Despicable by Rory Miles

BELLATRIX

How is it that the walk to Harlow’s home feels more shameful than any walk of shame I’ve ever done? Not that I ever felt particularly ashamed for a one-night stand, but there is a sliver of embarrassment that creeps in when you’re strolling down a crowded street in a spandex dress and carrying your highheels in one hand. The countless shame-walks I’ve done have nothing on my Vans scuffing over the pavement, my feet carrying me toward Harlow’s house despite my mind screaming at me to go back to the men.

Taking a steadying breath, I remind myself why I wanted to do this. Harlow deserves to know, I understand, if at least to make her feel less alone when they slap those silver bindings around her wrist and she’s taken to the main island for her hearing.

Her house is my favorite in the cul-de-sac, more cottage like than beach house, and her porch is beautiful. I jog up the steps, pulling my shoulders back and lightly rapping on her door.

“Harlow? It’s Bellatrix.”

“What do you want?” she asks, voice filled with suspicion. I imagine her ducked down behind her couch, peeking over the top to see if I brought anyone with me.

No one else is here. Yet.

Grimacing, I press my fingertips to the door and drum them against the wood. “I want to talk, that’s all.”

“Where’s the investigator?”

So she knows he’s here. Does she know he’s coming for her, or is that the guilt which comes with knowing she did something wrong making her worry about his whereabouts?

“With the guys,” I say. “Will you let me in? I’d love some tea.”

There are a few moments where I’m certain she’s going to tell me to fuck off, but much to my surprise, her careful footsteps pad toward the door and she unlocks the deadbolt and the regular lock, opening the door. I smile at her, hoping she’ll take my request for what it is, a genuine request for connection.

“I have chai, mint, and apple cinnamon.” She steps aside and lets me in, scanning the porch before snapping the door closed and locking it. “Come on,” she grouses, brushing past me into the kitchen.

Right, this isn’t some friendly brunch. We hardly know each other, and aside from her magical vagina comments, she’s barely revealed her true personality. I follow her, taking a seat at the counter and watching as she fills the teapot with water and sets it on the stove. She turns on a small radio on the counter, humming along with a song.

“Aren’t you worried about electricity?”

She tips her head to the side and shakes her head. “I want to enjoy a real cup of tea and some music before I go.”

I don’t ask her where she’s going, and she doesn’t explain. We both know. She rummages around in the cupboard, grabbing two mugs, tea bags, and some cookies. The investigator only gave me ten minutes with her, so I’m not sure we’ll be able to finish, but I don’t want to make this harder for her by saying so.

“Are you okay?” I ask, studying her face which is growing paler by the second.

“No,” she croaks, setting the cups aside and bracing her hands on the counter, dropping her head. “I did—” she chokes on a sob, then tries to say it again but the words die in her throat.

“You don’t have to say it,” I say in a rush. “I understand what you’re trying to say.”

She shoots me a wide-eyed look, eyes filled with tears and pain. Her shoulders start to shake, so I slowly slide off the stool, hoping I don’t startle her. I hold up my hands and approach her. Her eyes search my face, bouncing back and forth so quickly it almost looks like she’s on drugs.

“You’re okay.” I open my arms, waiting for her to make the move.

A pitiful whimper escapes her lips, and she steps into my arms, finally letting herself cry. I don’t know for sure what she’s mourning, the loss of her old life, the loss of herself, or the loss of life she caused, but whatever it is, I hold her through it, ignoring how damp my shirt gets.

The tea kettle prepares to scream, but she doesn’t move. I pat her back, trying to figure out what to say to make it better. If I’m honest, words never help. Words are full of potential disappointment. Actions are more than that though, so I wrap my arms around her a little tighter and simply let her fall apart.

When the high-pitched whistle fills the room, she sniffs and extracts herself from my hold, giving me a watery smile.

“Thanks,” she whispers, then turns to finish fixing the tea.

She pours the hot water over the bags of tea and into the mug, filling them both before setting aside the kettle. I grab the cookies, and she carries the tea cups to the living room. We sit on the couch together, staring out of the big bay window while the tea steeps.

“You’re not going to ask why?”

I glance at her. “Do you want to tell me why?”

She bites her cheek and shakes her head.

Shrugging, I lean forward and pull on the string of my teabag, bobbing it in the water. “Then no, I’m not going to ask.”

Her swallow is audible, and she sniffs again. “Chad was a dick. He wasn’t going to stop, trust me I know.” She grinds her teeth together. “He. There’s something.” She sniffs and shakes her head, too overcome with emotion to say whatever she wants to say.

“It’s okay, Harlow. I understand.”

