Page 42 of Their Dark Rose

Other than their rooms, there’s a pantry and laundry room. The dining room, living room, and kitchen are either wide open or have glass for walls.

In other words, I’m fucked.

Literally too, soon, if I don’t move my ass.

A part of me begs me to stay in place. Whispering how I’d love the pain.

“Four, little rose.” Finn’s maniacal voice sings at my back.

Fear travels up my spine. When he talks like this, his words sound like an interlude to murder. Not a foreign concept to this man.

Downstairs. I’ll go downstairs and maybe, maybe I could be fast enough to reach the front door.

“Three.” Mason elongates the word as I fly down the stairwell.

He’s entertained. This somber man finds my situation an occasion to smile about. As dark as he sounds, I can tell he’s smiling.

I would’ve been elated. But I’m scared. Too scared. My fight-or-flight mode is in overdrive, and I don’t glance back.

My clammy hand slides over the wooden banister on my way to the first floor. My pussy and wounded nipples are sore. I’m slick between my thighs. Shaking. Almost stumbling down the stairs.

None of it matters because…

“Two, princess,” Falk counts. The rain pounds harder, like my heart. Dulling out his voice.

I’m not fooled by it, though. He’s coming.

They all will.

I’m just about to hit the first floor, but I might as well still be in my bedroom. I hesitated for the first two counts. Lost precious seconds I could be…what? Out in the pouring rain? Running past the driveway and out the wrought iron gates to where?

Away.

My godfathers’ steps are wider. They could’ve given me a full five minutes, and they’d still have eaten up the space I’d put between us.

As I shove the glass sliding door to the living room to the side, I consider my options. And once more, I ask myself whether I actually want to break free. Refuse their touch.

“One, Briar.” My name on Finn’s lips is sinister. Even in the distance, his voice is sharp. Decadent. Poisonous, even.

The two floors separating us don’t do shit to dull the smile I hear in his voice.

I make it six feet into our vast living room. Six feet closer to the large, wooden front door.

Large, tattooed arms wrap around my midriff. I scream as he drags and pins me into his firm chest. A thick, hard erection presses to my ass.

And a metal ring brushes against my ear. “Little rose, there you are.”

The men in the movies make these words come off as sweet. Endearing.

Finn and those characters have nothing in common. Not a damn thing.

The men on TV wouldn’t have huffed a heartless laugh at a woman’s screams. Their cocks sure wouldn’t swell from their woman’s sheer panic.

“Let me go!” Words form in my mouth.

“You don’t want it?” He grinds into me, running his nose down my neck. His teeth nibble on the crook of my neck. “Sure of that?”

Saying no doesn’t even cross my mind.

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