Page 159 of Pretty Wicked Secrets

He crushes me to him as he fills me, then lets me cling to him in the aftermath until I can breathe again. Until I realize that he’s clinging to me just as hard.

Not just clinging, but kissing me, pressing his lips against my forehead, my temple, my jaw… a slow, deliberate progression until he finally takes my mouth again in a kiss that’s more intimate than anything we’ve shared before.

It leaves me boneless and replete, changed down to my essence… by all three of them.

I don’t want to move and none of the men make me. Not for a long time. When I finally muster the energy to open my eyes, looking over at Dante through my drooping eyelashes, I get a heated, tender smile in return.

“Fucking sexy as all hell, princess. That’s our good girl.”

Ourgood girl.

I smile. Like Logan said, I’m theirs now.

And even though I can’t stay, a part of me will always belong to the Reapers.

45

LOGAN

My morning workoutsalways start at precisely 4:10 a.m., and while I work different muscle groups each day, each routine has a precise sequence that allows me to finish at exactly 5:59 a.m. Having control over my body is important to me, and the order this schedule launches my day with is even more so.

Which makes the fact that I should have been done ten minutes ago and just lost count of my reps again infuriating.

I bite out several quiet curses when I notice the clock. I can’t stop thinking about what happened with Riley last night, and I’ve gone through my entire workout with the distraction of an erection. It’s unacceptable.

My stomach grumbles, reminding me I’m now behind schedule for breakfast, but I ignore it and pick up a heavier kettlebell. My routine is already broken, but the most important thing now is to push myself hard enough to refocus my mind and stop replaying the feel of being buried inside a woman for the first time.

No, not just “a woman.”

Riley.

Now that I’ve had her, I want her again. What I told her is the truth. Sex has never felt necessary to me before. But Riley doesn’t just feel necessary, she feels disturbingly addictive now that I’ve had her and been invited to share her with my brothers.

But addiction is a weakness, and Riley is leaving.

The kettlebell slips out of my hand on the upswing, and I retrieve it with a string of quiet, vicious curses that shame me with my own lack of control.

From the moment Riley walked into our lives, I wanted her gone, but now that it’s set to happen, I’m on edge in a way that I can’t ever remember feeling before, my gut twisting in a distinctly unpleasant way that stirs the monster inside me, making me feel a little bit murderous.

I ruthlessly quell those feelings and work myself to exhaustion, then put the gym back to rights and head upstairs to complete my usual morning routine, determined to keep everything else predictable, even though I’m late with it.

Thoughts of Riley resurface once I’m in the shower, the soft warmth of her body and the breathy sighs as she clung to me making my cock swell with a speed and intensity that almost alarms me. I don’t…dothis. I don’t feel out of control like this. Not ever.

I ignore the insistent throbbing of my shaft and the heat pooling in my spine and pretend I don’t still taste the phantom echo of Riley’s sweetness in my mouth, and by the time I head to the kitchen for breakfast, I’m myself again. Once I finish my oatmeal and toast, I set about making breakfast for the rest of them, and after a bit, the others all make their way into the kitchen.

Maddoc claps me on the shoulder, making a beeline for the coffee and Dante stifles a yawn as he pulls Riley close enough to nuzzle for a moment, jumping into the kind of easy banter he excels at.

Chloe holds herself a bit apart, but mumbles a quiet thank you when I hand her a plate. I look away when she starts to eat. The genuine appreciation on her face as she bites into the omelet I prepared is irritating me for some reason.

They’re leaving. Last night was… not something I have words for, but even though I can’t quite bring myself to regret it, I do know that the way it’s obviously changed things between my brothers and Riley—softened some edges and deepened the ties—is foolish. They’d be smart to keep themselves removed now that we’ve all had her. She’sleaving. Whatever existed last night, whatever it is that’s been growing ever since she came, is basically already over.

The handle of the empty mug I’m holding snaps off, the ceramic biting into my flesh. The four of them all look over.

“Okay there, Logan?” Dante asks with a little furrow in his brow.

“Fine.”

I turn away from them and clean up the pieces, assessing and then ignoring the scratch it gave me once I’ve rinsed off the minor beads of blood… the ones that bring to mind the way Riley’s blood beaded up so beautifully when she asked me to mark her again.

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