Page 36 of Kissed By Shadows

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“TOUCH” BY SLEEPING AT LAST

HUNTER

It’s after midnight when I finally finish up all the shit that needs doing to keep the Shadows running. Growing up, I didn’t realise how much effort it takes organising a criminal enterprise, especially one as extensive as we are. We may not be as big as the Russians, but we have fingers in all sorts of pies all across the West End of London, both legitimate and not-so-legitimate.

With a sigh, I turn off my Mac, getting up and stretching my back with an audible crack. Grabbing my phone, I head towards the short corridor that leads to my room before pausing, and then with a sigh, I switch directions and head towards my sister’s old room that Iris is staying in.

Agreeing to protect her started as a way to pay back the debt I owed for her help with Willow. She gave my sister something that I couldn’t, and no matter how that stung, my wounded prideis nothing in the face of the knowledge that Willow is safe and maybe even happy because of the woman now lying in her bed.

I should have known that it would become more than the need to fulfil my debt, especially with how I’ve kept track of her over the past months, and the moment she wrapped those perfect lips around me, I was gone. The need to protect her became more than an obligation, more than just a form of repayment. She became the light that has been missing from my life, the softness that tempers all my hard edges.

Padding on silent feet—a trick all unwanted kids learn—I silently push open the bedroom door, the sounds of heavy breathing soothing something inside my soul. The low lights are still on, highlighting the three figures curled together in the large bed, and a pang of wistfulness hits me so hard that I take in a sharp breath.

I’m happy to be in control, to lead men and women who otherwise wouldn’t have anything, but just sometimes, I wish my life could be less…pressured. I can’t remember the last time I got a full, uninterrupted night’s sleep, never mind a sleep so deep that the small sound of an opened door wouldn’t wake me.

“You okay, Hunt?” Rowan’s soft whisper floats to my ears, and I tear my gaze from the beauty in his arms, meeting his dark gaze on the other side of her. Looks like old habits die hard and the door woke him after all, which is good considering the precious thing he’s currently protecting. I nod, taking one last, lingering look, and then start to turn away.

“Please stay.” Her gentle plea stops me in my tracks, and I look back over to find myself locked in her gaze as she stares over at me. Her stare pins me in place, her eyes almost luminous in the low lights. Fuck, she’s so beautiful it hurts.

“There’s not enough room,” I tell her quietly, not wanting to wake Roman.

“You take my place and I’ll sleep on top of you,” she answers, almost as if she’d been thinking of how to solve the problem of having three large guys in her bed.

Fuck. The idea of having her weight pressing down on me all night sends a bolt of pleasure running through me. It’s not just sexual, though my dick is rapidly filling with blood. It’s the comfort of knowing that we’re all together, that she’ll spend the rest of the night in my arms, that the twins are either side of us, which has my chest warming. We’re tied together, the three of us, and have been since I met them as ten-year-olds and saw the pain of rejection that mirrored my own inside them.

We’ve been inseparable since, our relationship deepening, mine with Roman becoming something more than we ever envisaged. Though I waited until he was old enough, not wanting the fact that I was older to affect things. And for the past couple of years, we’ve drifted apart a little, which is probably my fault as I become absorbed in keeping us all safe, of keeping the gang going and thriving.

She gives Rowan a light shove, and without even a grumble, he gets out of bed. He probably already knows what I want, what I need. He’s always been the most observant of us all. My need to be close and protect, to keep them safe runs deep.

Fuck it.

My hands drift to my belt buckle, undoing the clasp and pushing my jeans to the floor. Normally I’d pick them up, but tonight I feel bone weary, the lure of being surrounded by the people I care about too much to resist or keep waiting. My T-shirt follows before I stride across the room, sliding beneath the warm covers in a matter of moments.

Every muscle in my body relaxes as the heat from their bodies seeps into mine, and I shuffle into the middle, Iris making room for me by pressing closer to Roman, who grumbles in his sleep. The bed dips on my other side as Iris moves herbody on top of mine, her small weight settling on me as she lowers herself down.

My arms immediately wrap around her, my dick twitching as her thigh brushes over it. She politely ignores it, placing her cheek on my pec as an exhale leaves her body.

“Comfy?” I ask, my fingers stroking up and down her back. Roman snuggles into my side while Rowan’s arm comes over me to rest his hand on her lower back. It reminds me of the times they’d stay over when we were growing up, all of us trying to escape our shitty realities.

“So much better now you’re here,” she mumbles sleepily, her lips brushing over my skin, sending tendrils of fire racing across my body. Soon, her body grows heavier, her breaths fanning across my chest turning even as she falls asleep on me, and it’s the best fucking feeling I’ve had in a long time.

“We’re never letting her go,” Rowan states, so quiet that if I hadn’t been so awake still I would have missed it.

“She’s one of us,” I say back, skating my palm along her spine. She arches into my touch, a soft breath leaving her lips.

“And I’ll gut Sergi, Bratva or not, if he tries to take her,” Rowan vows in the dark, and I glance to the side to meet his stare.

“I’ll help you, brother,” I agree, knowing that I would start a war to keep the angel in my arms safe. I wonder if Nikolai Petrov knew that? Is that why he sent her to us?

Whatever the reason, I’m glad that she’s here, and like Rowan said, we’re not going to let her go.

“MIDAS” BY SKOTT

IRIS

Loud banging rouses me from sleep, a furnace underneath my cheek and surrounding me as I try to surface from the dream I was having. I don’t remember much, but there’s an ache in my core that makes me think it was a pretty good dream.

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