She drops her gaze to her hand and nods. “Thank you.”

“They’re going to make you think you’re broken,” I say, shifting on the cushion to face her. “You’re not. Whatever your reason was for what you did is your reason. You don’t have to be that person, though. There’s therapists—”

Her bitter laugh cuts me off. “I’m feral, Bellatrix. They’re going to put me down.”

“I don’t believe that.” I shake my head. “You can heal, but you need someone to talk to, and a little kindness. We all know there’s none to be found on Wolfsbane Island.”

“You found some,” she muses, biting into a cookie. “Those men want you as their mate.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know about that.”

Scoffing, she jabs the cookie in my direction. “Don’t take it for granted, not every reject gets a second chance at love, let alone a second chance at finding a mate.”

Avoiding her scrutinizing gaze, I take the tea bag out of my cup, set it on the small saucer and take a sip, humming in appreciation.

“I thought I’d have more time,” she says.

“Hmm?” I side-eye her, but see her gaze firmly fixed on the window.

No. Not on the window, on the cowboy walking toward her house.

“Did you hear me, Bellatrix?”

I look at her, noting how serious she is.

“Don’t take it for granted. You have a second chance. Chad is gone. You can petition to leave the island.”

“Harlow,” I say, setting down my cup. “You didn’t kill Chad to—”

“It doesn’t matter why, remember? He’s gone. You can be happy. He won’t haunt you now.” She drops her guard and gives me a true smile; it doesn’t light up her eyes because she knows she’s about to be arrested, but there’s real happiness there. Happiness for me.

“Don’t waste the opportunity.” She shoves the rest of the cookie in her mouth, chewing it quickly before draining her tea.

I wince, because it’s hot and has to hurt, but her healing will kick in eventually. Standing with her, we walk to the window to watch the investigator close the remaining fifty feet between himself and her house.

“You’re not a bad person,” I say. “You made bad decisions, but you can change.”

She sighs, giving me a look. “Pot meet kettle. You’re not bad or despicable, Bellatrix. Chad was a dick.”

Laughing, I nod in agreement. “Yeah, he was.”

A comfortable silence falls between us, and when the investigator stomps up the steps, eyes trained on us standing at the window, Harlow heads to the front door with far more poise than I would have. She doesn’t beg for mercy, pretend she didn’t do it, and she doesn’t try to blame someone else.

“Ma’am,” the investigator begins, but Harlow holds her hand up.

“I know who you are and why you’re here. Let’s get this over with.” She holds her wrists toward him.

His eyebrows rise to his hairline, and he shoots me a look. I shrug, and he simply shakes his head and pulls out silver handcuffs, clamping them around her wrist. Harlow hisses in pain, and my fingers instinctually find the faint scarring on my own wrists.

“Bye, Harlow.”

Glancing at me over her shoulder, she searches my face and nods, shuttering herself and thoughts. “Bye, Bellatrix.”

* * *

The moodfor the next few days is subdued. We still watch over the supplies, but with even less shifters than before. The remaining ones keep to themselves even though the murderer has been taken, and Dax loosens up his strict scheduling.

There are plenty of supplies to go around, and there were even before everything that happened, but I think he’s finally come to terms with the fact that there’s more to life here than his control over making sure the peace is kept. Besides, no amount of guard shifts stopped what Harlow did.

Dax and Creed are in the kitchen cooking lunch while I’m working on a puzzle. It’s only five hundred pieces, but either I’m really stupid or they purposefully make these things hard because no matter how many times I try, I can’t get the border done. Ronan went for a walk a little while ago, probably to get out of cooking, so I sit back and watch my men work.

Creed is adorable with his pink cheeks as Dax stands behind him, directing him on how to properly slice an onion (who knew there was a right and wrong way?). I notice Dax shift a little closer, taking a barely noticeable inhale, but Creed’s movements slow, telling me he is all too aware of what Dax did.

“Easy, Old Man. Don’t scare him,” I tease, walking to the barstool and sitting in it.

Dax grins at me, but doesn’t step back, crowding Creed’s space on purpose. He doesn’t seem to mind though, and ever so slightly, he leans back against Dax, their bodies aligning almost perfectly. I sigh, tipping my head to the side and imagining them naked. They’ve waited a long time for this, even though Creed was blind to Dax’s obvious attraction.

“I think he should be the one who is scared,” Creed drawls, sliding his gaze in my direction. “We might break him.”

“It would be a shame to break his hip,” I murmur as a grin tugs at my lips. I hadn’t expected him to be so willing to include me in what was happening between them, but I love that he wants me there and that neither seem to mind. Something about this feels so natural, almost like it was meant to be.

