Page 60 of Eden's Deliverance

I lock lips with The Prince, and Penelope straddles her guy on the bed to kiss his neck. The Prince steps backwards until his knees hit the edge, pulling me down onto his lap to mirror the other couple.

I’m so ready for this. I’ve been a pent-up mess since Christmas Eve with Skylar, and I don’t even care that Pen is about to watch me get fucked. I guess I’m going to watch her too.

I know the alcohol is running deep in my veins when the euphoria sets in. The Prince kisses down my neck, trailing from my throat all the way to the swell of my breasts, and I throw my head back with a low groan as I savor the attention to my sensitive and neglected skin. His lips suck fresh bruises into my tender flesh, and I squeeze my thighs around his hips, grinding down on his cock to seek the friction I so desperately need.

Something about Eden sets my soul and body on fire. I don’t know if it’s the atmosphere, the superb bartending skills, or something else…but I’ve never felt as free and transcendent as I do when I’m here.

As if perfectly scheduled to ruin my buzz, the door to our room crashes open behind me. I don’t even get the chance to turn around and see what the commotion is about before I’m being lifted off The Prince’s lap, thrown over someone’s shoulder, and carried out of the room.

From a distance, I hear Penelope and the two men going off about what the fuck just happened, but we’re already at the end of the hallway and reentering the den of degenerates.

I kick and scream to the best of my ability, but the position I’m in is making me lightheaded, and every kick just results in a hardthwackto my ass. Not one person has run up to save me or even ask if I’m safe. They all think it’s part of the party’s shenanigans, but I’m in trouble.

Real, ass-spanking, punishing trouble.

We pass through to the opposite side of the den, but before I can scream one last time for help, we enter a bedroom and the door slams shut behind us.

I’m thrown down onto the bed, but I’m quick to gather my bearings now that the blood has drained from my head. Rising to my knees, I turn to confront him, absolutely fuming. “What thehelldo you think you’re doing? I was fucking busy!”

SMACK.

A hand strikes me so hard that I fall to my side with a gasp, instinctively grabbing my cheek to soothe the singed skin. When I look back, they’re both standing at the side of the bed with their arms crossed—dressed to the nines in navy-blue suits.

In what I think is a sly move, I slide from the bed and charge at Casanova, shoving his chest with both hands to offset his balance.

He grabs my wrists, forcing them down and around his waist, effectively locking me in close with my arms trapped behind his back. I struggle to break free, but he somehow ensnares both of my wrists with one hand, using the other to rip my hair back until we’re face to face.

Panting heavily against each other’s mouths, we share a cloud of hot, angry air before he attacks. He kisses me with such fervor—such passion and heat—that I can’t breathe anymore. For a moment, I almost forget how pissed I am at him for stealing me away from what could have been a new and exciting experience.

He finally pulls away to give me the chance to breathe, only to mock my intelligence. “Did you think we forgot about you? What, you don’t trust us to follow through?” he asks with a smirk.

My lips are swollen, tingling with every word. “Is that a serious question? When have you ever followed through with me?”

All they do is leave me hanging, waiting like a dog for its bone.

“But you came.”

“You threatened me!” I shout, but his face twitches at the accusation, like he doesn’t fucking know what I’m talking about. I turn to Broody, the person who most definitelydoes.“I found his note. I got his texts. Coming to my apartment was one thing, but my dad’s house? That’s really fucked up, even for you two.”

His entire demeanor flips like a switch before he releases me. “What the fuck did you do?” At first, I think he’s talking to me until he turns to Broody. “You left a note at her house?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Broody gestures toward me. “We wanted her to come, and now she’s here.”

Casanova faces me again, cupping my face between his palms. “He can be a real prick sometimes.” It’s hard to think when he’s thumbing my sore cheek, making me melt into his touch. “Stay with us.”Kiss.“We’re all finally together. Let’s enjoy it.”Kiss. “No Red Room, just the three of us, here. Let us make you feel good.”Kiss.

I’m startled by the warm hand grazing my neckline when Broody presses himself against my backside, trapping me between them. He swipes the hair off my shoulder before nosing into the crook of my neck, his other hand firmly planted on my waist.

Fighting through the pleasure and sensual touches heating me from the outside in, I lean back into Broody and ask, “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Yes.”

“But…” Casanova cuts in, sensing my tension. “You’re going to like it. I promise.” He thumbs my bottom lip, coaxing my mouth open for a kiss that requires little effort on my part.

Being with them is always effortless when they take control—like two brilliant puppeteers pulling the strings of their broken marionette.

I have to make a decision. I may have chosen to come tonight, but this is my final chance to walk away if that’s what I truly want.

But do I?

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