Page 82 of Wicked Revenge

He returns a minute later holding a tub of something in his hand. He leans down and kneels on the bed, opening the container and scooping out some white cream on his fingers.

The second his hand connects with her red ass, she hisses and clings to me tighter, fluttering her eyes open as she tries to scoot away from the offending pain.

“Stay still, Baby Girl. This will help,” he tells her softly, as his other hand grips her hip, halting her movements.

Her eyes flutter open and lock on mine for a moment before she cranes her neck to look back at him. He soothes her with soft words as he slathers her ass in the cream until her body relaxes back into me and she lets out a deep sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says hoarsely, her voice strained from screaming as much as she did. He sits the container on my nightstand, then climbs back into the bed next to us, careful not to press against her ass.

“Yes, thank you, Daddy,” I say, smirking at him, but my eyes tell him how grateful I am for easing the pain I caused. I was going to do it after we got up and showered, but I know she appreciates the relief now.

His eyes darken even more at my playful tone, and he not so subtly adjusts himself, keeping his eyes on mine. More of that unfamiliar warmth fills my chest, and my well-spent cock decides to stir to life. I’m still naked, with Raena’s thigh slung over me so I know she feels it pressing into her.

Chancing a look down at her, I see her eyes open and a smirk playing on her lips as she stares at Maddox. My eyes dart to him. He’s holding her hand next to her face, smirking back at her. Letting my head fall back into the headboard, we all fall into a comfortable silence for a while until Raena taps my arm.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she says softly, untangling herself from me and crawling off the end of the bed.

All three of our hungry eyes follow her until the door shuts behind her. After a few minutes, I hear my shower turn on, and as much as I want to storm in there and shower with her, I also know she probably needs a few minutes to herself.

“Hand me my phone from the nightstand,” I tell Alek.

When he tosses it at me, I immediately open the message I got from King earlier and stare at it, hoping it will give me some insight into where he is keeping her.

It's a close-up of her upper body, though. There isn’t much to discern from it. I can see sunlight peeking around her, so it doesn't appear she is being held in a basement. There is a tiny sliver of what appears to be a window behind her, but nothing of any detail that will help us.

I hear the water shut off as I toss the phone on the bed and climb out. I doubt she wants to walk around naked all day, so I grab one of my shirts and black boxers from my dresser before grabbing a pair of sweats for myself. I need a shower, but I am not ready to wash the scent of her off of me just yet.

I’m just pulling them up over my ass when she steps out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. Her red curls are thrown over her shoulder as she leans forward, her head tilted to the side as she squeezes them out in another towel.

“Those for me?”

A cocky smirk plays on her lips, her eyes darting to the clothes I’m holding hostage. I stand frozen to the spot, enraptured by a single droplet of water that runs down the column of her throat before it disappears down the valley of her breasts.

Finally, snapping out of the daze her enticing body captured me in, I make my feet move to the end of the bed where she stands, tossing the clothes down on the bed. I still can’t make my mouth form words as I catch a whiff of my body wash coming off her skin. It does strange things to my cock, smelling myself on her, and I just want to bury my face into her freshly showered skin.

I’m vaguely aware of the towel she was drying her hair with hitting the floor as a startled gasp has me snapping my attention to her face.

“What's wrong?” I ask, concern bleeding into my voice, my eyes darting around to find the cause.

“What the fuck is this?” She says, her voice sounding detached and cold, so unlike the woman who was screaming my name a little while ago. My heart rate picks up when I see where she is pointing.

My phone screen is lit up, lying next to the clothes I threw there. The image of my terrified sister with a knife to her throat is still on my screen. My heart breaks at the image, the same way it did this morning and again when I looked a minute ago.

“That’s our sister. King sent it this morning after you went upstairs,” I tell her, reaching towards her to pull her into my arms, wanting to give us both comfort, but she shrinks back away from me.

“Th-that’s not your sister.”

Her whispered words are broken by a heavy sob, and she clutches the towel at her chest as she slowly backs away. I’m so fucking confused by her words, I barely acknowledge my brothers when they get up from the bed and inch closer to her. My hand is still suspended in the air while I try to work out what she means.

“Of course, that’s our sister,” Alek says, moving towards her. Her back hits the wall with a soft thud as she slowly slides down, curling her body around her knees and shaking her head. He kneels down in front of her, reaching up to lift her chin so she is looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

“That’s my daughter. That’s Emera. But it can’t be. She’s dead. I saw her body covered in blood. I don’t understand.”

Her breath and words come out choppy as she lets go of the towel and runs her fingers through her hair, tugging on the roots. She is spiraling out of control, confused at what she is seeing versus what she believes.

Suddenly, as if everything the pieces of the puzzle we’ve been missing slide into place, it fucking clicks.

“No, no, no…” I roar out at the fucking realization of what this is.

---