Page 50 of Ruthless Beasts

“Fuck.” Mercer’s words were strained, and I understood. I understood completely because I couldn’t get a single word out of my closing throat.

“I wish I was the showerhead.”

I didn’t bother to glare at Ace. We all say stupid shit under duress, and didn’t the sight of Belle getting herself off with a showerhead constitute as duress?

Stalking forward, I picked up her phone off the counter and turned off the music. It took her a moment to realize the music was off. When the silence registered, her eyes shot open, meeting mine as the horror washed over her face. Her skin instantly reddened, embarrassment flooding her, and I don’t know why she’d be embarrassed. This was her space. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

My breathing came quick as I stepped toward her, her eyes wide. When I got close enough that the mist of the shower surrounded me, I stopped. I tried not to let my eyes roam over her breasts, tried not to find the slight curve of her stomach attractive. I tried, and I fucking failed. My eyes took her in greedily, devouring her without a single touch. Looking at a naked woman, feeling things I’d not let myself feel in five fucking years, and I knew it should feel wrong. But damn if it didn’t feel so fucking right in this moment.

My hand reached, practically prying the showerhead from her iron grip before placing it above her head, where it belongs. Her teeth pulled at her lip, victim of her anxious ways, making her bite down as her body shook in front of me. All I could think about was the look of bliss when her head was tilted back, when she sought her own pleasure, unknowing that we watched from feet away.

I stood, my height looming over her. How had I not noticed how small she was until now? Then again, I didn’t let myself notice much, had I? I hadn’t let myself notice the forest of greens in her eyes, or the divine smell of her skin and the musk of her need. I was barely coming to terms with the fact that she was mine, that I’d ignored all her needs completely.

This shouldn’t have happened.

She shouldn’t have been in here, taking her own pleasure when she had three men in this house who would give her anything she asked for.

“I—“

I cut her off before she could apologize for what we saw. Before she could act like it would not fuel all my dreams for months to come. “You drive me fucking mad, do you know that? Wanting you with my whole body while my mind tells me I shouldn’t.”

Her eyelashes batted heavy against her cheeks as she looked down, not wanting to meet my eyes. I used a finger, tilting her chin up, whispering an inch from her lips, “Do I make you nervous, little Belle?”

She didn’t answer, and that was enough of an answer for me. “Don’t you see you hold all the power here? All you have to do is ask us, and we’d drop to our knees and give you any fucking thing. You’ve got us in hold. How did you do it?”

The water pounded down, soaking my suit, and I didn’t care. Not when she was naked in front of me, her body needing. With her silence, I gave into temptation. Just this once and maybe later when I was alone, I’d punish myself with torturous thoughts of the betrayal I committed, but for now, the only thing I could think of was right in front of me, trembling under my touch.

“Ask for it,” I demanded.

She shook her head, denying my request.

I persisted. “Ask for what you want, Belle, and I swear I’ll give it to you.”

Her chest rose and fell, and my eyes drew to her breasts for a moment, not able to stop myself from raising my hand up and rubbing my thumb over her nipple. She hissed under the touch, her body tense as she pushed her breasts out, silently begging for more. I leaned one hand on the tile wall behind her and used the other to cup her breast in my palm.

“It’s sensitive, isn’t it? Ask me Belle, I’m begging you.” When her eyes fell behind me, watching Mercer and Ace, I demanded, “Look at me. What you want at this moment doesn’t concern them. What do you want? Do you want me to suck on this gorgeous tit? Run my fingers over your body? Make you scream? Do you want my mouth on your cunt?”

The dirty words fell from my lips effortlessly, and I should have been ashamed. She was my wife, yes. But I’d never treated her this way, spoken words fueled by lust and want. I’d never allowed myself to. I’d never even touched my lips to her after that day at the church. I didn’t want to, didn’t want to betray my dead wife.

But now all I could think about is how good the sin of betrayal could be when it was her warm skin and sultry moans. Without thinking further, I crashed my lips to hers, begging her silently to open up and let me in, let me feel the warmth of her mouth and taste her. I almost pulled away, and that would have been a fucking shame because the moment I pulled back, she leaned forward, chasing my lips with her own, taunting me with her unskilled mouth, and I was gone, lost to my need for this girl.

Had she kissed before me? Was I the first?

My cock throbbed at the thought of being so many of her firsts. I had to will myself to calm down because I was seconds away from exploding, and I’d not even touched her.

I could blame it on the time. Blame the fact that I hadn’t had sex in five fucking years for the reason I was so excited, but deep down, I knew that would be a lie. My desire didn’t stem from abstinence; it was rooted in the fact that I wanted Belle, maybe from the second I laid eyes on her, and all I’d let myself do was deny it.

I might regret this later, but when her wet skin was plastered to the soaked material of my suit and her body vibrated with whimpers, all I could think about was the now. Her hand came up, her tiny fingers gripping the wet shirt right above my heart. The place that should be dead. Except at this moment, it was beating so loudly, I couldn’t deny its life. My hand engulfed hers, making her fingers disappear under my palm as they rested against my heart. The steady thrum of our own soothing lullaby.

“Ask for it, little Belle,” I whispered against her lips, feeling the sting from when her lips were meshed with mine. How could I be such a powerful man when this woman had reduced me to begging, pleading for her to ask us so we could give anything she wanted? “Please.”

I thought she would deny us, deny me, as she’d done the other times I practically begged her. Instead, her eyes held mine. Her palm came up, stroking my cheek gently with her thumb, and I fought everything, used every ounce of strength to not pull away from her touch. To not let her look at me with pity or disgust at the part of me I can never heal from. The reminder I wore against my skin would always be there. I couldn’t change that. But deep down, I craved her acceptance, wanted it more than anything I’d wanted in years.

Her eyes deepened, her lips trembled, and yet she didn’t look away from me when she whispered. “Please, touch me.”

I closed my eyes against the touch, inhaling deep. “Tell me how.”

“Please Adam, just touch me.” She stood on toes, her lips finding mine for a quick peck before she whispered against them. “Make me feel good.”

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