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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.”
“That’s it, baby,” he praises. “Fucking take it. Take this cock like a good girl.”
“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.”
“We’ve lived in darkness for so long,” Damien says, grazing his lips against the crook of my neck, trailing down to my collarbone. “You are the only light we have.”
“We made a list, little Quinn,” Damien whispers beside my ear. “We checked it twice,” Jensen adds, twirling the lights around my arm, pulling tight. “And it turns out that,” Micah hesitates, binding my other arm as well. “Our pretty little slut has been naughty.”
We wouldn’t just give her the world. We’d give her the skin off our bones. Anything for Quinn.
“Now be a good little slut, and fucking come for me,” I command, rocking my hips. “Before I carve each of our initials into your skin as a reminder of who you belong to.”
“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.”
