Page 59 of Room Six

The throbbing between my legs deepens and every inch of me tries to touch as much of Mirsha as possible.

I turn my face up to his and we stay like that staring into each other’s eyes. The sounds of crickets, low voices and leaves rustling all bury themselves in my memory.

I sense Luther and Viper quietly retreat, leaving me in Mirsha’s care. Do they think I am here for Mirsha only?

I want to go to them, fall into their arms and confess a million tiny sins. But I can’t bring myself to leave Mirsha’s arms.

I lean my head against his shoulder. “I’ve tried to fight my longing for you, and it has left a hole inside me filled with nothing but hurt. I put on a fake smile to mask it for as long as possible. And now it’s taken over my life.” Tears roll down my cheeks as I bury my face in his warmth. “Make the pain go away,” I beg in a choked whisper. “Please don’t push me away.”

He tilts my face with the edge of a finger and I don’t fight his gentle instructions. Claiming lips fall over mine and my tortured words fade. He tastes of bourbon and cigar smoke. Vanilla and spices.

The warm pad of his tongue strokes over my bottom lip, and I follow his silent command instantly. The second I part my lips, his tongue swipes inside, stroking, caressing. Taking.

Masterful, dark and filled with forbidden hunger.

There isn’t a part of my mouth he doesn’t devour. And me his. Our breath mingles and all the while, the burning touch of his hand at my throat holds me captive.

Heat from Luther’s and Viper’s gazes caress over every dip and curve of my body and I feel compelled to go to them.

Mirsha must feel the pull they have on me, because he breaks the kiss and turns me into him. He retraces the path his tongue left behind on my bottom lip and I shudder in his arms. Vivid fantasies of this very moment coming true spill from a vault to tug at my heartstrings.

I arch into him, raising to the tips of my toes. Our eyes connect just before I trail my lips along his jawline. Between us, his shaft grows thicker.

“The others need me,” I whisper.

His entire body tenses. “Not yet,” he begs against my lips. “I’m a selfish motherfucker, Aster.” His hands move to grip my ass and I am hauled up his body in one fluid motion, the hem of my dress easily moving with me. The deep pitch of his voice lowers to a possessive husk. “Give me a little more time. You make me burn for you in ways that aren’t right, but God help me, I can’t stay away. I promised…but I can’t keep my word. Not this time.” The slow way he gently rocks his hips and strokes his pent-up cock against my throbbing clit has me clinging to him and crying out.

I hope to God I don’t hate the answer, but I have to ask, “Promised who?”

“Your father.”

My heart squeezes, but for once, I am not afraid of the outcome. Honestly, I should feel monumentally guilty for the pleasure dripping into my veins for wanting my father’s best friends. But I can’t find it in me to care.

“He knows,” I say and Mirsha only nods.

“He suspected there were feelings, and we didn’t hold back when he asked us point-blank.”

Oh shit. “So you left.”

“It was for the best.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if they planned on staying away forever. But when I go to ask, Mirsha has other ideas that sound better than talking about my father.

“Enough. Give me your mouth again, Aster. I need to drink in the air from your lungs and taste you on my tongue.”

I have no doubt the guilt I fear will find me later and crush me under a suffocating weight. But not right now.

“Whatever you want, godfather. Just make the pain go away.”

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