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Chapter 8

8

PRINCE

“ F inn’s sweet,” my brother yawns.

He’s sprawled on the bed like some lazy fucker, cocooning our sleeping flower. Good for him. DSInvestments has had some fantastic investment projects over the past year, and we have put in the necessary hours.

That’s why we officially declared December our vacation month. To head back to the asylum, expand our other business, and claim the guy we have both been obsessing over.

“Yes, he is.” I push myself from the fridge and sit on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island to drink my coffee. I check my phone for messages even though most of the family knows we are MIA for now.

“Nothing?” My brother asks.

“Nope.” I get up, walk over to hand my brother his coffee and kiss Finn’s messy hair. “I’m going out for a run. See you in a bit.”

He says something about how he gets to fuck Finn by himself, but I flip him off. I need to clear my mind and running is the only thing that helps.

Well, sports and sex, that is. But I’ve been getting plenty of the latter. I grin as I open the front door and go up the stairs. And we’ve only just begun.

It’s still early, and the clear, crisp air welcomes me in all its silence. I love the snow, and I love how it makes the entire world feel as if it has been put on pause, covered in icy flakes. People don’t come to these woods anymore, not around a place like this.

I start jogging and head for the gates.

Welcome to Saint James’s Sanctuary for Women —the crooked sign says. What a warm welcome.

Part of me expects those assholes to be in their car waiting for anyone to leave the building, but the streets are deserted.

Too bad. I love a bit of banter. I’ve always been the badass of the two of us, the self-indulgent prick. Being born privileged definitely has its perks, and our family has always given us what we want, including homeschooling through college, which we did entirely online.

After graduation, B and I moved into our family’s business empire. Born from the mining industry back in the 1800s, the DeSantos have multiple businesses. We formed DSInvestments two years ago. Entertainment is our field. And now we own the asylum, which was a gift from Dad after his mom’s family purchased it nearly seventy years ago.

Because Dad was the baby Finn is curious about. Constantino DeSantos. You’ll find plenty of information on his business achievements and net worth if you Google him. You won’t find anything about him being born in an asylum.

Money can make you wipe away the truth.

I run all around town, passing coffee shops and stores. The Christmas market—closed at this hour—looks sad, with glitter shining in the darkness and the shops locked up.

I make my way back to the forest. I pass by the old directors’ house and keep my distance. Don’t want the beeping alarms to alert my two lovers.

I hope B has made some breakfast. Nothing beats my brother’s cooking.

As I get closer to the asylum, the snow begins to fall again.

Heading down the stairs, I’m welcomed by the scent of smoked bacon mixed with toast. Fuck me, I’m in luck today.

“Hmm.” Walking inside, I tug off my shirt and throw it at B, who’s busy with pots and pans. I press him against my chest, but he twists around, scrunching up his nose.

“You stink.”

“That’s never been a problem before.” I pluck my shirt off the ground and peck him on the lips. “Where’s our sleeping beauty?”

“Shower.”

“Isn’t that a coincidence? It was just where I was heading.” Snatching a piece of buttered toast, I make my way out of the kitchen.

When I make my way inside, Finn is standing under the steaming spray. I lean against the door frame and watch his silhouette, enjoying the moment. He is softly humming to himself.

The room fills with citrus and lemongrass, making my mouth water.

My two villainous boys.

Swallowing down the toast, I shrug off the rest of my clothes and enter the walk-in shower. Steam has covered the windows, and my eyes hungrily take in every single inch of slick skin. Finn is looking down, letting the hot streams cascade down his back.

“Good morning, flower.”

He startles at my words and turns around with large eyes. Water drips down his fringe of hair, and I brush it to the side, exposing his gorgeous face and wet, full lips.

“Where were you?” He asks, looking away.

“Why, did you miss me?”

He snorts but blushes.

So sweet.

“I’ve been thinking of your Christmas party,” I continue, leaning over his shoulder to grab the bottle of shower gel. Sandalwood fills our space, intermingling smoothly with citrus and lemongrass. “Since the dress code is business casual, we’ll get some matching suits.”

Finn’s shoulders tighten, and he slowly drags his gaze up to face me. I fucking love the way he needs to tilt up his chin to do so. “Matching suits?”

“Yes?” I bat my lashes. “Moss green to match the Christmas vibe.”

