Page 32 of Torn Souls

“Don’t ever apologize for defending yourself,” Baker’s voice is husky. I feel him look over his shoulder at the men still standing in the doorway. “We’re good. I surprised her and she acted.”

“Did you hurt her?” Kirill’s voice is ice cold, the threat and warning clear in his tone.

Baker scoffs, the sound oddly relaxing. He whines, “You should be asking me if she hurt me, not the other way around. She has a very pointy knee and moves like a fucking ninja on speed.”

A laugh is barked out, I’m sure from Maxim. When I peek around Baker’s wide chest, I find three sets of eyes staring at me with concern.

“I’m okay,” I promise them.

When they don’t move, the fear of being in trouble starts to take over. My breathing becomes choppy and my vision swims in front of my eyes. I try and calm the feeling, focusing on each set of eyes looking at me, but it doesn’t help. Not even a little bit.

The longer they look at me, the more I feel like I can’t breathe. Are they going to punish me? Is Baker? He can say I was surprised and defended myself all he wants, but what does it really mean? I don’t even know these men and now I’m in their house, on their turf, under their rules.

“Hey, little bee,” Baker’s voice is soothing, “you’re okay.”

He lifts me into his arms effortlessly and starts to stride out of the kitchen, barely slowing enough for the other men to move out of the way. One of my hands clings to his shoulder, his bare skin grounding me for a second, while the other wraps around the back of his neck.

Embarrassment creeps in alongside the fear that I’ve just fucked up.

“Where are you taking her?” Kirill’s question is more of a demand than a request for information.

Baker doesn’t even look in his direction, but throws over his shoulder, “I’m taking her to my room. I think it’s fair considering she just laid me out on the floor. That tile is hard,” his voice is lighthearted, but I still wince at the words.

I can hear the men behind us grumbling, but no one stops us. Baker’s steps are steady as he carries me up the stairs. Hedoesn’t stop until he lays me on a bed in the room I recognize as his. Not only can I see enough from the moonlight shining in the windows, but I would recognize his smell anywhere.

It’s light and woodsy, but with a hint of something dark on the edges. It’s all him.

“Where did you learn those moves?” Baker’s question is whispered as he positions himself to hover over me.

I should be running. His imposing figure blocking out the rest of the world should feel stifling. But it feels grounding instead.

My legs part and his hips nestle against mine as I answer him, my voice small, “Even though my father tried to control everything I did and insisted I attend finishing school style classes for poise and manners, he wasn’t around much. I realized that with the men he would sometimes allow into our home, men I didn’t feel safe around, I needed to be able to defend myself. He never knew I took self-defense and kick boxing classes as well as a few styles of martial arts. I’m not going to win any competitions or anything, but I don’t feel as vulnerable as I used to.”

Baker’s body softens, his warmth seeps into me and helps me to relax even though the contact of our skin has tingles covering my body.

His soft lips kiss my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, and my chin before hovering over my lips. The way he waits there, asking without words, has me closing the distance between us. I let out a gasp at the contact and Baker uses it to his advantage, his tongue sliding between my lips and coaxing mine to play.

The kiss turns from something like comfort to an inferno within seconds. Need I’ve never experienced before has my legs wrapping around his hips and my pussy, which is covered in onlya scrap of lace since Kirill fully stocked me with sexy underwear, something I found no reason to complain about. The man wants to spend way too much money on lace. Who am I to argue?

“Should we be doing this?” I mumble the question against his lips.

Baker chuckles and I can feel the vibrations from his chest with our bodies pressed so close together. “If you’re worried about the other guys, don’t. I won’t say we’ll never be jealous, but it’s a problemwewill have to deal with and not something you need to worry about or manage.” His lips trail along my jaw and down my neck. “Let me take care of you,” he pleads against my skin.

“Please,” I gasp.

I can feel the way his lips curve into a smile as he levers himself up and away from my body enough to glide the nightie I’m wearing up my body to uncover my breasts. He practically lunges at me and sucks one of my hardened nipples into his mouth.

My back arches as I moan out my pleasure. His mouth is warm and wet and when his teeth scrape against my nipple, my hips lurch.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” his words are muffled as he presses his face between my breasts. “You’re going to come all over my tongue, Oaklynn.”

The dominance in his voice, the demand I know I won’t be able to ignore, has my entire body trembling. My hands grip the sheets on either side of my hips while he slithers down my body. His warm breath dances against the soaked lace of my panties.

He angles his shoulders between my legs, forcing my body to move and give him the room he needs to settle between my thighs. Without needing words, my body responds to him, and I become pliant for him.

With a firm tug, Baker rips the lace from my hips, the scraps of fabric thrown over his shoulder without a care. When he looks down at me, taking in my glistening pussy, my breathing becomes erratic. He’s looking at me with a feral hunger I can feel skittering along my skin.

His eyes roam up my body and meet my gaze. “Earlier when you put me on my ass, I thought I had never seen anything sexier. I was wrong.”

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