Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“Morning,” a low voice rumbled against my hair.
The Stag.
Every nerve sharpened at once. They were all wrapped around me, a wall of heat, and limbs tangled with mine. A heavy, big hand shifted, dragging absently up my ribs, thumb grazing bare skin before settling again.
I swallowed. “We… fell asleep,” I said, like it was the strangest part of all this.
The Stag huffed a quiet laugh that vibrated through his chest. “We took you hard,” he murmured. “Sleep was inevitable.”
Behind me was The Black Mask. I knew that even without looking at him. His low chuckle had my body tightening, goosebumps forming on my arms and legs. His chest pressed more firmly to my side for a second, then he relaxed. His nose brushed the crown of my head in a lazy, unconscious nudge that made my throat tighten.
At the end of the bed, the third weight—The Skull. He shifted and muttered something incoherent, and I glanced down to see him sling an arm over my ankles like he was still claiming space.
I tried to move and realized with a jolt that The Black Mask kept his arm banded over my chest like a living restraint. My breath snagged. His hand tightened briefly at my hip, a silent acknowledgment that he felt my shift… that he wanted me to remember who held the power here.
I’d move when they said I could.
“Careful,” he rasped near my temple. “You squirm, and I’m going to forget I said we’d let you rest,” The Stag growled.
“Who says I need rest?” My voice came out raw, scraped thin from the times before. I was shocked I’d said the words.
“I know I don’t fucking need rest.” The Skull’s gravelly voice drifted up from the foot of the bed.
Another life, another version of me, this scenario would’ve sent me bolting for the door.
Instead, my stupid heart tripped over itself knowing these three men didn’t want to leave me, at least not right now.
“How long was I out?” I asked to distract myself from the reality of this situation.
The Black Mask stroked a lazy path along my hip with his thumb. “Long enough for the storm to stop trying to take off the roof,” he said. “Not long enough if you’re thinking straight.”
That part was debatable.
I forced my mind away from the heat of their bodies that were pressed full-length against mine. I tried not to think about the way The Stag breathed against the side of my head, or the heavy warmth of The Black Mask’s arm draped over my body like he was still claiming territory. I couldn’t ignore the way The Skull dragged his tongue along my calf, then gently bit until pain and pleasure became one.
“I need,” I said, not sure what I was even asking for.
Three bodies shifted at once.
The Black Mask loosened the arm around my waist, carefully and slow. The Stag’s hand tightened on my hip first, then loosened. The Skull rolled off the bed entirely, stretched until his spine cracked, then stepped aside without comment.
The bedding slid down my torso as I sat up. Heat crawled up my neck and chest at the fact I was naked. But I reminded myself they had seen everything. Done everything. And yet, the exposure felt sharper in daylight.
My legs wobbled when I stood. I wrapped the blanket around myself like makeshift armor.
“You okay?” The Skull asked, leaning a shoulder against the wall, his dark eyes scanning me with quiet calculation.
“I can’t answer that honestly,” I said.
The Skull’s lips curved in a slow, knowing smile. “We’ll take that as a win.”
I didn’t let myself look at any of them again as I crossed the room. It felt too much like admitting how much I… loved this.
Inside the bathroom, I braced my hands on the sink and forced myself to meet my gaze in the mirror. My hair was a wreck. My lips were swollen. My pupils still too wide. Faint red marks circled my throat. Smudges of bruises bloomed along my hips. I’d expected to look broken.
Instead, I looked like someone who was finally awake.
“What the hell am I doing?” I whispered to myself. The mirror didn’t answer, but the air shifted behind me. There was a slow creak of floorboards followed by the quiet, unhurried murmur of men who knew exactly what they’d done to me and what they meant to do next.
I closed my eyes, just for a heartbeat, letting the truth settle like heat under my skin. Last night and this morning weren’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a line crossed, burned, and buried.
Whatever waited outside that bathroom door—the three of them, the storm’s aftermath, and now the consequences of my actions—I knew one thing with bone-deep certainty.
I wasn’t done with them. And they sure as hell weren’t done with me.