Page 124 of Quinlan

Quinlan is something else. Her need is nothing like theirs. She needs me forme. She needs me to tell her we weren’t messing with her head yesterday. That we meant it. That I’m hers. That she’s ours, even if she hates it.

“I am. It was my sister on the line. Anne.” We work together, Damien and me. Bring Quinlan to the floor, on her hands and knees. “The one you saw in the picture yesterday.”

The papers and my laptop on the table are poisonous. Filth.

They don’t touch me. It stays far, far away when I have Quinlan on all fours and my hands cupping her cheeks.

The relief on her face is intoxicating. She’ll put up a fight once she’s not high on orgasms and desperate for more. I’m sure of that. For now, she’s relieved. For now, she relents.

“We belong to you. We have, for a long time.”

Gray eyes widen below me. Understanding dawns behind them. Understanding… and hesitation.

“You don’t trust us.” Damien drops to his knees, his hands on her ass. I lower to my knees, still holding her face in my palms. “We expected this.”

“You know everything about me,” she accuses him while staring into my eyes. “The three of you.”

This is wrong, confessing to what we’ve been up to without Liam here. He’ll be happy, though. He’ll have time to talk to her, too.

She’s never leaving.

“We’ve had private investigators following you,” I tell her this truth. My fingers sink into her cheeks, where she’s blushing. Damien runs his hand along the curve of her back. Of her ass. “Every move you’ve made since you turned eighteen. Every business meeting. Whenever you jog. Ate. Worked at home. We were so proud of you when you opened your own business.”

“Wha—”

Her question transforms into a moan, getting louder and more desperate the harder I kiss her. It’s turning into a gasp as one of my hands lowers to the side of her neck and cuts off some of her air supply.

“When you showered.” Damien’s voice cuts through the hungry sounds she and I are making. “Don’t forget about that, Rome.”

Her eyes snap open. Brow furrowed. “Your investigators watched me shower?”

I narrow my eyes at Damien, pretending I’m angry. I’m not. He’s the one who put this beautiful expression on her face. Thefear and indignation, and fuck, it’s sweet. She has no problem with us watching her naked. Stalking her in the shower.

It’s the others she’s angry about.

“No one.” He’s naked from the waist down, his sweats and boxers shoved low on his hips. He’s tugging one of Quinlan’s butt cheeks to the side with one hand, stroking himself with the other.

I’m not attracted to him. The way he handles her, how he’s readying himself to sink into her pussy. That’s what gets me even harder. Feral. He’s so thick, I know it’s going to hurt her.

“Only us.” My mouth demands hers. My teeth need those plump lips to bite on. To devour her. I kiss her the way I’m craving. We’re lips, tongues, teeth. She fights me, this little one. This beating heart. “We had a camera there.”

“Why me?” she asks between kisses.

This isn’t the right moment. We’ve said too much already anyway. Who fucking knows if the next words either of us says will be the last straw?

She can’t run from us. She can’t.

I’m on my feet, casting my shadow over her. Darkness over light. Without another word, I push my pants and boxers to the floor. Tug on her bottom lip.

Dame and I communicate through our eyes.

“What did Rex—”

I push my hips forward. Damien thrusts his too. We’re inside her mouth. In her pussy. Filling her up.

Quinlan’s gagging. Choking. Gasping for air. But she gives in. She lets us move in and out of her, fuck her hot, wet holes.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” I groan, fucking her mouth.

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