Page 46 of Crucible
Even though I deserve worse, I still feel that itch to hit her back, so I spit out a terse, “Suit yourself.”
Standing, I toss the cloth in her face.
It’s sopping wet, just like her pussy, so it lands with a satisfying slap as I put some much-needed distance between us.
Aurelia snatches the cloth from her face and shoots me a withering look. I don’t give her the satisfaction of returning one as I watch her use the cloth to clean her face and chest.
She’s too damn quiet.
There should be tears and hysteria, but she doesn’t bother with either. We’ll have to make quick work of breaking her in if any of us hope to get a good night’s sleep anytime soon. I’ve heard it only takes a matter of days in some cases for Stockholm to set in.
First, we make her fear our wrath, and then we confuse her with random acts of kindness—make her feel safe until her brain is so scrambled she doesn’t have any choice but to trust whatwetell her is real.
Honestly, it’s the most effort any of us have ever put into a woman—especially Khalil. Since my ears are still wringing from that slap, I don’t have to wonder if she’s flattered.
“Aurelia,” I call once she’s done cleaning Khalil’s spunk from her skin. If he feels guilty about what he did to her, he doesn’t show it. In fact, Khalil looks upset that his mark is already gone. If only on the outside.
I wait until Aurelia’s dead gaze rises to meet mine, and then I hesitate a moment longer because I’m about to violate her all over again. This time for her own good.
“What you’re feeling right now is understandable, all of it. I won’t make excuses for what we did when the truth is simple. We hurt you. We hurt you because we could. We’re bigger andstronger, and we hold all the cards. I want you to remember that when the shock wears off and you have only anger to numb you. You’ll tell yourself that you can live with what happened if you strike back at us, but I wouldn’t advise it.”
“We’re not very forgiving, Goldilocks.”
“What a coincidence,” she retorts and drops the cloth on the floor next to her. “Neither am I.”
It’s meant to be cold and cautionary, but it just comes out despondent and delusional. She has no power here.
Khalil raises his brows, but I nod. I can’t help but respect someone who fights to the bitter, tragic end.
“I understand. We don’t expect you to forgive us, but you better get used to us. One chance, Aurelia. Prove to us even once that you’re not worth the trouble, and we’ll make you wish you perished in that plane crash.”
Aurelia doesn’t respond for the longest time, and then she gives the tiniest nod.
Khalil exhales heavily.
Out of the three of us, he’s the only one hell-bent on keeping her. Seth is too, but his attention span is shit.
Tossing Aurelia out would be as good as killing her, which would be the point.
And such a waste of a good piece of ass.
Aurelia sucked our cocks as if it gave her meaning, and she doesn’t even know us, despises us even. Imagine what a few months with nothing else to do but wait for the snow to melt will do. Imagine if shefellfor us.
Seth helps her stand and then takes her face in his hands, bending a little to peer into her empty eyes—Aurelia’s here, but no one’s home. “Don’t let them scare you, Sunshine. They’re not so bad,” he tells her like he hadn’t used her to get off too. “Thorin and Khalil are just grumpy because we’re stuck up here, and it’s my fault.”
“Quiet, Seth,” Khalil snaps from Aurelia’s other side. They’re flanking her again, barely a few inches of space between them.
It’s unnecessary. Aurelia isn’t going to run, and she’s damn sure not going to ask questions. I doubt she cares what drove us to do what we did. What matters is that it happened.
Still, she doesn’t reject Seth’s touch as she did mine, and that acidic feeling from earlier burns a hole in my chest as I wonder if she likes him better.
It’s a fucking ridiculous thought.
Why should I care who Aurelia likes better? She belongs to all of us. She’ll sleep under my roof, warm my bed, and ride my dick when I tell her to, and that’s all that matters.
Aurelia is still staring at the floor, but there’s a furrow in her brow now, like she’s wrestling with something. It’s a far cry from the quiet desolation that seemed so deafening before.
I nod toward the bowl resting on the table. “Eat your stew, Aurelia. You’re safe here.”
