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“The princess shall have what the princess wants,” Damien mocks, grabbing the chainsaw from the sled. “Don’t be a brat.” “Shut up,” I mutter under my breath. Without warning, Damien grabs my jaw, tracing his gloved thumb over my lips. “What was that?” he asks, staring at me. His piercing blue eyes leave my knees weak. “You’re the best,” I murmur playfully, gazing up at him. “Daddy.” “Yeah.” He crookedly grins, leaning into me. “That’s what I thought.”
“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I say. Micah turns back to look at me. “I don’t know about that.” “Okay. Name one thing more beautiful than this.” His hand grips my thigh, just above my knee. “You, Quinn,” he tells me. “You.”
“Fuck,” he snarls behind his mask, eyes narrowed. “Good.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Girl.”
“You were always ours,” Damien sharply breathes, tightening his hold on me. “Let’s make that very clear.”
“Further,” he impatiently orders. I obey, spreading them wider. Granting him every bit of access. “Good girl.”
We wouldn’t just give her the world. We’d give her the skin off our bones. Anything for Quinn.
“Look at us, your little pets, sitting at your feet,” he says. “Use me, Quinn. Use all of us. We have no limits when it comes to you.”
“Melt for us,”