Page 37 of Recurve Ridge

I reeled, swaying where I stood. The unchecked dark desire in Robe’s eyes, the way Jon watched me, even Will…. But Miller sure didn’t count in that group.

“What about you?” I don’t know why I said that. Of all the things that could have come out of my mouth, those words seemed the least reasonable.

Alan’s cold lips brushed against hot skin. “Oh, Mari. I’m first in line. Robe denied me, wanting to claim you for himself, but that’s not how we play here. We’ve always shared… everything. You should be no exception.” He trailed his knuckles over my shoulder, crested the curve of my breast, and paused at my hip. “I’ve learned to take what I want to survive. What I need to enjoy my fucked-up life spent far away from everything I love.”

“He’ll kill you.”And probably me too. But death’s shade and I had become used to each other. I doubted adding Robe’s penance to my life-threat collection would be any more daunting.

“Maybe it’ll be worth it to taste you.”

The morose thought of losing Robe’s trust, so hard earned yet freely given all at once, the complex man he was hidden behind a wall of muscle and checked shirts, tore at my heart.

“You might have given up faith in him, but I haven’t,” I snapped.

My body returned to itself. Sensation slithered along my arms and wakened numbed legs. I thrashed away from the fingers encircling my throat, kicking out at anything at all. But my tiny personal-assistant ass couldn’t compete with the trained killer at my back.

Alan’s arms imprisoned me against his lean frame that seemed far too strong for his sleek body. I’d become complacent, trusting in the bulky mass of wild mountain men like Robe and Jon, not understanding the threat of a lesser-built man who could still overpower me. So I fought, but my throat still wouldn’t let me scream.

I scratched and hit and flailed until Alan laughed, catching my chin to force my head back. He propelled us forward until my cheek hit a cold, flat surface that halted our progress. Gripping my wrists in one hand, his other found my hip and delved beneath the slinky material of my top to touch bare skin.

“No—” I choked, my voice cut off as he tipped my chin back, arching my neck at an unnatural angle, and placed his mouth over mine, stifling my words, snuffing out my air. The contact curled around me with intimate fingers, but he didn’t kiss me. Rather, his sharp mouth muffled the cry that finally came to my aid, torn out of me by shock.

Too many hands, so many touching?—

But the phantom prickle didn’t come. Alan’s slinking hands replaced the many, only two to focus on as he pushed long, artistic fingers beneath the waistband of my borrowed sweats to slip lower.

My breath caught in my throat as he leaned forward, his body arcing over me so I could feel himright there. The evidence of his raw need pressed into me from behind. His mouth brushed mine in a sweet kiss so out of place with the threatening environment he’d created by blacking out the room and pinning my front to the wall.

Hot lips vied to contest against the mirror’s cold surface pressed to the rest of me as he flicked his tongue into my mouth when I dared part my lips and suck in a shattered breath. His kiss was brief but potent, and my legs trembled with strain and a thin thread of need. No one touched me apart from Robe, and Jon that once. Contact was maintained at the barest minimum, like I’d explode or destroy Robe’s fragile world if I allowed Alan to push me too far, except for the one night Robe had let me sleep with him.

Now I’d never get the chance to discover if I had that power alone or not.

Alan stroked a single finger along the center of my panties, grazing my clit to settle over my heat. Wetness pooled there, my nipples tightening beneath the flimsy material barrier between us, my body taking over while my mind screamed a withering protest. Arousal stoked low in my belly, and my hips jutted forward, needing the release he offered.

Broken, broken, broken.

I whimpered, heat flaring in my cheeks, drying the tears that touched them. “I’m so fucking ruined.”

“No,” he cooed, cold lips searing my mouth as he swallowed my shame. “You’re like us.”

My heart exploded as his fingers slipped lower, slicking along my heat. I cried out, a splintered sound. For the first time in so long, my body’s reaction to touch from another human came from need over fear.

Iwantthis.

Alan knew. Somehow he understood what I needed more than I did when it came to my own body. That made it so much worse and better all at once.

I wanted to cry at the revelation. A moan lodged in my throat from the simple touch of his clever fingertips. He dragged his knuckles along my slit, taking his time. No sense of urgency layered his caress as pressure and desire built within me, aching for release while he continued at an inordinately slow pace.

“My sweet little Mari. Such a beautiful slut.” He licked the shell of my ear and bit down on the lobe, sucking and nibbling.

I sighed, leaning back into him. “It feels so bad.” The moment his hand stilled between my folds, I knew I said the wrong thing. “I shouldn’t be able to get aroused after what happened.” It made everything in me soruined.

“You’re like us.”

But the comforting thought Alan had given me that Ifithere, like every one of the broken men in the house, coated my residual fear in a sugary sweet temptation.

To be licked off and savored.

Alan’s finger worked me again while the heel of his hand ground at my clit. My legs parted a little for him, easing his access.

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