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I can’t stay here with these four guys…for god knows how long. I don’t have a toothbrush. Or pajamas. Oh my god, what if I have to poop? I’m not pooping here. I’d rather brave the snowstorm. I’d rather freeze to death like the homeless guy in Scrooged.
“You forgot to say please, Samantha.” The deep gravel in his voice makes me shiver. “‘Tell me I’m a good girl’…Please. Now, use your words, baby, and ask me nicely.”
“You’re fired,” he growls, cutting me off before his mouth slams over mine.
“What do you say, baby?” Without a moment’s breath, I whisper, “Please.” Cole freezes. Silent, staring down at me. He delicately brushes my hair behind my ears, looking down with approval before his hand travels to my throat, keeping my face on his as he pins me in place. I swallow, feeling his hand tighten over the motion. I’m at his mercy. He leans down, brushing a feather of a kiss over my already swollen lips. “I knew the day we met that you’d be a—Good. Fucking. Girl.”
“Everything is totally normal. And cool. So cool. Just as long as I don’t act like a horny weirdo and try to fuck anyone else.”
This is exactly the situation I was trying to avoid and still seemed to manifest because my pussy is a traitor. She’s literally the most unreliable ride-or-die. And she just set me up, making me all woozy with hormones that I forgot I was practically naked.
“Someone could wake up?” I whisper, knowing full well I’m not stopping this. “Then they can watch me fuck you.”
Yes, I am, Netflix. It’s okay to have free time like four days a week. And on Saturdays. Shut up.
“Tell her,” I challenge, huffing a laugh, “and I’ll tell her that you only go to church because you’re trying to fuck the priest after you read about it happening in some fucking romance book.” “Ohhhhhh…” The word is drawn out like the line of battle. “Low blow. That book is fucking spiritual self-care.”
Jace stands halfway before sitting back down, muttering, “Wait a minute… what?”
“Just kidding.”
I’m about to get fucked in the eye. I hear Reed make a sound, and my heart starts beating faster. Cole rubs himself against my face again, forcing my eye to close. I’ll need an eye patch after this because I’m pretty sure I’ll get pink eye from this shit. Looks like slutty pirate’s on deck for this year’s Halloween costume.
“Why are you so dumb? God, I hate this trope.”
I know my men are watching my every move, watching my ass sway behind me. And I’m thinking of all the ways I want them to violate me.