Page 26 of Ensnared

Morethan one of them in a day?Howin the world does he imaginethatworking?Though,Imean,Iguess it just had.

Ishift, looking down.Myetiquette lessons didn’t cover this kind of thing, and embarrassment is fast swallowing my brief moment of abandon.

Beaustands behind me.Mycheeks feel hot.Hejust...Hishands were just...

Hebends and presses a firm kiss against my lips.Shockinglychaste, considering what he was just doing to me.Ican taste myself on his mouth.Hepulls back and makes to leave, andIclutch his arm, feeling likeIshould say something—thank him, maybe?Demandan explanation?—but my tongue feels clumsy in my mouth.

Beaumisinterprets. “Ineed to cool off, darlin’.Lucky’llget you sorted.”

Lettingout a slow breath,Inod.Witha final squeeze of my arm, he leaves as well.

Notable to look atLuckydirectly,Istare at his shoulder asIsqueak a request for the bathroom.Witha far-too-cheerful bounce to his step, he shows me the way and tells me to meet him in the kitchen whenI’mdone, giving me brief directionsIprayI’llremember.

Closetingmyself in the bathroom,Iquickly relieve myself and clean up, feeling swollen and tender from my encounter.Myhead is spinning slightly, whether because of the ridiculous drinkLuckygave me or my combustive orgasm,I’mnot sure.

Washingmy hands,Istudy my face in the mirror.Thecheeks that were ghostly pale less than an hour ago are full of color, my blue-gray eyes luminous and glassy, my lips pouty and roughed red.

Irun a finger over the pink mark on my neck, examine the one on my breast—while tryingnotto examine whyIfeel a sneaky sense of pride whenIlook at them.Myhair is a mess around my face, kinked at the back where it rubbed againstBeau’sshoulder as he—

Thetap is still running.

Iturn it off with a curse and take a deep breath, bracing myself on the sink.Ican’t remember the last timeIlooked so...pleasured.HaveIever looked like this before?Whydoes it make me feel just a little bit... pretty?

Afrown crinkles my forehead.Whatiswrongwith me?Yearsof propriety and reserve melted in moments underBeau’stouch.Jasper’slips.Dominic’skingly, heavy gaze.Lucky’sintense, playful heat.Mythighs clench.

IfI’mbrutally honest with myself,Ieven responded toJaykob’srough handling—though that had to be some sort of post-traumatic reaction,I’msure of it.

Imeet my own lust-drunk gaze in the mirror.

“You’rebehaving like a slut,”Iadmonish myself.

Yeah, well, apparently being slutty is really fun, my heavy-lidded reflection purrs.Let’sbe slutty again.Rightnow.

Despitethe glee of my vixen twin in the mirror, my long history of disillusionment warns me not to get too excited.Mysituation isn’t so simple, after all.Thethings they want to do to me, what they expect... it’s overwhelming.

Myreservations cast shadows across my features, dimming some of the rosy glow.

HowcanIpossibly juggle the needs and desires of five men whenIhaven’t ever been able to hold even one man’s attention?

Iswallow, thinking that over.Ican’t.That’sthe simple fact.Iwon’t be able to, even ifIcan bring myself to do all the things they’re asking.Whocould?Thathas to be a superpower reserved for gorgeous sex sirens with mystical ambrosia vaginas and charisma on par withSantaClaus.

Buthow canIleave?

Islept in an actual bed last night.Theyhave real drinks, andI’mabout to eat a proper meal.Madein akitchen.ComfortsIforced myself to forget about for years are now a very real possibility.

Mymind flashes to the ease with which they handled the men who’d hunted me.

Iwouldn’t have to watch over my shoulder constantly, could stop flinching at every broken twig, stop wondering if the animals are just a touch too quiet for safety.

Iwouldn’t have to be lonely anymore.

Athick lump lodges in my throat.It’sso damnniceto have someone to talk to.Dayafter day, that was what threatened to pull me under.Forsomeone who lived most of her life as a loner, it had stunned me how muchIcraved casual conversation.Apassing touch.Allthose little thingsIalways took for granted.ThosethingsIleft behind without a second thought.

Overthe years, as the quiet grew deeper and colder, there were timesIconsidered seeking out one of the packs of armed, careful men that occasionally prowled by.Iwas almost willing to take the chance thattheseones were good and honest, just soIwouldn’t have to deal with that biting, wintery loneliness.IfI’dseen any women among them,Iprobably would have taken the risk.

Iwas sorely tempted by a group of about fiftyIsaw in the city about a year after everything went down—children and men and women all banded together.Theywere casual.Barelyarmed.Ifollowed them for a while, soaking in their affection for each other.Theylaughed.Thekids played in the street as they walked.Menand women flirted.

Butdeep in my heart,Ididn’t believe they would make it.Theystood out too much.Theywere too slow.Toonoisy.

---