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The bed bows with every hard thrust.
“Come on my cock like you want to,” he groans into the crook of my neck. My pebbled nipples brush against his chest and it’s all too much. “Come for me, my good little whore.”
I do it. Unashamedly, I come undone for him.
The moan of satisfaction only extends my pleasure.
The orgasm is still raging through me as he kisses me again, riding through my release and fucking me deeper and harder. “That’s my good girl. You’re so fucking perfect.”
He doesn’t finish like that. He turns me over onto my stomach, grabbing the base of my hair and tugging as he fucks me from behind, dragging out every orgasm and pausing before he reaches his own climax so he can take more time with me.
“I’m going to enjoy every inch of you. I’m going to make you completely mine.”
CONNOR
She’s terrified with the men watching.
At least that’s how it looks from my perspective. Her previously timid glances have turned to wide-eyed stares. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Are these real nerves or is she pretending? Or is she just feeling the effects of what we did together?
Fuck knows I am. She’s perfect. I already knew she would be. But last night was fucking perfect.
When she’s cleaned up, presentable as she can be given the circumstances, I bring her out to the kitchen. She barely slept. All she wears is my T-shirt and an oversized pair of pajama pants rolled up at her hips.
Her hair is combed through but her fragility and delicate features are entirely exposed. For a split second I question my pride given her fear. But she’s fucking perfect and she’s mine. All mine. Forever.
She is the only good to come from chaos and war. How could I not be obsessed with her?
With hesitant steps, I have to press against the small of her back to bring her to the kitchen. It’s modern, much like the entire estate, with clean lines and granite and stone that touch nearly every surface. I imagine she’ll change it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s hers to do as she wishes and needs.
Her delicate hand forms a fist, balling up the fabric of my shirt as we enter the room. Her bare feet pad softly, almost silently, on the cold tiled floor.
The men have arranged themselves there around the table. None of them appear to have slept last night. There’s always the risk of retribution. No one will be safe or secure for weeks, months, maybe even longer. Not until the last enemy is snuffed out.
My brother watches Madelyn and I get closer without so much as a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Best for everyone that way. He’s the only one who knows her. He’s the only one who knows the whole story. And it’ll stay that way.
“Madelyn, this is my brother.” I bring her over to him first. She’s shaking like a leaf as he holds his hand out for her to shake.
“Hello, Madelyn,” he says easily with the charming air he’s known for. Although he’s kind, she’s still hesitant and looks to me first before she takes his hand.
“Hi,” she says. I can hardly hear the words as they make small talk.
Madelyn lets me introduce her to all the men. She’s a good actress. She’s known who these men are for years. Knows their faces.
And they know her. They know far too much.
I don’t care for the way they look at her, gazing too long and appraising. My hand itches to clench a fist, to express my rage for their indecency. I don’t. I have to pretend I don’t feel the anger surging inside every time one of them looks down at her body instead of her face. I have to pretend that there’s nothing behind this but revenge.
That she’s my captive, that this was planned in the way they’re aware. That we haven’t used them and there weren’t ulterior motives.
The sound of the baby crying drifts into the kitchen. It’s soft. He has the calmest cry.
Madelyn reacts instantly, her body tensing up as she looks over her shoulder, toward the hallway to her child. She bites at her lip but doesn’t take a step toward the sound.
“Go,” I tell her.
She hesitates, those wide eyes peeking up at me.
“Are you going to make me repeat myself?” I question lowly with a hint of playfulness, although she doesn’t let on that she registers it.
