“Such a pretty pale canvas.”
The leather hits my nipple and I moan as the pain shoots straight to my core.
“Hey, Riv, you in the mood to share?”
My eyes fly open. “Eli, I can’t,” I pant.
Eli drops the belt and lifts me up. “Shh, yes you can. I’ve got you. Just hold on to me.” He loops my arms around his neck andI slump against his chest, burying my face in the hollow of his shoulder.
“Check the drawer,” Eli mutters.
The drawer slides open and then the snick of a lid flicking open hits my ears. “Remind me to thank Josh again,” River says.
Eli rocks into me and I squirm against him. He runs his hand up and down my back as River’s shadow falls over us.
I clench when his fingers find my rosebud.
Eli tugs the belt on my neck. “Nuh uh, none of that. You’re ours remember? Ours to take, ours to fuck, ours toown.”
I groan into his shoulder as River pushes past my rim, scissoring his fingers. Pain and pleasure twist together like strands of DNA and my eyes roll back in my head. After a while, River’s fingers disappear. He spreads more lube around before replacing his fingers with the tip of his cock.
He takes over holding the belt and tugs my head back against his shoulder as he slams his hips and buries himself inside of me with Eli.
My mouth drops open. I bring my hand up behind me to loop around River’s neck. “So full. So good,” I mumble.
“Good girl, such a good girl for us. We’ve got you.” River murmurs praise in my ear, letting me adjust to their intrusion before the two of them begin to move.
The sensations are too much for my abused body to process and I feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness, unaware of anything accept the pure pleasure they’re overloading my system with.
At some point, Eli’s fingers find their way between my legs and he pinches my clit, hard.
I scream, my body seizing as another climax rips through me.
I don’t remember everything after that, just the vague sense of whispered praise and gentle hands taking care of my body.
I’m exhausted, my body ruined in the best way. Everything hurts but deep down a sense of peace settles into my bones.
The distance, hurt, and anger between the guys and I is utterly and completely shattered. They may have found me days ago, but it finally feels like I have them back.
34
OZ
I’ve done a lot of research on the Dying Angels since Freya and I first visited here. Everything I’ve read says outsiders aren’t welcome so color me surprised when they justinvite us in.
Unlike last time, the guards, dressed in white cotton over thermals and bearing rifles, don’t stop us at the low wooden gate. Instead, the gate is pulled open, and we’re ushered through.
I note the cameras mounted on the guardhouse and share a look with River. We were being watched on our approach to the compound. “What do you reckon the chances are Jeremiah knows we’re here and knows exactly who we are?”
The guard by the car talks into his radio, eyeing us as River rolls past.
“I’d say pretty high.”
We’re directed down a dirt path to the right and River parks up next to a series of identical Jeeps. The cars back up onto a tall barbed wire fence that I’d bet extends around the entire expanse of the compound.
Another guard blocks our way as the five of us get out of the SUV.
“Weapons stay in the vehicle,” he says, using the rifle held across his chest to gesture to the car.Oh, the irony.
