Back Feel Free to Scream
Chapters (82)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. 1. Claire
  3. CLAIRE
  4. 2. Keller
  5. KELLER
  6. 3. Claire
  7. CLAIRE
  8. 4. Claire
  9. CLAIRE
  10. 5. Claire
  11. CLAIRE
  12. 6. Keller
  13. KELLER
  14. 7. Claire
  15. CLAIRE
  16. 8. Claire
  17. CLAIRE
  18. 9. Keller
  19. KELLER
  20. 10. Claire
  21. CLAIRE
  22. 11. Claire
  23. CLAIRE
  24. 12. Claire
  25. CLAIRE
  26. 13. Claire
  27. CLAIRE
  28. 14. Claire
  29. CLAIRE
  30. 15. Claire
  31. CLAIRE
  32. 16. Claire
  33. CLAIRE
  34. 17. Claire
  35. CLAIRE
  36. 18. Claire
  37. CLAIRE
  38. 19. Keller
  39. KELLER
  40. 20. Claire
  41. CLAIRE
  42. 21. Claire
  43. CLAIRE
  44. 22. Claire
  45. CLAIRE
  46. 23. Keller
  47. KELLER
  48. 24. Claire
  49. CLAIRE
  50. 25. Claire
  51. CLAIRE
  52. 26. Claire
  53. CLAIRE
  54. 27. Claire
  55. CLAIRE
  56. 28. Claire
  57. CLAIRE
  58. 29. Claire
  59. CLAIRE
  60. 30. Claire
  61. CLAIRE
  62. 31. Claire
  63. CLAIRE
  64. 32. Keller
  65. KELLER
  66. 33. Claire
  67. CLAIRE
  68. 34. Claire
  69. CLAIRE
  70. 35. Claire
  71. CLAIRE
  72. 36. Keller
  73. KELLER
  74. 37. Claire
  75. CLAIRE
  76. 38. Claire
  77. CLAIRE
  78. 39. Keller
  79. KELLER
  80. EPILOGUE
  81. KELLER
  82. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Not to his close family. Not downstairs at dinner—unless he’s addressing Rick the Dick. And not to me.

“Are you coming tonight? I wanna see if it’s worth staying home. Otherwise, I might take Dez to the movies.”

“I’ll ask Claire. I’ll text.”

He ends the call without another word. And here I thought he liked Markus.

“Ask me what?”

“The wyverns are throwing a party. Markus wanted to know if we’d attend.”

That gets me to laugh. “I don’t know, is it safe? My last party did not go well, if you recall.”

He snorts. “I disagree. Everything worked out just fine, as far as I’m concerned. But I don’t mean the public show we threw last week. Their parties upstairs on Saturdays are like ours, down in the basement on Sundays,” Keller tells me, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

“Oh.” My mouth suddenly feels very dry.

Last Sunday was…something.

“I did wonder. If you were hosting orgies every night down there,” I explain.

Keller doesn’t seem to find my question off color. “Only Sundays and special occasions. The lions, serpents and webs tend to handle Thursdays. Who even wants to party Thursdays?” He makes a face. “The sharks often set up their parties on Fridays—although sometimes we’re invited up to Raventhorn. Saturdays tends to be wyverns, and we vespers do Sundays. Our audience is more specific. Fewer guests, even in other rooms. I prefer it. But Markus wants us there, or he wouldn’t have called. I’m guessing Dez wants to party with her new friend.”

“I do like Dez.”

“Mm. Do you like her enough to watch her fuck my cousin?” he asks.

My insides immediately clench. “What?”

“She’ll ride him right in front of us. She’ll watch you fuck me, too. Markus and Dez don’t share, but they do like shows. Watching them, and being the star performers.” His tongue darts out, licking the tip of my ear and tracing it down to my neck. “So do I. So do you, I think.”

My mind goes back to last Sunday. I was so, so scared, but even then…I enjoyed it. I enjoyed each reminder that there was an audience. And I sure as fuck enjoyed how Keller made me feel.

“Will you wear your mask?” I find myself whispering, like I’m admitting a secret.

Maybe I am.

He lets a heartbeat pass. “Do you want me to?”

Fuck, I think I just drenched my panties. I’m going to have to change them.

Or just remove them.

I nod against his chest.

“Very well. A proper masquerade for you, little ghost.” He said he’d text, but he calls instead. I know it’s for my benefit, so I hear. “We’re in. Tell everyone to mask up.”

“Fuck, it’s been a while. Masks off at midnight?”

“On the dot.”

Jesus.