That’s sappy talk, though, so I shove the thought aside and smirk at Dax.

“What do you say, Dax? Think you can handle the both of us?”

He grunts, wrapping his arm around Creed’s stomach and resting his palm on his lower belly, tugging his body more firmly against his. “I think I can manage.”

Groaning, Creed drops his head back against Dax’s shoulder, gasping when Dax slips his hand beneath his jeans and grabs his dick.

“Fuck,” he chokes out, jerking his hips forward.

Dax chuckles darkly, stroking him a second time before pulling his hand out of Creed’s pants.

“Ask nicely.”

“Touch me, please,” Creed says, easily falling into the submissive role.

“Very good.” Dax wraps his fingers around Creed’s shaft, eyes lifting to meet mine. “Tell me what to do to him.”

“Stroke him.”

With a wicked grin, Dax languidly works Creed’s cock, backing off every time Creed makes a noise, edging him like he did me the other day. His teeth graze over Creed’s neck, and I gasp when he clamps his mouth around his pulse point. Creed moans and rocks his hips forward, trying to find his release.

Fuck, this is so hot.

Dax glances at me, dropping a kiss where he bit Creed and withdrawing his hand before Creed can come. “We should go to my room.”

Turning off the stove, he pins me with a domineering, expectant look. With a huff, I hop off the barstool and march up the stairs like a good girl. Creed races after me, scooping me into his arms and carrying me into Dax’s room. He drops me on the bed and strips in two seconds flat.

Dax eases the door shut, resting his hands against the wood and watching as Creed helps me out of my own clothes. My heart is racing as fast as Creed’s, but Dax’s is a steady thrum of anticipation, sure and secure in what’s about to happen.

Has he done this before?

Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

“Creed, make her feel good.” Dax’s words leave no room for argument.

Crawling back on the bed, I open my thighs and slip my finger down between my folds, lifting my hips into the touch. Creed tsks, grabs my hand, and sucks my finger, lapping his tongue around and savoring the flavor.

“Greedy woman.” His finger explores my folds, swirling over my clit and sliding toward my entrance but hesitating, drawing out the anticipation.

“Creed,” I snap impatiently, and Dax does one of his husky laughs, making my spine tingle.

“Not yet,” Dax commands, resting his head back and tipping his chin up, gazing at me with hooded eyes. “See how much you can make her beg.”

“With pleasure.” Creed buries his face in my pussy, lapping, sucking, and tongue fucking me, bringing me closer to the edge but backing off each time I whimper and my thighs clench together, teasing me.

Edging me.

Fuckers.

I kind of love it though.

Also hate it given the fact that I haven’t come yet and I’d very much like to.

“Touch yourself.” Dax moves from the door, standing over the bed in mere seconds and leaning over me, hands placed on either side of my head. “Roll those pretty nipples between your fingers.”

God he’s hot when he gets demanding.

“Of course, Old Man.” I bite back a smile, tipping my head and batting my eyelashes at him.

He narrows his eyes on me, silently promising to make me pay before dropping his gaze to where my hands brush over my breasts. I pinch the pebbled peaks, tugging and moaning when Creed sucks on my clit at the same time. I’m so close.

My vision starts to lose focus, so I close my eyes, gasping when a strong hand clamps around my throat.

“Open them.”

I snap my eyelids open, gazing up at Dax and melting into his hold, loving how his rough touch can turn me into a puddle in a single breath.

“You’re not going to come until I say so, do you understand me?” His fingers flex a little tighter, though not in a way where I fear for my life.

Some guys don’t do the choke hold correctly, but Dax? Dax is a master, and I’m his puppet, helpless on his strings and more than willing to let him play with me.

“Yes,” I rasp, licking my lips.

“Do you want something?” he asks.

“Kiss me.”

His lips kick up, but he nods and lowers his mouth to meet mine, lazily swiping his tongue over the seam of my lips before I open to him, letting him steal every whine and gasp as Creed continues to torture me with his tongue and fingers. He makes a come-hither motion, stroking that delicious spot deep inside of me, and I grab Dax’s neck, digging my fingers into his skin.

“Please,” I beg against his mouth. I’m so close, right there. All Creed has to do is work me a little faster for another few seconds and I’d float to the stars.

“No.” Dax grabs my hands and extracts them from his neck, moving to his drawer and pulling out a small bottle of lube.

I frown for a second then remember this is about more than me. This is about them. Us. All of us together. Creed is oblivious, but Dax gives me a knowing grin, kissing me deeply before moving around to the end of the bed.

Slowing his motions when he registers Dax behind him, Creed pulls his swollen lips away from my pussy and gazes up at Dax. It’s such a pretty picture. Me spread wide for them to enjoy, Creed’s innocent, almost fragile expression, and Dax’s dark, filthy irises receding as his pupils blow wide.

