can do—in and out and in and out.

“Hey! I found her first.”

“Give her a minute.” I hear Manson’s rumble.

I suck in breath after breath, trying to come up with something to say, but I can’t. I find myself relaxing into him, getting one last taste of what it’s like to be with them before I can’t anymore.

Finally, Manson shifts, and when he does, I feel that he’s hard. He lets off just enough that I can see both of them. Both have taken off their masks, and they’re staring at me with those dead eyes.

My face burns. Why do they have to look at me?

“Rachel,” Manson’s voice is low and unhurried. “You ran.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Here is where they kill me. This is it. They’ll kill me because I defied them.

But both of them are silent. They’re silent for so long. I only know they’re still there by Manson’s body on me and Riley’s soft breaths on my skin.

“Just kill me and get it over with,” I mutter.

Riley snorts.

I snap my gaze open. She wants to mock me? I open my mouth to yell at her, and her eyes spark in excitement.

I snap my mouth shut.

“Oh, come on, bambi. Play with me,” she pouts.

“Play with you?” I sputter. “Play with you? Really? After all this time that you’ve been playing with me? With my life and my…” I stop. I was about to say my heart, and that would sound horrendously stupid.

Riley opens her mouth, but Manson growls, “Feelings, Riley. Play nice.”

Play nice? Play fucking nice? My face burns with embarrassment, and I buck into him. I want to get away. Have to get away. I can feel their eyes burning into me, seeing me, seeing my struggle, and I hate it. I fucking hate it. I struggle until I’m panting. Manson hasn’t even budged.

“Yeah, he sucks like that.” Riley looks at her nails. “If you want something, he’ll lean in extra hard. Feel free to kick him in the nuts for me.”

I just stare at her. She picks at her index finger. “Now you’ve got me picking at my nails, bambi. Gonna have to get you to kick that habit so I can kick mine.”

I blink. What in the ever-living hell is going on?

“Are you…going to kill me?” I can’t keep the question back any longer.

Riley and Manson share a look. Riley’s pretty eyes lock back on mine. “Uh, no? What the hell, Rachel? You thought we were going to kill you?”

My heart starts racing again, and I glance between the two of them. “Isn’t that what you’ve been saying this whole time?” I can’t help the screech in my voice.

“Well, I mean, yeah, we’re gonna fuck you within an inch of your life, but we won’t actually kill you, Rachel.”

I still can’t understand. They aren’t going to kill me?

Manson leans up a little more. Just enough to trap both of my hands in his one and trail the other down my chest. He runs a finger down to my breasts, turning one in circles around my nipple.

“Why?” I gasp.

Riley cocks her head. “Well, to start, you’re mine. Why would I want to get rid of something I’ve worked so hard to keep alive?”

“Ours,” Manson growls, and a shiver runs through me.

“Well, she’s more mine ‘cause you tried to kill her more often.”

Manson snorts. “If I was actually trying, she’d be dead, Riley.”

I blink at both of them. Manson’s finger is causing delicious tingles to run through me and distracting me.

“ And ,” Riley snaps her gaze back to me, “I want to keep you.”

I swallow. She wants this? There’s no way.

“What Riley means to say,” Manson keeps messing with my nipple, softly twisting, flicking, and teasing, “if she had any cognitive empathy, is that she likes you.”

I’m completely frozen. Riley…likes me?

“You’re stuck now.” Riley snakes her hand around to mess with my other nipple. “If you ever try to leave, I’ll end you.”

“You’re really bad at this.” Manson shakes his head at Riley.

“So are you, dickhead. So we’re even.”

Both of their fingers are driving me mad. I arch my back to get away from the pressure, but they just follow me. Manson chuckles. “Yeah, keep struggling. Just like that.” He rocks his dick against my leg.

“Fuck yeah, Rachel. You look so good helpless.” Riley gets up, and as she does, Manson flips us. I gasp, suddenly on top of him, looking down. He arches into me, his hands gripping my arms, keeping us pinned even in this position. He grins at me. “Ready?”

“Ready?” I repeat, feeling hands on my shorts, and they’re ripped down. I cry out, turning to see Riley has come back. She’s grinning at me with something in her hand. It’s small and plastic, and it’s a…strap-on?

