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“Couldn’t be a better time, Miss Carmichael.” I flank Amara at the other side, placing a hand on the small of her back. “We were waiting for you. To discuss you and your shop.”
She grimaces.
Oh, fuck no.
Something’s definitely up.
Be it a client or her parents, someone is going to pay for doing this to her.
It’s a promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Amara
As soon as the door shuts behind the three of us in the office, someone winds his fist in my hair.
“Hands on the wall.” Carter tugs on my locks, his voice gruff in my ear.
Killian takes the vase from my hands, placing it somewhere behind us.
Carter’s teeth are on my neck. “You’re making me wait, A.”
A thrill courses through my body. My toes tingle.
My heart, however, that asshole still feels. Still hurts. Reminding me of why I rushed over here.
When I don’t do as he says, Carter yanks at my hair harder. Killian’s firm hand sneaks up to my throat from my side.
“Muffin.” I gaze into Carter’s eyes as mine start to water.
“Begging won’t work today, pet.” He shoves me to the wall, pressing my cheek against it. “Not now. Not after you came here without calling us first. Not after nearly giving me a heart attack.”
“Carter.” His name on my lips is a plea for him to continue.
I thought I wanted to talk. I don’t. I just want to be touched. Groped. Hurt by these two strong men.
Have the pain pummel through the thoughts of my grim future.
Neither Carter nor Killian listen to my silent plea.
They move in tandem as they manhandle me. Carter steps to my side. Killian wrenches down my underwear, grips my hips, and hauls me to his front. My ass is pressed to his hard cock. My hands are being forced to the wall by Carter.
“You have no idea how worried we were.” Killian grabs a fistful of the skirt of my dress, shoving the soft material up my waist.
After the violence I witnessed at the bar, I should be scared of them. Of the rage they exuded. I should run for the hills, scream for help.
I won’t.
I’m desperate for more. For everything they can give me.
Because they’re not mad at me for being here. Aren’t ashamed of me.
They care.
My sexy, feral forces of nature. Their cruelty has been a surge of love and life, mending my broken heart. The way they defended was a beacon of light to the darkness that almost swallowed me whole.
I don’t care that they’re a little too aggressive to be hotel managers.
