Page 15 of Snowed in with the Billionaires

Ren removes his hand from my mouth. They both suck their fingers, glistening in the dim light with my essence.

Kaiser tilts my face toward him and kisses me, catching my heaving, defeated breaths in his mouth. My head is spinning; my world swung off its axis.

I raise my hand to Kaiser’s chest, my intent to push him away. Instead, my fingers curl around the luxurious softness of his sweater in defeat.

My eyes spring open when Ren touches me again. I feel something sweep against my spasming pussy. What...

I break away from Kaiser and turn to Ren. He brings his hand up from under the blanket. Caught between his fingers is a perfectly fluffy kernel of popcorn. He pops it into his mouth.

“Delicious,” he says to Kaiser, who reaches for a kernel and coats it with the juices lingering on the lips of my pussy, then slips it into his mouth.

“You’re right,” Kaiser agrees.

I want to die.

No. I need to get away. The thought of walking out of the door into the frosty cold seems like the only thing that’ll cool me off. But I can’t do that. When I attempt to stand, they let me. I struggle for a bit, underestimating my legs would still work after what I’ve been through.

I wobble, almost fall back into Ren’s lap, before I push away, nodding and murmuring goodnight to everyone on my way out when they ask if I’m going to bed.

I go straight to the bedroom I used earlier. I don’t care that it’s Tristan’s. Well, at least according to Tina’s son, Parker, it is. I just need a place to lock myself in. Forever.

Dammit. I forgot. There aren’t locks on the damn bedroom door.

Chapter Ten

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Madisyn

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Imay be at risk offalling through the hole in the floor I’ll make from my frantic over pacing. This is not good.

I have to wrench my fingers from my mouth, worried I’ll start a new nail-biting habit I won’t be able to shake. Every time I try to think with some coherence, my body heats and sends a blitz of sensation through me, corrupting my thoughts all over again. I can’t win.

“Okay, calm down, Cohen,” I tell myself. I unclench my fists and take ten deep breaths. I’ve been in situations worse than this—no, I’m lying. When have I ever been in a situation where I was forced to sit between two billionaires, who parted my legs, touched me there, and muffled my shameful cries when I came, while the third billionaire sat and watched everything?

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