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“That’s very considerate of you,”
“Gettin’ yourself prepared so we can all spread you out and fill you up with our cum.”
“You want me to do it here?” I ask thickly. “Open you up and see where you’re all pink and pretty? Right here, where anyone could walk in?”
“Does it make you wet? Thinking about me spilling inside that sweet pussy of yours? You want me to take you bare?”
“Do you want me to fill you up? Or do you want me to paint those pretty breasts?”
“I’m askin’ as your doctor, pet.”
Survival tip #245 Find the biggest predator you can. Then hide behind them.
“You stole the bazooka from my room?”
Dom’s brows lower. It isn’t a pleasant expression. “Interesting that you’re more afraid of Lucky.” Step. “Than me.”
“It’ll go easier if you submit to your punishment, darlin’,”
I see Dom standing tall and dark and frightening just a few feet away. Uneasily, I wonder if Jayk would even be able to take him. He’s huge and deadly-seeming in his own right, but there’s something about Dom that commands absolute fear and respect. Lethal violence lives in the hard slash of his jaw and the blunt strength of his wide, rough hands.
You try and take anything else that doesn’t belong to you, and I’ll hold you down and have Beau beat your ass so you can’t sit for a week.
“I would be lying if I said I don’t enjoy a sub being nervous around me.
“Dom may lead the men, Eden, but this is my home. If he has a concern about my guests, he can discuss it with me.”
I called him “sir” again. It’s slipping out as naturally as breathing now. And he likes it. The, ah, pressure in his jeans tells me so. Not that I’m looking. It isn’t my fault it’s just . . . there. Demanding attention. Pretty damn worthy of it too.
“Yes, Beau.” Beau groans, deep in his throat. “Two of my favorite words on your lips, darlin’.”
“Was that a Tolkien reference?”
“I had a childhood too, you know.”
“Did you identify with the...
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Beau pushes off from the wall, watching me. He sets his feet in a fighting stance, like he doesn’t even realize it. I taught him that stance. Fucker.
My temper flares, and I have to unwrap my hands from their fists so I don’t end up slugging him. My father taught me better than that. No punching subordinates. Especially no punching friends.
“I need you with me.” My voice is low but thankfully even enough. I always need him with me.
It’s always been like this for me. The more control I take, the more controlled I feel. The more they submit, the more the awful, discordant tunes of the world begin to bleed into something pleasing. It doesn’t stop the fury—it’s buried too deep now—but it takes the edge off.
As if his earlier distance with me was a mirage, Beau’s smile for her is slow and warm. That peach-sweet, cowboy smile has been melting hearts since we were seventeen. Biting back my scowl, I move in front of the girl, between her and Beau so she can’t see that damned stupid grin.
“Dominic,” Beau warns again. “Beaumont,” I mimic.
In moments, I have both her tiny wrists trapped in my grip, and I’m dragging her to her feet, careful not to strain her arms. Eden yelps, then struggles, lighting my blood with the desire to trap. To subdue. I grab her around the waist and haul her against me, her back to my chest, her weight nothing at all. Running on instinct, I pass her wrists to Beau. When he doesn’t take them, I look up.
He’s never liked the discipline aspect of topping. It’s why he needs me.
Eden kicks my shin, and I grunt. In her ear, I snarl, “Try that again, subbie. I dare you.”
I’d be the first one to admit that I’m not the best with emotions. That’s what I need Beau for. But it’s been a long-ass time since I’ve felt put in my place.
The thought of her, bright and tiny and defiant, in their hands makes me want to kill something.
I look at Eden, still on one knee. I haven’t knelt for anyone in my life, and I wonder if she appreciates the view.
Survival tip #109 Break when you need to. Preferably in the arms of a gorgeous man.
What’s the point of having choices if I just keep making the wrong ones?
“I don’t know about you,” Dom says from behind me, “but I don’t bathe fully clothed . . . and you’re filthy.”
“Strip.”
“That wasn’t really a suggestion, sweet girl.” Beau’s crooked smile deepens, and he takes a deliberate step toward me. “You should do what he says, hmm?”
He’s still smiling, but there’s an unholy light to his eyes. Something pagan and dangerous. I realize abruptly that I may have underestimated my charming doctor. Dark and feral needs lurk under his good nature.
“Remember your safeword, darlin’?”
“Good librarian,” Dom croons, deep and threatening, right beside my ear.
The panic is different—my nervous heart skitters at the thought of them catching me and, at the same time, I desperately want them to. I want them to take me, claim me, fuck me against the soft earth. I want them to have me completely at their mercy.
“Behave,” Dom orders, voice rough. Nervousness and lust make me lightheaded. Every hard, muscled inch of his chest is pressed against my back, and he grinds his rigid cock into my backside shamelessly. He wants me, I realize. Dom wants me.
“Submit, little librarian. No matter where you run, we’ll chase you down.”
Dom groans. “Or fight if you want. It turns me on.”
“Stay still. This isn’t about you. You’re ours to suck and fuck and play with however we want.”
“Our pretty slut.”
“You’re doing so well, darlin’. Keep fucking his thigh...
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Dom buries his face in my hair, breathing hard. “That’s it,” he croons. “Such a good little murderess.”
Dom’s hand around my throat lifts to my chin, and he turns my face roughly. He kisses my cheek, then my jaw with heartbreaking tenderness. “You did kill him, right? Pretty, bloodthirsty girl.”
I want to melt into Beau. Run from Dom. I want them both to fuck me.
I catch Beau’s hair in my fingers, and yank hard enough that he groans. “Pull it again, gorgeous. It’ll only make me come harder,” he pants, smiling at me.
