Page 27 of Taken By the Dark Billionaires

As the priestess delivered more boxes to the table, all of them containing jewelry—ones they had picked out for her not even an hour ago—they added two more gifts to the table.

“These are for you as well,” Maxim said.

She nearly jumped out of her seat when she saw what they presented to her. She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening in shock and her face pale.

They probably should have expected her reaction. She was from a different world than theirs. But in their world, they protected their property, and she was now their most priceless possession.

In two thick transparent plastic bags, in the midst of the boxes containing jewels from all over the world that the priestess had gift-wrapped for her, was a severed hand and a tongue.

No one got to hurt her and live another day.

Chapter Twelve

Sutton could not believe her eyes. She must be dreaming. Having a nightmare.

She took a peek at the thick, transparent bags on the table, where items of what appeared to be priceless jewelry also lay.

Was she really looking at a severed hand still holding a gun? And a tongue?

Heaving and utterly confused, she stood up but leaned against the table for support. Her gaze whipped up to them, shocked, perplexed, and scared.

“I—”

“That's the hand of the man who held the gun to you and hit you with it. We took the very hand he used, Sutton. Suffice to say, he’s no longer alive. No one can dare lay a finger on you but us. No one can hurt you and get away with it. Do you understand? You belong to us now; you’re ours, and we will kill any man who looks at you the wrong way or is stupid enough to touch you,” Ezra said.

What?

Sutton was having such a hard time processing her thoughts that she had to filter through them one at a time. They had chopped off the hand of the man who had hit her on the cheek. They had done that because he had hurt her.

No one in all her life had ever protected her, stood up for her, or done anything likethisfor her before. But this was another level of crazy. She should be calling the police.

Stumped and alarmed, she didn’t know whether to flee or sit back down, so she remained standing instead.

“But—”

“There are no buts, My Lady. You need to accept the degrees we are willing to go to in order to protect you. You need to understand the type of men you belong to now,” Jensen said. “And the tongue. That was a bonus and all Maxim’s doing.”

“I have a sweet tooth, and the bastard ate what was meant to be ours,” Maxim said, suddenly angry again.

She opened her mouth, but no words came to mind. She couldn’t stop looking at them, her gaze growing hazier the darker theirs got.

She was in a dungeon, surrounded by priestesses, standing across from three billionaires who had taken her virginity and then bought her to have their son. They had gifted her with jewels fit for a princess and the hand and tongue of the man who had hit her and eaten the cupcakes she had made for them.

Somehow the word crazy seemed like an insult, yet it was the only way to describe what was happening to her. What had she become when her heart started to beat differently? Her body had started to tremble, heat had built between her legs, and her panties were once again wet.

She raised her eyes to them once more, her lips quivering. They rose to their full heights. Her clit pulsed, and without a bra, her nipples strained the fabric of the dress.

“Leave,” Ezra ordered the chain of priestesses. They scurried out of the dungeon through the stone door immediately.

Transfixed, she watched as they removed their jackets, their ties, and their belts. Her mouth dried when they rolled their sleeves up to reveal their forearms; valleys of veins twirled around them, corded heavily with muscle.

They came toward her. She stood back just a little. Intimidated by their sheer size, their earth-shattering looks, their power, and their virility, she clenched her hands into fists, staggered pants leaving her mouth.

They were going to touch her. And every part of her had gone up in flames. She was at their mercy, unequal to their splendor in every way possible.

“Please,” she said softly, not sure if she was begging them to touch her or begging them to release her because how could she carry on living when they stopped touching her? When they no longer had a need for her?

Ezra cupped her face, then captured her lips with his mouth. She sighed as he kissed her so tenderly that her legs weakened. He handed her over to Jensen, who kissed her with the same reverence, softly and sweetly. Maxim took her next, and she felt as if she were a fragile petal; his touch was so gentle and protective.

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