Page 180 of Quinlan

“I thought…you didn’t tell me anything, because you knew you’d get rid of me.”

Rome’s thunderous eyes and clenched jaw are terrifying. He’s a thunderstorm. A hurricane. I talk regardless. I need to expel this…thing inside me. I need to believe Damien. I need to believe them.

“About you and the walls you two have built around yourselves.”

“Tomorrow,” Rome groans. Kisses me. One hand in my hair, the other on the side of my neck, and that’s all it takes for him to own me. He yanks me so hard into him that we’re almost one. When he pulls back, his voice is hoarse. “Tomorrow, we’ll talk. I swear it. And, Quinlan?”

I feel Rome. Feel what he’s going to say in this loud, deafening silence. I ask, anyway. “What?”

“I love you.” Each word is calculated. Strong. As powerful as the man who’s saying them.

My heart lurches out to him. My soul begs me to reciprocate. To admit that I’ve fallen for them, as wicked and controlling and ruthless as they are. That they have a million secrets, and none of them matter.

I’ve fallen for them, and nothing could ever change it.

In my fragile state, though, saying all of this is too much. I’m too confused and emotional and raw. Instead, my body talks. My hands rise to Rome’s neck. To the pulse that’s beating erratically beneath his fingertips.

“Why won’t you tell me tonight?”

The answer I’m looking for doesn’t come from Rome. Liam materializes out of nowhere, jacket off, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. I’m in his arms in the blink of an eye. Flames flick behind his gaze, his mouth pressed into a set line.

“I love you,” he starts. His mouth is on mine, his tongue swiping at my lips. “Tonight, little flame.” One second, I’mlooking at Liam. The next, silk covers my eyes. Lights out. “You’ll learn to trust us. You’ll see how well you know us. The only men in your world.”

Rough, scraped knuckles trace the curve of my spine. Then Rome’s fingers tug at my tank top.

His hands rip it apart.

“You are.” My breath picks up, a desperate attempt to get more air into my lungs. “There’s no one else. You won’t leave me. I know that now.”

“We have to make sure.” Rome’s impatient when he shoves the tank top off me. “You haven’t been acting like you believe in us.”

“Like Rome said.” I hear the smirk in Damien’s voice. The taunting. His grip on my hair isn’t playful at all. He’s at my side, tugging on it, and a dark, short laugh is what I get for my surprised yelp. “You were alone with all these fucking thoughts, crying. Hiding from us.”

“What should I have done? Begged for you to care?”

“If you’d have trusted us.” Liam’s fingers bite into my cheeks while a third pair of hands pushes my underwear and leggings down my legs. Rome’s.

“You’d have known there’s no need to beg.” It’s Liam again, his hands cupping my breasts, my waist, his lips skimming my jaw. “You’re ours. We love you. If you’re hurting—be it from guilt or grief or pain—we’re here for you. There’s nowhere we’d rather be than be here for you.”

“You’re going to see how well you know us.” Rome grips my hips, pulling me to him while Liam holds me up for balance. He shoves two fingers into my pussy, curling them. “We’re going to play a little game.”

“By the time we’re done with you”—Damien licks my cheek, pressing a soft, deceiving kiss to my tattoo—“you’ll know each one of us very well.”

“You’ll never forget the lesson from today.” Liam’s voice is followed by his rough hands, pushing me to my hands and knees. His lips are in my ear, his hot breath making me wet. Makes me shiver all over. “Other people won’t matter. No. One. We’ll love and take care of you for the rest of your life. Only us.”

“Liam,” I call out when his warmth is gone. “Please.”

He says nothing.

Sounds of belt buckles, zippers and clothes dropping to the floor, echo in the deafening silence. My fingernails dig into the plush rug beneath me. Goosebumps prickle on my sensitive skin. I’m exposed, emotionally and physically. Completely bared to them. Vulnerable.

Rome promised, though. He said he’ll be honest tomorrow. He’ll be vulnerable too. Will make me feel less disposable.

Damien didn’t promise a thing, and yet… I’m sure he’ll do the same.

My lungs expand, fresh air filtering in. I’m no less terrified of what the men have in store for me. Whatever it is, it won’t be sweet. They won’t tend to my soul with sonnets. I won’t have more love declarations whispered in my ear.

This is going to be bad. Painful.

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