Page 6 of Gilded Dreams

“Atlas, more, I’m so close! Yes, lick me!”

He works me so fast the pleasure pouring over me borders on pain. But I can’t push him away. I don’t want to. I want all of him, anger, and all. Icravethe feel of him as much as he seemingly burns for me.

“Atlas, please. Please make me come.”

Sharp heat flashes through me and an uncontrollable pleasure soothes over the burns with a strength and speed that leaves me gasping for air.

Brogan bends over me and hollows his cheeks taking a nipple between his lips, and Ryder pinches the other. The whole eroticism of three lovers working me adds another layer of molten heat to my already sizzling core. It’s exactly what I needed. All three. At the same time.

My throbbing clit takes a beating from Atlas’ tongue and when he sinks two thick fingers into my tight, slicked, desperate pussy I clench around him and ride the wave of my climax. A film of perspiration breaks out over my body. Breathy cries fill the room and I momentarily forget about everything and everyone except my men and what they just did to me.

My utterly blissful moment is short-lived.

Within one breath and the next Atlas shoves to his feet and my legs drop from his shoulders. Panting and still shaky from my powerful release I watch as Atlas rubs at his face, wiping my juices from his chin.

I flinch at the anger on his features.

He grabs up my clothes and tosses them at me. With his face an inch from mine he snarls, “You got what you wanted. Now stay the fuck away from us, Kandy. Get dressed and pretend this never happened. I never want to see you back here again. We’re no good for you.” His voice is hard and final.

Ryder is on his feet. His hard length hangs between his massive thighs, red and angry with need. “What the fuck, man? You want this.WEwant this. What will it take to get you to understand this will happen?”

“Never! I told you this before. She’s fucking off-limits!” he roars and buries a fist into a nearby wall.

I turn three shades of red and flinch when wood paneling splinters around his fist. Time for me to go.

Brogan puts a hand on my shoulder and turns a deadly glare on his friend. “Maybe you don’t need to be such an asshole. You’re scaring her, douchebag.” He buttons his jeans and tosses a look around for his shirt.

I jerk at the blanket beneath me and fight to cover myself.No good? Never wants to see me again?Shards of my dying heart break off and fall into a black hole in my chest.

“You know I’m right. God damn it!” he barks at his friends. Both grab at their clothes—Ryder his jeans and Brogan his shirt—and make quick work of covering their gorgeously ripped bodies all the while my heart can’t find the strength it needs to beat.

“We will break her with what we want, and I can’t do that.” His dark eyes tear across the small quarters to me. “I won’t have another broken soul on my conscience. We’re filthy fucking bastards who kill for a living. The least we can do is leave her to find someone who can give her a normal life.”

Fury and pain darken his expression until I barely recognize the man in front of me. What does that mean? “Did you ever think about asking me what I want? What I think?” I snap sharply.

His expression turns inflamed. “You’re too fucking young for what we want, butterfly.” I bat away his use of the pet name he’d given me the first day we met because of my small size compared to his.

“Don’t mark me off as some lightweight, Atlas. Underestimating me would be a mistake.”

“You coming here was a mistake. It will be the first and last time. If you love us even a fraction of how much we love you, don’t darken my steps again.”

My brain zeroes in on his confession of love and the other two not throwing out denials.

But I also notice his tone. He speaks as if his word is final law and I feel a rage come alive in me that makes my fist want to connect to his jaw.

“We’re going to take a walk. By the time we get back you need to be gone.” His voice is low and animalistic.

He steps away from me, and I physically feel the distance Atlas puts between us. The cold seeps in and it burrows bone-deep. Ryder and Brogan do the same and I don’t know why, but that hurts more than when my hard-ass stepbrother did it.

I shove my feet into my skirt and jerk on my halter top in a haphazard way.

“You can’t do this.” Despite feeling mad enough to burn a town down, my voice is weakened with desperation and the pain of rejection.

Ryder and Brogan stand to the side, their gazes pinned to me, their expressions touching on everything from stark fear to acceptance. But they remain unmoving.

I slice a hand from one to the other. “So you do what he says? What are you—loyal dogs?” I find my voice again and force a little more of my wrath into my words. “Do you come to heel when he says, too? Aren’t you too old for that bullshit?”

Both Ryder and Brogan remain unflinching from the bite of my words.

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