Page 85 of I Will Break You

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Page 85 of I Will Break You

“You make an excellent point,” Xero says.

“Yeah.” BJ gulps. “I would never encroach on another man’s territory. I knew to steer clear of the woman who ran your official fan club.”

“But this is your modus operandi,” Xero says. “You target women with small followings, knowing that they won’t be believed. Tonight, you invited Amethyst and her friend, hoping they would stay silent for the promise of you being the voice of Xero Greaves.”

“It wasn’t like that,” BJ sobs.

“How many victims have you silenced with cease-and-desist letters? How many have you doxxed? The information is all there on your phone.”

“I swear to God,” cries the hangman, “I’m not a serial rapist.”

“What about the Helsing Island Book Fair?” BJ screeches. “Or Southampton, or Granville?”

“Pathetic,” Xero snarls. “But since neither of you raped the girls this time, I’ll give you one chance to earn your freedom. Whoever wins this game gets to go free. Understood?”

They both give him eager nods.

“Get on the bed. The first man who comes inside the other gets to live. Loser dies.”

BJ skitters backward. “But I’m not gay.”

“Then you both die.”

“No fucking way.” The hangman wrestles BJ to the bed.

I clap both hands on my mouth, watching the men grapple on the mattress. The hangman grabs the smaller man by the neck and then holds him down with one muscular forearm, while he pumps his own flaccid penis, which has an overhanging foreskin.

“Fight him, not me!” BJ flails his arms and legs, trying to break free.

“Fuck, no,” the hangman snarls. “You’re the one who got me into this mess.”

BJ grabs the hangman’s balls and yanks downward.

With a blood-curdling howl, the hangman releases his hold on BJ and rolls backward on the mattress. BJ advances on him, already rock hard.

“I’m going to take your ass, big boy,” BJ snarls in a deep voice. “Fuck you hard and fast. Fill you with buckets of cum.”

The pulse between my legs pounds, and I squeeze my thighs together, trying to stem a surge of excitement. This is wrong. Even though both men are rapists, I should be horrified at seeing them assaulting each other.

But I’m not.

If Xero hadn’t floated to our rescue, Myra and I would have woken up traumatized and with no memory of what happened to our bodies. We dropped our guards, thinking the world of publishing was a tight-knit community, and Big Dick Johnson swooped in to take advantage of our desperation for success.

BJ pounds into his friend’s ass at a relentless pace, and the hangman finally gets an erection. Just as his leather pants suggested, it’s long and thick but with a narrow head, trapped within its foreskin. With an almighty bellow, he rears off the mattress and slams his fists into BJ’s face.

My hands slide over to my eyes. I can’t watch this. No matter what these men have done, I can’t stomach seeing them fight so hard to rape each other.

The snarls and shouts and slaps subside, giving way to grunts and groans. When I peek through my fingers, they’ve arranged their bodies in a 69 and are thrusting into each other’s mouths.

My clit throbs at the sounds of their fucking, then my pussy clenches and releases and aches. I’ve never seen anything so primal, so raw. Two men fucking each other’s throats for their own survival. This is madness.

“Does this make you horny?” asks a deep voice sounding so close to my ear that I flinch.

I pull my hands away from my face to find a cloaked figure looming in the shadows, his eyes glowing.

It’s Xero, and he’s holding a sack.

My gaze darts up to the scene playing out on the ceiling. How much do I want to bet that Xero is about to present me with one or more of their body parts?




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