Page 91 of Dukes of Peril

Nick says, “Sohecan touch you?”

I swear to God. “Nick.”

He licks his bottom lip. “Go ahead, I’m ready.”

It’s almost an impossible task to be this close to him, to smell him, the soapy scent from his post fight shower. The hint of tequila when he breathes. The warm heat coming off his skin. I force myself not to look at the way his cock swells under the thin fabric of his shorts, or the goosebumps rising off his skin when the needle makes contact. I give him what he wants. The L and B, a stamp of ownership over his most important organ, in handwriting that’s entirely my own. There’s part of me that knows this is deranged, that no normal girl would tie themselves to a man like this—tomenlike this.

But since when have I been normal?

By the time I finish the last loop on the B, Nick’s cock is hard as nails, the head almost pushing out of the elastic of his boxers near his hip. I pull back a bit, the buzz of the gun finally ceasing, and place my palm right over his hardness, the motion full of cool nonchalance.

Nick spits a low, “Fuck,” and bucks into it, but I’m already pulling away.

Sy’s rough, quiet voice rings out. “So you and Nick are definitely fucking tonight.”

When I look up, his hooded eyes are assessing us, taking the bottle of beer the three of them have been passing around in the same circuit the whole tattoo. “Him, too?” he adds, tipping the neck of the bottle toward Remy.

He’s just as hard against my ass as Nick is in front of my face. “Maybe,” I say, feeling Remy grinding his boner into me.

There was a time such a declaration would make that old, familiar bitterness fill Sy’s eyes. Now he just watches us, not even bothering to hide the bulge in his own pants. “You could do it in my bed.”

Nick looks up from his new tattoo to share a glance with Remy, and then me. I let him decide. Nick is the victor, and he was right before. The spoils are his to claim. If he wants me alone tonight, then that’s what I’ll give him.

“You know me.” His dick gives a frighteningly obvious twitch. “I’m always down to put on a show.”

“Porterfield!” Sy suddenly barks, downing the rest of the beer in two gulps as the recruit makes his way over, winded and covered in a cutslut’s dark red boa.

“Yeah, boss?”

Sy pushes the empty bottle into Porterfield’s chest. “You and Ballsack are on closing duty.”

Remy’salways had this way of kissing me. It’s not just his tongue and greedy lips, or the way his hands grab two big handfuls of my ass as he slams me up against the wall. It’s something distinctly spiritual, like he’s gathering me up into his own gravity, consuming me, body and soul.

When I manage to find my vision, his eyes are all I see, piercing right through me as he slips my panties down my thighs. It’s dark upstairs in the main living area. Remy barely got through the door before descending on me like a prowler. Somewhere behind us, I can vaguely hear Sy and Nick, breathing and shifting, the sound of fabric hitting the floor, but all I can really absorb is the brush of Remy’s fingers between my legs, gathering my wetness.

His tongue traces my lips in the same path his fingers take, slow and teasing, the hint of a threat in the way he hovers around my entrance, tongue poised to push through my parted lips.

The second he pushes inside–fingers, tongue–I let out an agonized keen, arching into each penetration, already desperate for more. He pins me there as his free hand reaches for the button on his pants, clawing it open and shoving them down.

It’s always more frantic with Remy since that night on the cliffs, and tonight is no different. He hoists me up and I cling to him instinctually, my legs winding around his hips.

From behind him, Nick snorts. “Everyone’s always acting like I’m spoiled, but look at me, letting him take first dibs, even thoughI’mthe vict–”

I gasp loud and sharp as Remy enters me, his green eyes boring into mine as he sinks to the hilt. I say his name, and he hooks a hand beneath my chin, holding me still as he kisses me, deep and commanding. It’s both better and worse than it used to be with him. Better, because it’s so electric. Worse, because it’s so consuming. My lungs burn with the need to breathe, but the fire between my legs won’t let me, Remy’s cock dragging away only to punch back into me.

It takes me a long time to realize Sy is talking. “...take her into the room. Come on.” Remy’s body stiffens suddenly, and Sy adds, “Chill out. Just get her into the bed.Christ.”

There’s a low, mournful sound, and I’m surprised to find it’s coming from me. The thought of losing the fullness makes my thighs clench around his waist, but Remy has no intention of abandoning me. He just hooks an arm around my back and wrenches me close, carrying me effortlessly toward Sy’s bedroom. Every jostling step he takes pushes his dick a little deeper, and I hang onto his neck and savor it.

That’s when I finally catch sight of Nick and Sy.

Both of them are already stark naked, erections bobbing heavily between their thighs as they follow us. Nick reaches down to fist his when our gazes meet, raising his chin.

“Don’t come until I tell you to,” he says in a spine-chillingly sinister timbre. “Understood?”

Feeling dazed and too horny to think about how annoying that’ll be, I nod, mouthing idly at Remy’s salty neck. “Okay, Nick.”

I’m so fixated on watching their bodies that I don’t even know we’ve arrived until Remy abruptly lowers me onto a soft mattress, following me all the way down.

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