“I know you would,” I murmur.
She releases a long breath, tilting her head as she watches me. I’m sure I’m nothing more than a shadow—that’s all she is to me, considering how dark it is. But I can just barely make out a gleam in her eyes, a reflection of the little light that’s made its way through the curtains.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Her voice is low, almost timid.
“You can’t see me.”
She laughs, although it’s more like an amused exhale. “I know what you look like, silly. I’d never forget a face like yours. But I… I guess I meantyou.”She taps her finger against my chest. “Life hasn’t treated you fairly, and you could’ve let yourself be consumed by bitterness and anger. You could’ve turned into such a hateful person, but you didn’t.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh, although it’s more sad than anything else. “Depends on the day, sweetheart.”
“You try,” she says gently. “That’s all anyone can do.”
“I suppose.”
“And I admire you for what you’re doing. For fighting to get justice for Sammy.”
“She deserves justice.”
“So do you,” she whispers. “And I’m here with you every step of the way until you have it.” Her breath skates across my cheek, her lips so close to my own it’s almost a kiss.
Once again, I’m struck by how well Wren has adjusted to our life. She’s having her troubles—of course she is—but none of them are because our goal for the last ten years has been to dismantle Ludo’s life and then kill him, slowly and sweetly.
She’s too fucking perfect.
Ever so slightly, I shift, catching her mouth with mine. She lets out a surprised sound before relaxing and grabbing at my hair. My own hands travel farther up her waist, careful to move over her shirt instead of dragging it upward.
I’m not sure who deepens the kiss, or who feels the potent, heady need first. But one moment the kiss is perfectly chaste, and the next Wren is panting into my mouth and I’m groaning into hers.
As I cup her breasts, her grip on my hair tightens. I almost stop, worried I’ve gone too far when she doesn’t want me to, but then she grinds against my hardening cock. My thumbs swipe over her peaked nipples, and she whines.
So goddamned hot.
Almost as if it has a mind of its own, one of my hands continues up her body until my fingers are wrapped around her throat. I keep my grip firm without squeezing, groaning as she rolls her hips again.
Her whine turns into a series of whimpers as I play with one of her nipples and hold her while she continues grinding against my dick. I’d keep her like this until she’s crying and begging for more, but that’s not what either of us need right now. What we need is—
Fuck. Not this.
Shit, this is a bad idea.
It’s the last thing I want to do, but I break off the kiss. “I don’t want to use you. Not when you’re upset.”
Her shoulders sag at the realization. “I don’t want to use you, either,” she whispers. “But I want to give you a distraction.”
As I peer at her through the darkness, she places her hands over mine where they’ve slid to her waist. I want her—how could I not? My problem is that I don’t want her to feel obligated to make me feel better. That’s no one’s responsibility but my own.
Sensing my hesitation, she smiles, and I swear it actually lights up the room a bit. “I think I could use one too. But only if you want.”
Relief billows through me. “Of course I want to, sweetheart.”
Instantly, I’m grabbing her throat again, pulling her forward and fusing my mouth to hers. She sighs against my lips, and it’s such a sweet sound.
She deserves justice.
So do you. And I’m here with you every step of the way until you have it.
The guys and I have made it clear that we don’t own each other. We’ve done the same with Wren, except a time or two in bed. Secretly, though, I’ve always disagreed. Elliot and Oliver each own a piece of me, pieces I never thought I’d give to anyone. And now, with Wren, I don’t think I even have a choice in the matter.