Page 39 of Room Seven

“I told you,” he whispers and then moves his lips to my neck.

“Yes, you did.”

We pull apart. Those amber eyes show me he believes this was meant to be.

I can’t find it in me to argue. It’s nice to pretend.

I settle back on my knees. “Let me see.” Fierce longing to encapsulate this moment in my memory won’t go away until I satisfy the urge. I reach for another lamp and flick it on.

Mirsha’s twisted smirk tells me he knows what I want. While Luther and Viper both lose their shirts, my other godfather pulls his belt loose. The crack of leather popping free of the loops are like lashes against my libido.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Fuck.

I shudder at the foot of the bed where I remain, enjoying the show. Pants and shirts out of the way, leaves me a large swath of territory to drink in. The ink, the rippling muscle.

My eyes dip over hard abs and those sexy V’s a man has at their hips. And then I allow myself the most forbidden. My gaze falls another inch.

“Goddamn, you are perfect.” Okay, Jesus. I didn’t mean to say it like that, but every hard inch of their dripping cocks is perfection in the flesh.

Mirsha grunts first appreciative of my bluntness, clearly happy I approve.

Luther and Viper emit low growls of their own. One minute they are my godfathers in compromising positions around me. Next all I see are three gorgeous men holding their engorged cocks and pre-cum glistening on the tips like candy for me to lick.

Angular bodies, rippling muscles and new ink. I don’t know where to let my eyes roam next. Viper’s namesake has some new color to it. The sapphire eyes are a lovely addition and match the shade of mine. I trail my finger over the inked details and follow the intricate scales all the way over his collar bone until my finger reaches the tip of the tail lazily dangling over the curve of his shoulder.

I continue to follow the tattoo. “Oh!” It curves to…I gasp lightly. To caress the underside of my breast. I lean back for a better view.

Oh.Damn, that’s sexy. “Viper?”

“Do you like her?” he asks gruffly and the way his tone dips caresses over my libido in just the right way.

Warmth spills into my veins as I look atmeintricately displayed over his right arm in a flurry of delicate lines and shades of warm skin tones. Roses in every color artfully hide the V of my legs, but my breasts and hard, rosy peaks are on full display.

“She’s beautiful. Me. I’m beautiful,” I stutter and lose the fight to keep the blush from overtaking my cheeks. I haul in another breath. “I am at a loss for words.”

“I couldn’t have you with me physically, so I made other arrangements. We all did, in our own way.”

He tips my chin toward Luther, who turns to show me a beautiful flourish of my name stretching across the expanse of his well-defined back. Swirls of black intertwine with the white flowers of jasmine.

Luther takes Mirsha’s left arm in hand and shows me a set of roman numerals in black ink spanning the space between his elbow and wrist.

I reach out and trace each of the bold numerals.

“My birthday date.” My gaze climbs to find his.

“Show her the other.”

Mirsha holds up his other arms to reveal another date, but I don’t recognize the meaning. “What date is that?”

“The day we walked away, baby girl. The day we had to put our hearts on the ground and bury the love we have for you.”

Mirsha puts his hands around the back of my neck and pulls me in until our foreheads connect. He caresses the pulse point on either side, the languid motions slow and settling. Like he is grounding me to the here and now while his words throw me back to that night.

“Why did you? I offered you everything I had to give, and it wasn’t enough to make you want me.”

His chest expands and collapses several times before he answers and when he does, his words are rough. Like he has sandpaper for vocal cords.

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