Page 52 of From the Ashes

My orgasm crashes over me so hard that I barely remember to keep breathing as Crew’s cock hits the back of my throat, but they hold me steady as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me, leaving my body trembling and empty in the best possible way.

Bishop follows me over the edge, his roar of release only seeming to extend my own pleasure as he pulses inside me, filling me with hot ropes of cum.

Stars dance in my vision as Crew’s thrusts lose their rhythm and he fucks my throat harder than any of them ever have before. He’s cursing and murmuring praise as he gets closer to the edge, and I’m powerless to do much more than hand my body over to him and allow him to use me as he needs.

Hot salty ropes of cum hit my tongue a moment before he buries himself deep, and I swallow everything he gives me, desperate to do as I’m told.

As we each come down from our highs, neither of them pulls away, remaining buried inside me as we catch our collective breath. The only sound in the room is each of our heavy breaths, and for a single blissful moment, I forget about all of my responsibilities. I forget that the men buried inside me are responsible for my father’s death. I forget all the reasons I should go back to the estate and forget this ever happened.

Because the reality is, no matter how much I should do all of those things, I know I can’t. I’m in too deep.

Crew’s the first to withdraw, his cock slipping from between my lips, and I collapse forward into him. He chuckles and tugs me against his chest, holding me close as he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead as Bishop pulls out.

The gush of release that slips from my aching pussy should have embarrassment rushing over me, but the groan Bishop lets out tells me I have nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, love.” He brushes his hands over my ass before he grasps the end of the plug. “Breathe in and out for me, Camilla.”

I do as I’m told, and when the plug pulls free from my ass and I’m completely empty, I already find myself missing them.

“You did so good, Little Menace,” Crew murmurs against my temple before he presses another kiss there. “Come home with us tonight. We miss you. The compound isn’t the same without you there.”

My heart constricts in my chest as I stare up at him. This is it. This is where I make my choice, and I need to make sure whatever decision I make is one I can live with.

I swallow at the same time a phone starts vibrating somewhere behind me. Bishop rustles around with the discarded clothing on the floor, but I don’t even bother lifting my head from where it’s resting on Crew’s shoulder as we hold each other’s gazes.

“This is Bishop,” he barks down the line.

There’s silence for long seconds as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line before he groans and says, “We’ll be right there.”

“Who was that?” Crew asks when the phone is thrown beside us.

“It was Wyatt. He said there’s movement at the wreckage of the fight club.”

“Why can’t Kovu or Kaos go?” Crew asks, his grip on me tightening.

“He couldn’t get ahold of either of them.”

There’s silence for long seconds as the cogs tick by in Crew’s gaze as he stares down at me. “Go back to the estate tonight. Pack your shit, and we’ll be on your doorstep in the morning to officially move you into the compound.”

My hesitation only lasts a second before I nod. “Okay.”

All the fight is long gone, and all that’s left is acceptance.

I was a fool to ever think I’d be able to leave them.

CHAPTER FORTY

KAOS

Seeing as I can’t track down my father, I’ve settled for the next best thing.

Charles Davenport.

The two of them seem to be in business together for however long it takes them to overthrow us, which means I have a decent shot of seeing Caleb if I follow Davenport around for long enough.

Sitting in the corner of Sally’s watching two half-naked women rub up against him isn’t how I would like to be spending my night, but the last couple of nights he’s slipped me around this time, which meant I couldn’t hide out in my car and wait for him to move on to the next stop in his tour of the business he does each night.

I take another drink of the whiskey I insisted be poured from a brand-new bottle in front of me and look down at my phone. I’ve messaged Camilla a few times over the last few days, but she’s yet to respond.

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