“Climb up the bed.”

Creed’s swallow is audible, so I open my arms to him, sliding down a bit when he begins to crawl on the mattress so we can all be in the right position. Dax nods his thanks to me before flicking open the bottle of lube.

“Did you save this ass for me?”

I suck in my cheeks and watch Creed’s reaction. His face turns scarlet, and he glances away from both of us. I lift my hand to cup his jaw and gently turn him to face me.

“It’s okay, Creep. He just wants to know how gentle to be with you.”

We wait for Creed to answer. He stares at me, a thousand thoughts flashing over his face, and I smile in encouragement. This is a big moment for him. He shouldn’t be scared or have any hesitation. He has to want this.

* * *

CREED

Trix’s eyes soften around the edges, and her kind smile is the only thing keeping me from racing out of the room. I want this. I sure as hell want Dax, but I’ve never been with another man. My fated was my best friend, but he promptly rejected me when we found out. She runs her hand over my jaw, ever so slightly tipping her head to the side.

There’s nothing but acceptance. Willingness to do whatever I want. She won’t hold it against me if I back out. I don’t want to though. The only way this is happening is if she’s here too. For some reason, Trix has become an anchor for me, and if she weren’t here, I’d be lost.

Dax is waiting, looming behind me until I give him permission. His strong presence makes my skin tingle in awareness. I’m overly sensitive to his every move, his every breath, and his every heartbeat. Right now, his heart is racing.

He wants me. Trix was right, I completely missed it. I want this, so I tip my head to the side to glance at Dax.

“I’ve used plugs before, but I’ve never had sex like that,” I confess.

There’s no judgment on his face, he simply nods and steps closer, running his hand up my back.

“That’s okay, I’ll be gentle.”

A shiver races at my spine, and Bellatrix sighs happily.

“Can I come now?”

The hope in her voice is comical. She won’t be coming for a while.

“Get inside of her,” Dax whispers into my ear, hot breath fanning across my skin.

Swallowing, I position myself over her and push the head of my cock into her. Trix moans yes and grabs for my hips. I tsk and capture her wrists, pinning them above her head as I slide all the way in.

“Fuck,” I murmur, holding myself deep inside of her. Her walls pulse around me, and I rock a little, smirking when she takes a sharp breath.

She feels perfect. Like she was made for me. Rolling my hips and grinding against her, I wait for Dax’s next command.

“Bring that ass up.” His hands run over the insides of my thighs to cup my balls. They’re gentle, and his touch is fire hot, making my hips jerk.

“Fuck. Yes.” Trix gasps and tries to wrench her arms free, making both Dax and me chuckle.

“Patience, Little Savage. You’ll need to roll over too.”

Since our current positioning won’t work for that, I slide out of her, taking maybe a little too much satisfaction from the whimper she releases at my absence.

“You heard the man. On your knees.”

She rolls over, propping herself up on her forearms and lifting her ass into the air. I run my palm down her spine, positioning myself, but Dax grabs my arm and gently tugs me back so I’m closer to the edge of the bed. I scoot Trix with my hands on her hips then line up with her center, shoving into her with a hard thrust.

A soft moan of pleasure escapes her lips, but before I can say anything, Dax’s fingers brush over the back of my arms.

“Now you bend over her, hold her with your arms.”

Trusting him is second nature. We’ve known each other for a long time and I know he’ll treat me right. So, I drape my front over her back, languidly thrusting into her and banding my arms around her like Dax told me to.

“Good boy,” he murmurs.

The lid to the lube snips open, and I shiver when I hear the bottle squirt, bracing myself for his touch.

“Relax, Creed. I got you.” Dax grabs my left hip with his hand to slow my movements, moving his lubed fingers to get me ready. He starts with one finger, and I hiss and jerk my hips, making Trix moan again without meaning to.

“Easy. You’re doing so good,” Dax says, working my virgin hole with two fingers, scissoring them to help prepare me to take him all in. I gasp when he slides a third finger in.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Shh.” Dax’s fingers brush against something within me and stars burst across my vision, whatever he’s done making me want more of his touch, more of that electric caress.

I’ve grown completely still, breathing through the new sensations as Trix works herself against my erection, using me like a tool. Dax removes his fingers, kissing my shoulder and tracing his lips up my neck, brushing them over my ear.

“You’re going to need to breathe.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

“You’re doing so good,” Trix says, slowing her own movements when Dax asks her to.