“We’re not—” Finn clears his throat. “I mean, you’re not coming with me to the party, are you?”

“Is that really a question?”

“Uhm…yes?”

“Okay. Let me show you my answer, flower.” I push him down to his knees. His innocence is making me horny as fuck. Finn willingly goes down until he’s facing my cock. Leaning in, he kisses the tip and looks up through his wet lashes.

“You are ours, Finn. Our flower,” I growl. My dick jumps when I feel his hot breath against my flesh. “We found you, claimed you, and protect you.” Fisting a hand full of wet hair, I push him forward, groaning when his mouth freely opens.

My dick slides into his mouth. He smooths his hands up and down my thigh until he reaches the base of my cock and fists it while he sucks me.

“Take it all, flower,” I groan. “Swallow it. You’re mine to choke.”

My head falls back as I rock my hips back and forth, sliding in and out of his mouth. “Fuck, you’re taking me so damn good.”

The further down his mouth my cock slides, the more erratic my breath gets.

I grunt, my cock contracting. “Fuck, I’m coming.” Hot, salty release spills down his throat as I brush a hand through his hair and down his flushed face. I lift him up and we settle into kissing against the tiles. The water’s gone cold, but we’re so heated, it’s refreshing.

“You guys are so hot together.” B stands outside the shower entrance, holding his phone, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He’s wearing a bathrobe that’s opened in the middle, exposing his large, hard cock. “Accidentally overheard your conversation. Moss green it is.” He shows Finn his screen. “These are the suits I want for tonight.” He looks my way. “Jean’s sending the car. We’re expected at two.”

“Where? What?” Finn blinks in surprise.

“Don’t worry your pretty head right now, flower.” I brush a hand over B’s erection and suck in a breath when it bounces in excitement. “See that, Finn? That’s what you do to him. It’s all hard and wet.” I brush my thumb over the slit and collect some of the precum, then slide my finger into Finn’s mouth. He sucks on it without a word. “That’s right. It’s begging to be taken care of.”

Turning off the shower, I usher Finn down onto his knees again and let him crawl to B.

His obedience is such a huge, fucking turn-on.

My brother growls when Finn puts his perfect, soft lips around the crown of his dick and starts working him. “Fuck, sweetheart, so good.”

Snatching B’s phone out of his trembling hand, I go outside the shower and get dressed. It doesn’t take long for my brother’s raspy moans to fill the silence so beautifully.

After giving the surveillance footage a thorough once-over to assure myself it’s just the three of us, I clean up the living area, replace candles, and ensure the music plays another Christmas song. B loves those.

It doesn’t stop me from hearing Finn cry out in ecstasy.

Outside, snow continues to fall down the white sky, blanketing the forest with flakes.

A phone rings. Checking Finn’s screen, I ignore the call. Lea. Fucking bitch won’t control our flower’s life anymore. Only us.

“Who was that?” Finn walks into the living room in an oversized black hoodie and sweatpants. His hair, still wet, is brushed out of his face, showcasing his beautiful face—large, gray eyes with thick lashes, a small nose, and a wide, sweet mouth.

“Confirmation for today’s appointment,” I lie.

“About that.” He hesitates, looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “I appreciate you wanting to come to the party tonight, but I don’t think?—”

I hold up a hand. “No.”

He clasps his mouth shut. “No?”

I shake my head. “Don’t waste your energy on something that won’t change. We’re coming with you. The car will be here in a few hours.”

“C-car?”

“We’re taking you shopping.” Smirking, I turn around to prepare the pancakes. I can feel Finn’s unspoken questions.

“They better serve that fantastic champagne.” B roams inside. “I fucking loved those bubbles.”

“Champagne?” Finn sputters.

I smile. “Let me guess. Never had champagne either?”

He slowly shakes his head, frowning. “Okay,” he drawls carefully. “I am in college on a scholarship. You are mistaken if you think I can afford those things. Besides, I have a suit.”

“One,” B bristles.

“Yes, one.” Finn sighs heavily. “And it will be perfect for tonight’s party. A party for which you are not invited.” He flicks up his gaze to meet mine. Challenging.

“C...” Bran begins.

