Page 51 of Whispers and Warriors
“Good thinking,” Chris added. “It’s farther back and should shit hit the fan, we’re between Emma and it.”
“Though Ranger saved the day last night.” Bash added with more than a little bitterness in his tone.
“And you,” she reminded him. “Ranger stopped him, but you were the one who came and saved me. Stop beating yourself up for things that are bound to happen. It’s fucked up, but Iaccepted the dangers when I left the basement. I’m just as much to blame for the danger.”
“Agree to disagree,” Bash growled as he climbed up onto the top bunk.
She chuckled, happy to see his grumpiness returning meaning he was comfortable, too.
She moved to the full bed, Ranger following without her calling and watched as they filled in the remaining three beds.
“Chris?” She yawned the middle of his name. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”
“Who said I was sleeping?”
“There’s no need to stand watch. We’ve basically been up since yesterday morning. You’re not the one actually in charge right now. Get in the bed.” She pulled the covers back and got in, not waiting for him to respond.
The bed dipped as he reluctantly climbed in, his arm immediately draping over her body.
Emma’s eyes fluttered closed, the weight of her exhaustion pulling her toward the sweet oblivion of slumber. But even as her mind drifted, her hand reached out to touch Ranger’s fur when he jumped up beside her, a tether to the world she had fought so hard to protect.
TWENTY
Emma stirred,her eyelids fluttering open as consciousness slowly returned. The first sensation that registered was warmth—a comforting blanket enveloping her body. Blinking away the sleep, she realized the walls weren’t the walls she’d expected to see, and the blanket wasn’t a blanket.
She was nestled between Bash and Chris, their arms draped protectively over her. It had been weeks since they’d fallen asleep like this, and it had to be why she’d gotten so good sleep.
And certainly not because you slept the two nights before in drenched clothes freezing on a tiny boat.Emma bit back a chuckle to prevent from waking the others.
For a blissful moment, the fears and uncertainties of the past week melted away, replaced by a profound sense of safety and belonging. Emma breathed in deeply, savoring the musky scent of her lovers mixed with the crisp morning air. Their steady heartbeats and gentle breathing were a soothing lullaby, a precious reminder that in this broken world, she had found a haven.
A simple blink of her eyes and she was back on the boat. Memories flooded in—drenched and screaming, her heartpounding as the man leaned in too close, his breath hot against her skin. His rough hand reached out, brushing against her in a way that made her stomach churn with fear and revulsion. Panic seized her as she remembered the struggle, the desperation clawing at her throat, until suddenly Ranger was there, a beacon of hope in the darkness.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and Emma squeezed her eyes shut tighter, forcing away as much as she could.
You’re not there and nothing happened.She bit into her lower lip.You don’t need another Marcus, another event that leaves you crippled. Shake it off.
Wiping at her eyes, Emma blew out steady breaths, careful to only focus on the men in this room. They slept so soundly, likely drained beyond measure how rowing against a storm just hours before. She let her mind wander back to the times in their arms, be it in bed, or just walking around the safe haven.
We need a new name for that, it was not a haven.
The thought pulled a chuckle, and suddenly the weight of the man vanished off of her, leaving no remnant behind. For now.
Careful not to wake them, Emma shifted slightly, studying the peaceful expressions on Bash and Chris’s faces. Bash’s rugged features were softened in slumber, the lines of stress and vigilance smoothed away. Chris looked younger, almost boyish, without the weight of leadership resting solely on his brow, though the scar on his cheek would forever betray his battles.
As she lay there, cocooned in their embrace, a mischievous thought began to take shape. The horrors from the storm still lurked at the edges of her mind, but she wanted to push them away. To make sure her men knew she wasn’t broken or too fragile to touch.
Perhaps a playful wake-up call was in order, a reminder that even amidst the darkness, joy and passion could still flourish. Emboldened by the security of their embrace and her desire forcontrol, Emma made up her mind on what the six of them would be doing for the foreseeable future.
With an impish smile tugging at her lips, she shimmed out of the bra and underwear she’d slept in, ready to prove to them she’d thought this through and wouldn’t break. It was time for a game, one that would reaffirm their bond and chase away the lingering shadows. In the sanctuary they provided her when they were together, Emma knew she could be bold, unapologetically claiming the happiness they had fought so hard to preserve.
Her fingers moved with deliberate slowness, tracing feather-light patterns across the taut planes of Bash and Chris’ abdomens under the blanket. She’d never used both her hands this way before, and the thrill of knowing she’d hold them both in her grasp drew a small pulse of her body. Emma savored the heat of their skin, the firmness of muscle beneath her touch. Gradually, she allowed her caresses to drift lower, grazing the sensitive flesh just above the waistbands of their boxers.
As her hands slipped beneath the fabric, Emma couldn’t suppress a shiver of desire. She let her hands glide over them again, slipping inside Chris’s boxers and merely finding Bash bare as he always slept.
She wrapped her fingers around their semi-hard lengths, marveling at the contrast of their dicks. Bash’s was thick and heavy, while Chris’s was longer without the pulsing vein Bash had, and while thick, not as thick. With a gentle grip, she began to stroke, coaxing them to full hardness.
A thrill rushed through her as their cocks hardened and pulsed against her palms, heightening her playful attraction into a deeper lust. Arousal pooled low in her belly, a molten heat that demanded more. The rhythmic glide of skin on skin, the intimate connection, the power she held in this moment—it was intoxicating, a balm to soothe the lingering scars of their recent ordeal.