“Breathe,” Dax says, placing his hand on my ass and spreading my cheeks. He lines his cock up with my ass, and I have a moment of panic wondering how the hell it will fit, but he shushes me. “All you need to do is breathe. Don’t think about anything else but breathing.”

Pressing my lips together, I count to four as I breathe in, biting back a gasp when he slowly pushes in.

“You’re taking my cock like a champ,” he praises me, gently working himself in and giving me a moment to adjust before he goes a little deeper. “Breathe,” he says, reminding me of my job.

One. Two. Three. Four. I exhale, gasping when his cock spreads me.

“Oh my god,” Trix says, rocking back slightly. “This is amazing.”

“Damn,” Dax groans the word. “So tight.” Then he pushes in all the way, his thick shaft filling me up. I cling to Trix, panting around the newness that hurts but doesn’t at the same time.

It feels so good, especially when Trix starts to swirl her hips, reminding me my own dick is stuck deep inside of her.

“We’ll move together.” Dax bites my neck, tugging on my skin and moving his hips enough I can feel him gliding slightly in and out.

Mimicking his thrusts, I try to focus on both of them at once, but it’s hard as hell. Trix’s hands fist the sheets, and her walls are pulsing around me. Before I can think about how to make her feel even better, Dax moves inside of me and makes my heart stop as stars burst across my vision.

Holy fuck.

This is amazing.

“Touch her pretty little clit,” Dax commands before biting the other side of my neck.

Moaning, I move one of my hands to her apex and slip it between her folds, finding the little bundle of nerves. I pinch it, and she curses me, but I continue to work her and the cursing turns to moans as her entire body starts to tremble.

“You like having me inside of you?” Dax asks, running his nose up the column of my neck and placing his palm at the base of my throat. “You like fucking her while I fuck you?”

“Yes,” I rasp, thrusting into Trix when he thrusts into me.

“Keep time with me, but not too fast.”

There’s no asking from Dax.

He’s one-hundred percent in control. Who am I to deny him?

Ever so slowly, he picks up his pace, moving a little more in and out of me, making me moan. But he tightens his hold on my neck, reminding me I have my own job to do.

“How does that feel?”

“Fucking perfect,” I say, reveling in the warring sensation of filling someone and being filled.

Together, the three of us move as one. Trix rocks her hips back as I slam forward. Dax thrusts into me, punctuating the movement with a gentle but firm rock of his hips.

“Oh fuck,” Trix gasps, swatting my hand away from her clit. “Oh fuck.”

I grin and move my fingers back, knowing she’s right there and I can help her. She may be extra sensitive, but as soon as my finger finds her clit again, she cries out.

“Creed, oh god.”

Dax chuckles and he and I move together. The pressure from his cock presses deep inside of me, making my dick throb. Trix pants, slapping the mattress like she wants to tap out, but she moans “more.” I follow Dax’s steady thrusts, pounding into her like he does me, losing focus on everything except for her delicious pussy wrapped around my cock and Dax filling me to the brim and taking me.

“That ass is mine, you hear me?”

“Yessss,” I draw out the word, gasping again when he squeezes my neck tighter.

“Come with me,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “Come.”

His words brush over my skin, and my balls tighten, hips spasming and cock jerking inside of Trix as cum spurts out of me.

“Fuck. Yes.” Dax rolls his hips one last time, dropping his hand to my hip and burying himself as deep as he can.

Grunting, I hold Trix in my arms, resting my cheek against her shoulder and panting as Dax finishes coming. Trix wiggles against me, moaning in appreciation when she feels my cum all over her.

“Tell me we can do that again,” she whispers, laughing softly. “Please? I’m not ashamed to beg.”

Dax pats my ass, gently extracting himself and drawing another moan from me in the process. “That’s up to Creed.”

Taking a steadying breath, I nod, cheek rubbing her skin. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” I can feel his cum trickling from my ass, but I don’t give a damn. I want his cum all over me, marking me with his scent.

“Good boy,” Dax says a final time before going to the bathroom to clean up.

Trix’s legs finally give out, and we collapse to the bed. I pull out of her and roll to the side, tugging her closer.

“Mm. I loved that,” she says, snuggling in my arms. “Are you okay?” She searches my face, a line of concern wrinkling her forehead when I don’t immediately respond.

“No.” I pause, giving her a grave look. “I’m fucking amazing.” I laugh, kissing her cheek when she scowls at me.

“Jerk! I got worried for a second.”

Shaking my head, I close my eyes and hum. “Don’t worry about me, Trixie. I’m in heaven.”

She snorts. “Wait until you realize we’re still stuck on this stupid island.”

Not even that can tarnish my mood. I’ve never felt more alive.

Never felt more happy.

Never felt more like me.