“We’re both gonna stuff you full. So full you stop questioning who you belong to.”

I jump, trying to scramble away. Manson takes advantage of me being up and rips my shorts the rest of the way off, inching his down as well.

“Both?” I squeak. I don’t know how they’re both gonna fit. The strap-on seemed relatively small, but I know Manson is big. I have no idea how this is going to work.

“Shhh.” Manson guides me back on him, so I’m on his dick. He grinds me up against it. “It’ll feel good.”

“Good? I’ve never–” Manson lifts me, effortlessly holding me right above him.

“Hmm, Manson. Looking a little…fired up here.” I see Riley’s hand grab his dick and pump.

Manson’s grip on me tightens just slightly. “Put it in.”

“So hard already. You look like you’re going to come.”

I feel tingly and worked up seeing Riley tease Manson right below me.

“Riley.” There’s a bark of darkness in his voice. “Put it in. Now.”

“Shesh.” I jump as I feel her tease his dick along my opening, shooting sensation through me. “Just trying to save you from embarrassing yourself.”

The tip of his dick slips inside me, and I already know he’s going to feel how wet I am. Sure enough, he flashes those green eyes at me, and the corner of his mouth kicks up. Then, in one movement, he impales me on his dick.

Pleasure and pain shoot through me, and I suck in a breath. Holy shit. Manson holds me still, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

Riley chuckles. “Called it. Don’t come now, or she’ll think you’re a bad lay.”

“She knows that’s not true.” Manson moves one hand from my arm to play with my clit. “Isn’t that right, Rachel?”

I glance at Riley, and she lifts an eyebrow as if to say: now’s your chance.

I don’t answer, and Manson just pumps into me once, forcing a breath of air out of me. “That’s okay. We’ll just repeat the last time then. See if we can beat our last record.”

His touch and his dick inside me are already making me feel so fucking good. I hear a snap behind me, and Riley has strapped her dildo on and is coating it in lube.

Fear rushes through me. “Where, what–”

“Shhh.” She presses into my back, tracing her hand down me. “Don’t encourage me, bambi. I’m trying to be nice.” Her fingers trace down to my asshole, where she feathers them against my rim.

I clench, and Manson moans. The feeling isn’t unpleasant, just different.

“That’s right. We’re going to do what we want with our body, and you’re going to be a good girl and let us.” Riley’s voice is husky, and Manson slowly starts pumping into me.

My body erupts in goosebumps. They keep saying they own me, and I hate how hot it sounds. It touches something deep down inside me. Something that wants to let them do whatever they want.

Riley’s finger presses into my ass, and I hiss, sucking in a breath. But she doesn’t stop, just pumps it in and out. “Nasty girl. You look so good riding him and me at the same time.”

I groan. The stimulation on my clit, my G-spot, and my ass is overwhelming. Riley doesn’t give me much time and adds a second finger. This time, it stretches a little more, and I grunt, causing her to give a throaty moan.

Manson locks eyes with me. His gaze is unsettling in its perception, and I look away. It’s like he can see all the way down to my soul—like he can see the lonely, scared, hurt girl who got swooped up by two tornados of power and possessiveness. It’s like he can see how much I want them. And that scares the shit out of me.

I gasp when I feel the tip of Riley’s strap-on against my ass.

“Easy.” Manson strokes my arm gently. “Relax and let us in.”

Riley presses in, and I jump, trying to get away. Manson just presses me back down. “No, no. Let us in, Rachel.”

The stretch is painful and feels weird, and I’m clenching down, trying to keep the sensations down.

“The tip is in, relax.” Riley snakes a hand around to where Manson’s stroking my clit. I feel their hands war for a second, then Riley’s takes over. She immediately rolls my clit in her fingers, making a jolt of pleasure run through me.

“There you go, good girl.” Her voice is the same calming, rich tone that I remember from the first time I met her. Manson’s hand moves up to my tits, grabbing a nipple and playing with it. Despite the pain in my ass, his touch is gentle, and a shiver of shame washes through me as I enjoy his touch. But I lean into the bite of pain as Riley rocks slowly into me. The sensations wash together in a blissful wave, crashing over my body in warm tingles.

