Page 47 of Kissed By Shadows

He stops, lowering me to my feet, and I look around us to find I’m surrounded by black marble, the lights low, and a copper bathtub full of bubbles and smelling herbal.

“Use the toilet first, then I’ll help you get in the bath,” Hunt orders, and even after everything that just happened, my cheeks heat. He raises a brow as if to say,Really?

Taking a measured breath, I head over to the toilet and sit down, my cheeks burning the more he stares at me. When I’m finished, I wipe, wincing at the tenderness of my poor abused Evangeline, then make my way back to him.

“Happy?” I sass, embarrassment still colouring my hot skin.

“Good girl,” he replies simply, and a shiver tightens my nipples, which only makes him smirk. Bastard.

He steps in, keeping his hand in mine as he helps me into the tub, a sigh falling from my lips as the hot water caresses my skin. Then he sits down, opening his legs wide before tugging my hand in a silent command, so I do the same, turning my back to him and moaning as I lean back against him. I hiss as the water hits my tender pussy and arsehole, though the slight sting soon ebbs to a dull ache. The water is blissful, but it’s having my skin pressed up against his, his arms around me and pulling me close that has me utterly relaxed.

“We used to fool around,” he tells me, answering my question from earlier. “But I guess we kinda stopped in the past couple of years. I miss the rugrat though sometimes.”

“I’m always here, Daddy,” Roman states as he strides into the room, wearing grey sweatpants and nothing else, carrying my glass of iced tea and a plate with what smells like a cheese toastie. My stomach growls and they both chuckle, Roman kneeling beside the bath. “And I miss you too, Hunt.”

There’s an edge of vulnerability to his tone, and I sit up, reaching over to cup his face in my palm, tugging him to my lips. He comes easily, still holding the food and drink as his lips meet mine. Twisting, I tangle my fingers in Hunter’s hair, hauling him down to us, and all three of us moan when his lips meet ours, his tongue coming out to tease mine and Roman’s.

It’s a slow kiss, not a passionate frenzy, but a lazy exploration of each other, and I pull back first, letting them share a few moments together. It’s beyond hot, watching Hunt dominate the kiss, Roman making a small whimpering sound when Hunt nips his lip.

“When I’m not so fucked out,” I tell them, my voice breathy, “we will be doing that again, in bed. I want to see what else you guys enjoy about each other.”

They both laugh, Hunter placing a soft kiss on Roman’s lips before moving away and leaning back.

“Anytime, Peaches,” he says, closing his eyes for a second. “Now eat your toastie and drink your tea.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I tease, and his hands grab my hips under the water, pulling me further back into him, his hard length pressed between us.

“Don’t tease me, Iris. I already showed you I don’t need your consent, and I don’t care how fucked out you are,” he growls, his words rumbling against my back.

Roman laughs, and I glare at him, but he holds out the toastie—the fucker—and who can be mad when there’s grilled cheese?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“LOST MY MIND” BY ALICE KRISTIANSEN

IRIS

After Roman has made sure I’ve eaten every last bit of the sandwich and drunk all the iced tea, Hunter washes me with his rosemary body wash, his calloused hands gliding all over my skin. He touches me in such a reverent way that tears spring to my eyes, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite as worshipped before.

He makes us get out as the water starts to cool, covering me in a huge fluffy towel that is warm from being on the heated towel rail. He doesn’t say anything as he quickly dries himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist and then taking my hand to lead me into his room.

On the bed is one of the twin’s T-shirts and a pair of fluffy bed socks.

“Little shit,” Hunt murmurs, huffing a laugh as he takes the towel from me, tossing it in the bathroom before helping me intothe shirt and socks. The shirt is Roman’s, his scent surrounding me, and I can’t help snuggling into it.

“No shorts?” I ask, and Hunt just raises a brow at me that has me swallowing hard at the dark promise in his eyes. Even Evangeline baulks a little at the idea of another round, still sore from my first threesome.

“Get into bed, Peaches,” he commands, and clearly feminism has never heard of Hunter Anderson because I don’t even roll my eyes, just let him lead me around to one side before climbing in. He tucks me in like I’m a child, dipping low to press a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I watch as he takes off his own towel, tossing that into the bathroom too—who knew he’d be such a slob—and then he pulls out some grey sweatpants and a white vest, slipping them on before heading towards the door.

My heart sinks, a lump forming in my throat.

“Y–you’re not staying?” I ask, my voice small and cracking a little as tears threaten to fall. He pauses, then turns to face me, and his brows dip before he’s striding over to me, crouching low so his face is level with mine.

“Fuck, baby, I’d love nothing more than to climb into that bed right now and hold you all night,” he tells me, his hand reaching out and swiping under my eye, at the tear I didn’t even know had fallen. “But, being the leader of a gang like the Shadows comes with a fucking long to-do list. I’ll send Roman in, and I’ll be back later, okay?”

Licking my lips, I take a deep inhale, trying to see past my initial hurt at what felt like a rejection. This is the third time he’s left me after we’ve been intimate, and it brings up feelings of abandonment I’d rather forget. I’m also not ready to admit, even to myself, that I want him to stay so badly.

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