Page 128 of Gilded Locks
“Perfect.” She breathed in the familiar scent of them on her skin. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
Hunter pressed another to her shoulder.
And Stone bit playfully into her thigh.
Their absolute entitlement should have terrified her, should have sent her running toward whatever scraps of freedom she’d managed to claim. A month ago, they would have triggered every defense mechanism she’d built while fighting for autonomy. But after everything she’d experienced—Jordan’s downfall, her father’s rejection, their unwavering protection, the exquisite surrender she’d discovered in their arms—she found herself craving exactly what they provided.
Their fingers lingered over her skin with deliberate intent, skin against skin like electricity seeking ground.
Together, they led her toward a future that promised to be everything she’d never dared to dream. And she realized, through the deepest trust she’d ever known, in her surrender, she found her true worth. Not as their submissive, but as their salvation. Hunter, Stone, and Ash needed her as much as she needed them. Apart, they could be too violent, too cold, too consuming. Separately, they were everything wrong. Together, they were just right.
Epilogue
Gold, Fur, & Fire
Spoiled didn’t begin to describe Marigold’s new life. Being doted on by three powerful men at all times could have that effect.
But it wasn’t just their attention. It was the endless luxury. Her three bears made her feel like a queen every single day she promised she was theirs. And for that, they treasured her above all else.
Her closets were filled with designer clothes. Silk and cashmere, leather and lace, everything in colors that would complement her skin tone. But as beautiful as the day wear was, it was the intimate apparel that made her breath catch.
Lingerie in every style imaginable—delicate lace that would barely cover anything, silk that would cling to every curve, leather pieces that spoke to darker fantasies. And in the back, hanging like promises of things to come, were garments she couldn’t quite categorize. Beautiful restraints that looked like jewelry, corsets that were works of art, things that were clearly meant to enhance rather than conceal.
They thought of everything.
Her days were spent doing whatever she pleased. If she showed an interest in a hobby, she’d find herself surrounded by resources within hours. Books, crafts, and obscure ingredients whenever she had a craving to bake something. They indulged her every whim.
And she indulged them much the same. Though their desires were less tangible than hers and more often of the carnal sense.
And on the mornings after those exceptionally long nights, she found herself pampered beyond anything she’d ever known. They had a team of discreet specialists at their disposal, and often spoiled her with spa treatments that redefined her understanding of indulgence.
They instructed the massage therapists to work every knot out of her muscles with oils that smelled like heaven, until her skin glowed like moonlight and she felt like a living goddess. She even had a personal aesthetician to perform a long list of beauty treatments until her skin appeared reborn, transformed into something that belonged on marble statues rather than mortal women.
She had stylists to take care every inch of her grooming. Every hair below her neck had been removed with precision that bordered on artistry. She let the staff buff and polish her until she gleamed like smooth, precious marble. They shaped and painted her nails, lathered her skin in lotions, and basically transformed her into living velvet.
And then there was her very delicate, very thorough nurse, Elena, who saw to the more intimate preparations that often made Marigold’s cheeks flame. Her approach was clinical but professional, and mortifying beyond description. But Elena’s matter-of-fact methods made the process bearable, and afterward, Marigold always felt cleaner and more prepared for whatever intimacies awaited in the darkness ahead.
These rituals, which were once so foreign and strange, now felt like necessities. She shouldn’t become so dependent on luxuries, but whenever she uttered the slightest hint of guilt, the men chastised her in a way that made her remember their corrections every time she sat down the next day.
“We like taking care of you. Leave it at that,” Hunter had growled the last time she worried she was taking advantage of their kindness.
Stone drove home his point by planting another reminder on her bare ass.
“Okay!” She squirmed under the sharp sting. “I won’t complain anymore.”
Ash tsked. “What kind of woman complains about being spoiled anyway?”
“A naughty one.” Stone spanked her ass again.
Suffice it to say, after that night, she never felt guilty about accepting their gifts again. She simply accepted that she was their greatest treasure, and no matter what they gave her, they would always wish they could give a little more.
Ash said she needed to learn her worth.
Hunter said she was priceless.
Stone said she needed to be spanked more.