“Good girl. Good lord, you’re taking both of us. What a good little slut.” I feel Riley grind up behind me, her breath heavy in my ear.

Manson picks up his pace, thrusting into me from below. “So…tight.”

Riley’s fingers and Manson’s fingers, and both of them inside me, are winding me up faster than I’ve ever felt. Everything is tense and pleasurable at the same time, and it all builds in my chest until I let out a low moan.

Manson’s dick jerks and Riley groans. They build me slowly until I’m on the edge of wild pleasure, and then, with a pinch of Riley’s fingers, she shoves me over the edge. I come, moaning, losing myself to the pleasure exploding in me. Losing myself to them. The pleasure washes over me in waves, and I just…let go.

As soon as I come down off the high, both Riley and Manson pick up the pace. It’s overwhelming and overstimulating with a bite of pain in the best way possible. I throw my head back, coming again.

“That’s it, what a nasty girl.” Riley’s voice is husky. “Come all over Manson’s dick while I own your pretty little ass.”

They fuck me through that orgasm, then another and another. The stimulation quickly gets to be too much, and I squirm, trying to get away.

“Fuck,” Manson pants out, holding me still. “Yes, just like that.”

They work me higher and higher until the pain blends with the pleasure, and I can’t tell the difference anymore. The letdown of the emotions from thinking they were going to kill me hits me all at once, and I think a few tears escape.

Vaguely, I hear Manson demand, “Come, Riley.”

“You first.”

There’s some shuffling, then we’re on our sides, and Manson’s hand is banded over me, reaching between us to Riley’s pussy. My head is buzzing with the mix of orgasms, but I hear Riley groan and feel Manson moving.

“Fuck…you,” she breathes, her whole body stiffening. As soon as she stiffens, Manson comes, his dick jerking in me, feeling so tight with the dildo up my ass.

We all lay there for a minute, gasping, sucking in air. It takes me a while to come down from the fuzzy feeling. For some reason, all I can think about is we’re on a bed. We’re on a bed, and Riley seems okay.

After a few more minutes, Riley groans and rolls out of bed. “I’m starving.”

Manson just moves to bury his nose in my hair.

“I’ll make some food.” I hear her pad out of the room and move downstairs.

I shift. I should probably get up.

Manson holds me still. When he talks, his voice is gruff, “Just so you know, I want you here too.”

I try to pull back to look at him, but he just holds me harder, holding me still. “I like you. You’re logical and even-headed. You’re also good for Riley. You ground her, and that’s something I’ve been trying to do for a long time.”

I swallow.

“You also help me. With her. I think we’d make a good team, Rachel Hiebert.”

This all feels too good to be true. “Are you lying?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Manson chuckles, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “Deadly serious.”

Still, I hesitate.

“Gonna have to tell me what’s going on inside your head. I’m better than Riley, but still not great. I don’t feel what you feel, Rachel.”

I swallow. There are so many emotions turning around in my chest right now. Fear, hope, vulnerability, with more and more coming in, and trying to decide which ones he wants to hear about makes me feel like I’m in one of those wind machines trying to grab money, but it keeps slipping out of my hands. Which one does he care about? Why is he asking? Finally, I say, “I…don’t know.”

Manson just holds me.

“Rachel!” Riley shouts up the stairs. “How many chicken nuggets?”

I jump in surprise. I don’t know. There are too many decisions and too many sensations going on right now.

I open my mouth, “I’m scared, Manson. What if this goes wrong?” What if they break my heart?

“Okay, I’ll do ten!” I hear her clattering in the kitchen.

Manson strokes my hair. “Well, we aren’t scared. Let’s just take it one day at a time, hmm? None of this will be easy, Rachel. That’s not what we’re asking. We’re asking to do it together.”

Together.

I want that. I pick at my nails, letting all of the emotions in my chest filter out through that repetitive motion. Over and over and over. Pick, pick, pick until I feel quiet enough to take a deep breath.

Then, I make what might possibly be the stupidest decision I’ve ever made. My voice comes out quietly, “Okay. Together.”