Page 200 of Quinlan

“The only way I stop fucking this pussy is when you come.”

She keeps saying no, and I let her. I slow my thrusts, pressing the tip next to Liam and Damien’s line. Pushing through the resistance of her skin. Her body relents to me, the first drop of blood glistening on the metal. Quinlan moans and grinds her hips on the counter, as desperate as I am for that friction.

It’ll end up hurting her. I won’t have that.

“Don’t move.” My glare is enough to stop her.

“Please, Rome, I’ll be good.”

“Oh, now you want to come?” Damien strokes her hair.

I fix my attention on her stomach, on the red line I’m embedding into her flesh.

She grabs my wrist, her gray eyes wild. “Yes. Do it.”

The cut I’ve made matches that of my friends. I do the same thing they have, swiping my tongue along the blade. Tasting her sweet, addictive blood, then discarding the knife.

“I love it when you’re good.” Carefully, I pull her upper body to me. I wrap an arm around her back and fucking her with everything I have. “I love you.”

“I love—” She clenches around me, her body tight and ready to burst. “I love you back.”

Every part of me fucks every part of her. My cock. My mouth. My soul. This is what I needed today. This connection. The taste of her blood and lips and tongue.

This is the best revenge I could ever hope to have.

Living. I fucking live.

“Rome.” Her orgasm throws me right over the edge with her. I kiss her harder. I fill her up with so much cum it’s trickling out of her, on my cock, on my balls.

We come down from the high, and I pull out, tucking myself in. Liam’s next to me, a wet cloth in his hand. He dabs it over Quinlan’s red, swollen lips, her clit, but not before I shove our cum back in. As much as I can.

“Open wide.” While Liam cleans her and Damien cups her cheek, his thumb stroking her reverently.

She does, sticking her pretty tongue out for me. Sucks and licks my fingers that have our orgasms coating them.

“My turn.” Quinlan’s breathing hard when I remove my fingers from her.

“To fuck us?” Damien pulls her face to him, his eyebrow quirked. “It’ll be a first, but I’m up for it. Maybe later, though, after—”

She shakes her head as much as his grip allows, her soft hair moving with her. “Marking you.”

Not cutting you. Not hurting you.

Marking you.

The sound of it is possessive. It’s loving.

It’s derived from understanding. She’s choosing her words carefully, for Damien, if I had to guess. We kidnapped her, tortured her, cut her flawless skin and marked her, and she’s being careful with his heart. With ours.

Regardless, the idea of putting a knife to Damien’s skin…

Liam is done cleaning her, closes her legs, and moves aside. Both of us are visibly concerned. All of us are looking at him.

“I’d be honored.” Damien reaches for the knife, offering it to Quinlan. When she grips it, he releases her face, placing his right hand between them. His offer, verbal and physical, is a breath of fresh air. Damien’s lips twist into a smirk, and he points at his ring finger. “On the left one, we’ll have a real ring. Soon. But I need the second one marked by you.”

Quinlan sits there on the counter. Naked. Her neck is flushed. Her eyes glint.

Three red lines are on her stomach. They’re there to stay. She’s beautiful. And smiling.

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