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They were keeping me safe. Protecting from these people there. Hence why they’ve been driving me to and from work. Why we’ve been hiding our relationship.
Why they came at Christopher like that the other day, ready to annihilate him.
They’re protecting me from the hotel’s members.
Has to be it.
“Muffin.” My tears of sadness morph into those of joy. “Killie.”
A smile tugs at my lips. Serenity trickles into my heart.
They really love me.
This Christopher dude is the one that should be looking over his shoulder.
Because when they find him…
The asshole is dead.
My last thought before I drift back to sleep is that I wish I could do something to prove to them I’m strong. That I can be aware of the danger and they can still be my saviors.
I’m dreaming again.
Carter is spreading my legs wide open. I feel his hair on my thighs. His breaths are hot on my wet pussy.
His gray eyes hone in on me in the darkness while his fingers massage and part my pussy lips. He dips his tongue to my slit, pushing inside my sex. Licking up to my clit.
“Carter.”
He doesn’t answer in my dream. Only trails Cyclone’s blade just over my clit, the cold metal making me shiver. His teeth nip the sensitive spot, then his knife sends bursts of desire through me.
The other man worships my breasts. The man whose tongue circles my pierced nipple. Whose lips suck hard and mercilessly.
“Killian.”
He moves on top of me. His muscular legs brace me on either side of my face. His hand grips my chin, pinning it to my chest.
“Open up, beautiful girl,” he whispers. “Going to stuff your mouth with my cock. I need you.”
“I need to be inside you, too.” Carter’s mouth leaves my pussy, his knife discarded somewhere. “Fuck you until you’re boneless, pet. And I won’t stop there.”
I need them there, but in my dream, I can’t tell them that. So I whine in protest instead.
Carter cups my dripping pussy, my arousal soaking through his hand.
“No whining.” One of his fingers presses into where I’m desperate for him. “You’ll take what we give you.”
Killian smacks my lips with the crown of his cock. A salty bead drops on my tongue, and I swallow it greedily. His precum is mine. Let them call me a brat, I’m never giving it up.
“Dirty girl,” Killian whispers.
Why are they whispering in my dream? I don’t like it.
I want my growling, loud, and ravenous men. I want to go back to reality.
Pinching my eyes shut, I shake my head, willing myself to wake up.
“There she is,” Killian says above me.
