Page 124 of Claiming Pretty

The weight of what I’d just proposed hung heavy in the room, but I didn’t give myself time to second-guess it.

Without a word, I turned to the table where journals and notes lay scattered across its surface, a chaotic reminder of the horrors we’d already uncovered. I swept a few aside, making space for myself, and climbed onto the table with deliberate calm.

The wood was cold beneath me, grounding me as I stretched out across the surface. I closed my eyes, forcing my breathing to slow.

Inhale, exhale.

I let my body go limp, my muscles relaxing one by one until I felt weightless.

With my eyes closed, all my other senses heightened.

The musty scent of old leather and ink filled my nose, mingling with the faint spice of Ciaran’s cologne and Ty’s musk.

Every sound seemed amplified—the rasp of Ciaran’s uneven breaths, the brush of clothes as Ty picked himself up off the floor and walked around me, the distant hum of the loft’s floor lamp.

The hard edge of a journal pressed into my shoulder, and a cold draft brushed over my skin, raising goosebumps I fought to ignore.

I kept my face slack, my breathing steady, pushing down the adrenaline surging through my veins.

“Well?” Ty’s voice broke the silence, expectant and sharp.

“Well, what?” Ciaran snapped back, his frustration bubbling over.

“This isn’t much of a test, is it?” Ty replied. “Dosomething to her.”

“Do what?” Ciaran’s tone was wary, his voice tight with suspicion.

Ty hummed thoughtfully under his breath, and I felt the faint brush of his thigh against my arm as he leaned closer.

“Whatever you’d like to do to her,” he murmured, his words a slow, deliberate taunt.

Anticipation began to hum under my skin, the tension unbearable.

“What… What would you do to her?” Ciaran’s voice faltered, low and raw.

I could almost imagine the wicked hint of a grin that played like a passing shadow over Ty’s face.

“Would you like me toshowyou?” Ty asked, his tone dangerously soft, as if daring his brother to say no.

Before Ciaran could answer—or maybe he just nodded—Ty ripped my top open, the cool air making my nipples harden instantly.

He ran his rough palms over my breasts and I lay there like a doll as pleasure surged through me.

It had been weeks now since my twisted therapy with Ty in Blackthorn. But the dark sensation of not being in control of my body had never left. It lurked in my subconscious.

I clung to it, a wicked thrill rushing through me at the thought of being helpless and laid out on this table for my two dark lovers.

Ty rolled my hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and the desire to moan was so strong that it made my chest tight to the point of pain.

But I clutched on to that darkness deep within me, cold and slick as oil. And I kept silent.

Ty slapped my breast hard enough to leave a mark, but I didn’t even flinch.

“Don’t hurt her!” Ciaran yelled.

Ty’s chuckle under his breath made shivers go down my spine. “Hurt? Hardly. She can handle more pain than you realize, dear brother. Go on… try it.”

I couldn’t see my Scáth from behind my closed lids. All I could use to judge his state of mind was his ragged breathing and the lusty strain in his voice as he said, “This iswrong.”

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