Page 40 of Sweet Misery

“Then let’s kill him,” I whispered.

Mass visibly stiffened in his seat as I dragged my gaze back to his.

“What did you just say?”

“I said, let’s fucking kill him,” I repeated, this time a little louder.

Mass slammed his hands on the arms of his chair.

“Go to bed, Sever,” he said tightly.

“Just fucking listen to me?—”

“Go to bed,” he whispered in that deadly voice he reserved for when he was struggling to not explode.

Irritated, I got up from my seat and went to the door. I paused at it and looked back to Mass.

“Get to know her, Mass. Then you’ll understand why I’m so fucked. Just wait. Roe and Ren will be too. Then you’ll see.” I left him there, feeling fucking lost.

But my feet dragged me right back to where she was sleeping with Roe and Ren. I stood outside their door, wishing I wasn’t who I was. Wishing I didn’t have all this shit in my head. Wishing I was… fuck, what? What could I be that was better for her? Who could I be so she’d want me like she clearly wanted my brothers?

I rested my hand on the cold wood, my heart in my throat, the familiar burn of anger choking me.

She’d love me. I’d make her.

She was going to die anyway. May as well make it worth it.

15

ARIANNA

Ispent a week with the twins. Something had changed. I wasn’t sure when or why exactly, but it had. I sat on the edge of my bed in the white t-shirt Renzo had given me, watching as he moved slowly around the room.

They’d rewarded me with a warm bubble bath and a dinner of my choosing tonight. And a kiss from each of them.

And the kiss wasn’t on my mouth.

They both ate me out, my legs tied and spread wide across Roman’s bed earlier that day. Their tongues thrashed against my aching clit. Sucking. Nipping. Licking. I’d come three times for them, spraying everything. They were feral as they groaned, swallowing all I gave them, hungry like I’d just given them a five course meal after starving them.

It did something to me.

Now I was alone with Renzo since Roman had to leave with Massimo and Sever.

They’d not given me panties or a bra, but at least I had on an oversized t-shirt which went to my knees.

“What’s your favorite color?” Renzo asked, pausing to stare out the window.

“Um, I like blue,” I murmured.

He turned to me. “Blue? Really?”

I nodded, tugging nervously on the hem of the t-shirt.

He smiled at that and went back to looking out the window.

Deciding I wanted to make conversation with him, I asked him a question.

“What’s your favorite color?”

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