“C?” Finn asks, his surprised gaze lingering between us. Then he snorts. “ Prince . Sure, I should have known. Not your real name, right? Did he pay you? I should have fucking known—” He doesn’t finish his phrase. Suddenly he runs for the backdoor.

“What the fuck?” I grumble.

Finn is fast, lithe, and agile, but when the inky-black corridor suddenly lights up with Christmas lights, taking him by surprise, he stumbles and crashes to the ground. He turns over his shoulder to where we are approaching fast. “Stay away!” He cries out, then starts crawling toward the backdoor.

“Flower.” I begin.

“No, stay away!” He staggers back onto his feet.

“It’s locked.”

He reaches the door and starts pulling.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” B says. “Why do you look afraid?”

“ Ringo .” Finn looks his way, his back pressed against the wall. “But that’s not your real name, is it?”

My brother sniffs delicately. “You said you liked our names.”

“That was because I thought it was your real name!” Finn shouts. ”Why did you give me a fake name to begin with? Did he ask you to?”

B shrugs. “Because I felt like it.”

“Because you felt like it,” Finn echoes. Disdain drips from his tongue, mingled with something I can’t place. Something that makes my chest clench.

“You were playing me all along. Just like everyone else does.” Finn wipes a hand over his face, and I realize he’s crying. My throat constricts.

“It’s Bran,” my brother blurts. “My name is Bran. Fernando, to be precise, but everyone always calls me Bran.” My brother cocks his head and takes a step toward Finn. “We’re not playing you.”

“Yes, you are.” Finn’s eyes dart my way. “He paid you.”

“Who?” I ask, though I know who he’s talking about. That shithead who nearly ended up in the well. It was fun to see his girlfriend fighting for his life.

“You know who.”

Bran shakes his head and takes another step toward Finn. “You are wrong. You are ours, and he’s a dickhead. One word, flower. One word, and we’ll end him. It’s that simple. Now, why are you really afraid?”

“It’s because he doesn’t like the name Ringo,” I joke. Bran rolls his eyes, and Finn scrunches up his nose.

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Is it the champagne? We can get you something else,” Bran says. He has reached Finn and slowly reaches out to cup his cheek.

“My name is Castor,” I say. “Prince was the nickname of the first guy I killed.”

Finn gasps. “The first guy you?—”

“Don’t worry, flower. He deserved it.” Bran peppers wet kisses onto Finn’s throat.

Finn’s eyes flutter closed, but when they open again, they stare right at me. “Why did you kill that man?” He asks.

Bran’s fingers curl around Finn’s chin, and he tilts his face to better access Finn’s mouth.

“Because I didn’t like him.”

Pulling himself off Bran’s mouth, Finn mutters, “That’s not a reason to kill someone.”

“No?” I take the final steps and reach for Finn’s sweatpants. They easily drop to the floor. “I think it is. If someone creates a problem, we take care of it. Easy as that.”

Finn swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Bran licks the corners of his lips before invading his mouth once more. It’s a perfect, fucking picture.

“Let us spend money on you, baby. You’ll be handsome and happy for the party tonight. Warm and safe. And if there’s a problem, we’ll solve it for you.”

Finn doesn’t answer with words. Moans are the only sounds that escape his mouth. Moans that are smothered by my brother’s lips.

I push my fingers between their kisses and stroke their tongues. A jolt of desire explodes in my stomach. “Wet this for me, sweet boys.” They both take the time to lick and suck at my fingers before they continue ravaging each others’ mouths.

Finn’s ass is tight and hot when I dip a finger in. One quickly becomes two when I deftly scissor him open, purposefully pressing his pleasure button with each stroke.

Finn pulls back for breath, shivering and moaning as he holds on to Bran.

“I can’t believe you are killers,” he mutters. “I can’t believe you live here. Fernando and Castor. I like it.”

I kiss the back of his head as my fingers fuck his ass with easy, effective strokes, preparing him.

“I hope it’s not just our names you like,” Bran growls into Finn’s ear before claiming his mouth again.

Replacing my fingers with my cock, I work myself inside. “Fuck, you feel good,” I say through clenched teeth. I fuck Finn with short, hard thrusts. Their kissing is the sweetest fucking sound in the world.

I was right. It doesn’t take long for my climax to burst through me, and I fill his ass with a growl.

“Ours.” Bran rasps.

Ours ours ours.

Fuck yeah.

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