Page 31 of Room Eighteen: My Pain, Their Pleasure

CHAPTER 12

AIDEN

A few days ago, the day after Cameron brought Jessa to our home, where she belongs, we walked into Misfit Tattoos and told Killian we’re together. He blinked at us for a moment before a huge grin spread across his face and he congratulated us. I don’t even think he noticed the collective sigh of relief we all let out.

He could have been a dick about it, but he wasn’t. I was thankful and felt a little guilty that I thought our friend wouldn’t support us. I just wasn’t sure, but we’ve known him long enough to know better.

Does he tease us about it and tell us not to use company time for fun? Yes. Do we listen to him? Mostly.

I’m thankful as fuck the shop is closed today because it means we only had to wait a few days to get Jessa moved and didn’t have to adjust our schedules to make it happen. We would have. I don’t think Cameron was thinking that far in advance, but if he was then I owe him a bottle of Hammond Whiskey.

We’re taking the last load to the house right now and I can’t even describe how fucking happy I was to watch Jessa turn her keys over and bid goodbye to her apartment completely. The guys are at home, moving her boxes to where they belong and starting to unpack the things they can. That means I’m alone with Jessa.

Again.

My dick is rock hard and the tension mounts between us with every breath. I told myself I wasn’t going to give into it and was going to wait until we could all get together, but that was a lie. I almost laugh at myself because it was never going to happen.

“Pull your pants and panties down and play with your pretty pussy, pet,” there’s an edge of a command in my voice and Jessa’s head snaps over from looking out the window.

She hesitates for a moment, but then the sound of her zipper being pulled down fills the SUV and I palm my dick through my jeans. I give it a squeeze so I don’t come in my pants like a fucking teenager. It was already hard as hell to get any work done today when all I wanted to do was sink into her. I wasn’t alone in that; I could see the hunger on the faces of Cameron and Brooks as well.

If Jessa noticed it, she ignored it. Silly little pet.

Jessa shimmies her jeans down and starts to pet her clit. The scent of her arousal hits me, and I take a deep breath, tasting her on the air makes my dick leak.

I growl, “Are you wet?”

Jessa’s back arches slightly, her pretty tits practically begging for my mouth even though they’re covered. I know the marks I left with my switchblade are there and still healing. Fuck.

This woman can work me up like no other. I’m damn glad she’s going to be in our bed, right where she belongs, from now on. There’s so much more for us to explore. I wonder where I should carve my name on her skin.

“Soaked,” her voice is strained and when she plunges one of her fingers into her pretty cunt, I can hear the sloshing sound of her wetness, proving her words.

“Don’t come,” I grit out through my teeth, keeping my eyes on the road by sheer force of will.

As she fucks herself with her fingers, I reach over and circle her clit. I speed up, wanting her to break my rules, wanting to push her to see if she can handle it. When she grabs my wrist and digs her nails in, I know I’ve succeeded.

I think about the way it felt to sink into her ass last night. It was so fucking tight. I love the way she falls apart for us and becomes a messy, begging whore for her men. She has no idea how beautiful she is when she’s like that.

Brooks had cuffed her hands behind her back, and we moved her body like a rag doll so she was poised over his cock. With a hand gripping the base, he swept the head along her slit. We could all see the strain of her muscles to keep herself poised above him. Every time he went past her entrance and didn’t fill her, her hips twitched as if she wanted to impale herself.

We were holding her too steady for that and she didn’t have enough leverage with her hands behind her back. Fuck. I love it when she’s at our mercy.

She makes the best whimpering sounds. The begging and pleading was music to my fucking ears.

“Please,” she panted. “Fuck me. I’ll give you anything you want.” She looked over her shoulder at me, thinking I was going to be the weak one of the group. “You can bring out your knife again.”

My cock lurched at the thought, but I wasn’t going to be the one to break. She was. She was going to shatter all around us and then we’d pick of every piece of her and glue her back together. It’s our mission in life and one we take very fucking seriously.

I tsked her and arched an eyebrow, my voice a challenge, “As if I need your permission to bring out my knife.”

She shuddered at the reminder that we didn’t need to ask her a damn thing. We were going to take, and she was going to give. But she was only able to do so because of the knowledge that, in the end, we’d pour all of ourselves into her and show her just how much we love her.

Even with every degrading word we threw at her there was love. No one else needs to understand it but us.

Her head slumped forward, and I could feel her resistance, her hope for us giving her what she wanted on her timeframe, slipping away. Just how we wanted her.

I leaned forward and nipped at her earlobe before whispering, “What a good little slut.”

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