My Bullies, My Lovers

Dedication To all the girls (and boys) who love their books dirty and their guys hot. I counted for you: c*ck is used 36 times, d*ck - 38, and f*ck - 178. Now be a good girl (or boy) and turn the page.

Thorne, Blaze, and Ryder are waiting for you.

Tori POV

"Oh, yeah," I fake moan, as Kyle continues to lick at the wrong spot.

That's my inner thigh, Kyle. Can you really not tell the difference? You're twenty-f*ck*ng-two!

When his text came in proposing I come sit on his face, my deprivation prevented me from denying his request. I took an Uber, like an idiot, because my car is still sitting pretty at the shop with a starter that needs replacing and a ball joint that's as loose as an eighty-year-old woman's sagging t*ts. Hard to come up with the money at twenty-one, with a part-time job and college books to buy.

His hands grip at my thighs, pulling me down further toward his face with need...probably because he's in the wrong d*mn spot. My thighs burn in agony, hovering over him so I don't crush him. I don't want to suffocate a man with my labia.

I'm so bored, my gaze is fixated on the Rocky-f*ck*ng-Balboa poster he has hanging on the opposite wall.

How the hell did you get here, Tori?

When his hand aimlessly reaches up toward my breast, I take it, guiding it to his wanted destination. He squeezes too aggressively at first but realizes his mistake and eases, massaging it softly instead. Now, if he could just get his tongue in the right spot.

"Mmmm, yes. That's it," I throw in, needing to finish this already. I've gotten too good at faking it as of late.

Let's see...this will be the twenty-seventh time I've had to pretend I've had an orgasm? I'm not sure that anyone, aside from myself, will ever get me to come again- not since him.

Is this what s*x is going to be like for the rest of my life? If so, shoot me now.

I would like to believe that I could keep to myself rather than continue this hopeless journey, but here I am, hovering over Kyle's face in hopes I'm wrong and he has somehow figured out how to bring me the pleasure I so desperately seek.

Nope. Nothing but f*ck*ng licks to my thigh. Come on, Kyle! You're killing me.

"Oh, yes!" I yell out in my convincingly fake tone as I start to grind my hips faster for show. His finger pinches at my nipple, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from wincing.

After this is done, I'll have to return the favor and choke on his soda can of a d*ck. I'm definitely getting the raw end of this deal. I tense my muscles as a muffled, high-pitched squeak leaves my mouth, allowing him to believe he got me to reach my peak.

My thighs are screaming as I hop off and die silently beside him in bed.

Stop skipping your trips to the gym, Tori. You're so out of shape.

Kyle immediately props himself up on his elbow with such a self-assured grin. I want to slap it straight off his face.

You're a f*ck*ng idiot, Kyle. But sure, feel good about yourself.

"That was faster than last time." He wiggles his brows as if I should be praising his skills, but it only annoys me further.

Sh*t, was it really?

"Yeah, I guess it was. It must have been the boob play." I pinch my lips together so tight, I almost make them disappear entirely into my mouth.

"Ready to return the favor?" He asks the question, but he's already taking his pants off as if he knows the answer. I'm not one to leave someone high and dry, so I'll do it, but after this, Kyle is on the block list. So useless.

His thick-*ss d*ck jumps to life like a cobra ready to strike, the large veins throbbing with need and visible from across the room, pulsing all the blood to the pink tip of his c*ck.

"One second." I reach over the bed for my pants, digging in my pocket to pull out the d*ck lips I brought specifically for this. If I'm going to choke on his c*ck giving him head, then at least I'll make it taste good. I lick the gummy before sliding it down his c*ck- S*ck Me Strawberry. The gummy tears slightly at the side, almost splitting apart and becoming useless, but thankfully it holds together, just barely.

From there, it's just a lot of sucking, gagging, licking, and rubbing until Kyle comes in my mouth without so much as a warning. I want to spit it all back out on him, telling him to open his mouth and swallow it his f*ck*ng self. I don't. Instead, I gulp down the slimy sh*t and get dressed.

Why do you do this crap, Tori? You know no one is going to erase the memory of him, no matter how hard you try.

"Well..." I slide my legs into my underwear, pulling them up so fast I almost trip. "This was, uhhh..." I'm searching the forgotten corners of my mind for a word to describe this dreadful experience as I grab my pants and shimmy into them.

"Amazing?" he offers. At this point, I don't care enough to come up with an adjective to describe what this really was.

"Sure." I nod as I spot my shirt on the nightstand, pulling it on as I make my way to the door. "Goodbye, Kyle."

I don't turn to look back at him, leaving before he can say anything more. Add another one to the books, Tori. You're on a roll.

"Where did you go last night?" Alicia hands me the cereal box, her thumb still skimming her phone, lost in endless doom scrolling. Her eyes stay glued to the screen, barely acknowledging my presence.

Join the Facebook group "The Knightly Page Turners" to connect with the author and fellow readers!

Tori POV

I grab the box and head to the counter, pouring an absurd amount of chocolate puffs into a bowl and drowning them in chocolate milk.

"I went out," I say, lifting my bowl.

"Wow. Thank you for that detailed answer." Alicia's words drip with sarcasm. It's our default, the glue that makes us bond as roommates. She gets it. I get it. But that doesn't mean I enjoy being on the receiving end of it.

I scoot the chair back, the legs screeching in protest across the seventies-patterned linoleum. Sitting, I drop my bowl on our small, round, red table and shovel a spoonful of chocolatey goodness into my mouth. "I'll give you one guess."

Alicia finally looks up, intrigued. "Another failure?"

"Another failure." I sigh, refusing to say his name.

Admitting that I'd expected another disappointment would only make it worse.

"I'm telling you, you need a professional." She leans back, crossing her fishnet-covered legs beneath her Lolita-blue dres