I glance around. Max and Ryker are both standing in silence, but it’s a tight silence. Fists clenched. We’re all on the edge of something brutal and ugly and fucking beautiful.
Dante finally moves.
“Fill the bathtub,” he says to Max.
Maxnods and bolts.
We don’t have running water, so that means buckets from the well. Ryker follows without needing to be told.
I stay.
Dante looks down at her. “You okay, Aspen?”
She doesn’t open her eyes. Just lies there, tits moving up and down.
“I lost control,” he murmurs.
She cracks one eye open and smirks. “I don’t care.” Then pulls him down and kisses him like he didn’t just break her.
Dante pulls back and looks at me.
He knows I’m watching.
“Are you okay, man?” I snort and slap his back hard enough to leave a mark. “You look like you just ran through hell barefoot.”
“Yeah… fuck,” he mutters. His eyes drift to her again, and I see it, the pride and possession.
She sits up as he stands, messy, flushed, glowing, and that proud little smirk is back on her lips.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Dante mutters.
She bites her bottom lip.
“Oh, fuck no,” I mutter, grabbing Dante by the back of the neck and shoving him toward the door. “Keep teasing him, pet, and you won’t be walking tomorrow.”
She grins.
Little brat.
We leave her in the room, and Max calls from the back. “Her bath is ready.”
Dante grabs his jeans off the couch.
“Sorry, man. I lost it. I had to have her.”
I look at him.
“Sorry for what?” I snort. “For fucking our girl so hard she forgot her name?”
He laughs.
But the truth is my cock hurts. I was inside her for barely a few minutes, just enough to tease her, and now I’m sitting here, hard as stone, blood pounding through me like I just ran a mile with a loaded pack.
She’s still too wrecked for another round, I know that, but my body doesn’t give a shit.
I drop onto the couch and rub my face, trying to pull back the instinct to storm back in there and take her again.
It’s almost dark.
