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“There’s no reason for us to be in your life,” he repeats. “Except I can’t fucking stay away.”
But even so, I don’t stop texting him, even as my eyelids start to get heavy. I curl up on my side, tapping out messages as I cradle my phone in my hand.
Willow is gone, and her absence is like a gaping hole in our lives.
Almost in unison, their eyes snap to me, as if my attention on them has sparked theirs right back. All three of them take me in, and my breath gets stuck in my throat as their footsteps slow a little, their gazes running up and down my body.
Possessiveness roars through me like a feral beast as I watch Willow talking to the fucker with the pompous face and annoying laugh.
There’s a need under my skin, burning and insistent. It’s primal and possessive, and it won’t be satisfied until I see her. I make my way around the room, scanning the crowd for her soft blonde hair or a flash of her jade green dress—the dress that hugs her delicate body so fucking perfectly that it makes me want to kill every fucker in this place just for having seen her in it.
“Everything about you is my business. It became my business when you begged for my cock. When you let me put my mark on you.”
“I… I’m your slut,” she finally whispers, sounding desperate and so fucking beautiful. “I’m your slut, and I want to come for you.”
“Ya yeshche nikogo tak ne khotel, kak tebya,” I tell her, letting it slip off my tongue in Russian. I know she doesn’t understand the words, and maybe that’s for the best. I’m not sure I’m ready for her to know just how deep my feelings for her run.
“Let him watch,” Ransom murmurs. “You know Vic doesn’t always like to be touched, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you.”
He smirks at me, desire and amusement flashing in his eyes. “You keep looking at me like that, pretty girl, and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
Before I’m all the way asleep, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text, blinking at it blearily. It’s from Vic, and it’s just two words. VICTOR: You’re beautiful.
“You’re not a pawn,” he tells me, his voice lowered. “You never have been. You’re a fucking queen. You’re the only person in this whole goddamned world who could bring me to my knees. The only person who’s ever crawled inside my soul.”
“Ya zhe govoril, chto ne otpushchu tebya,” he murmurs in Russian. “Ya ne mogu. Nikogda ne smogu.”
“I told you I won’t let you go,” he murmurs in Russian. "I can't. I never can.”
“Only you. You’re the only one who gets me like this. So use my cock to make yourself come. It’s yours.”
Every single touch is possessive and commanding, like he owns me. Like he can do whatever he wants with me. Like my body is his to fuck however he wants.
“You feel too good,” he grits out. “Should be a fucking crime.”
There’s something possessive in the way he holds me, and in the way he runs his hands between my legs, helping to wash away the blood and cum that’s still oozing out of me.
There’s something like a warning flashing in his eyes, and I realize he’s trying to protect me. He doesn’t want to hurt me, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold back.
“You were made for this,” Malice says. “I wish you could see yourself. I should fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see how dirty and beautiful you look. Full of my cock, taking it like it’s easy. Or like it’s hard, but you want it anyway. Ya ne mogu nalyubovat'sya toboy.”
I’d go over and kiss Vic if he were anyone else, but instead, I just smile at him, giving him a little wave. He glances over at me, and our gazes lock for a moment. Although his expression doesn’t change, there’s a flash of heat in his eyes that makes butterflies erupt in my stomach.
“Jesus. Only the two of you would have this much sexual tension while standing several feet apart, fully clothed.”
Ransom pulls me close, and Malice fits himself in behind me, his broad frame solid against mine. They move to the music, and I follow their lead, letting myself go a bit.
When he kisses me, it feels like being burned alive. Like he’s pouring all of the chaos and passion that lives inside him into me, filling me up with it.
“Bend over,” he says. “And grab your ankles.”
He slams into my body, which rocks me forward, making me take more of Ransom’s cock in my mouth.
“I never wanted a woman to be mine before,” he murmurs gruffly. “Never wanted a woman to be ours. Until I met you.”
I went from fearing these three brothers to feeling such an unbreakable connection with each of them that I can’t imagine my life without them.
They’re too important to me now, and time and time again, they’ve proven that I’m important to them too. That they care about me and want me in their lives, even if it means they have to fight for me. Even kill for me.
