Chapter 9

9

FINN

“ T he car’s here.” Ringo—or Bran—calls out, bringing me out of my revelry. I’m standing inside the room they dedicated to me, with photographs of me hanging on the wall.

I never knew I was being watched. Never knew that someone noticed me.

Bran peers inside the room. His dark stare softens. “There you are.”

“Yeah.” I hesitate, licking my lips. “Bran, how did you see me that first time?”

“Damn, flower, I love it when you call me by my name.” He takes a few steps inside the room. “What do you mean, how ?” He points at a photo of me, sitting in a black fleece, a woolen hat, and a scarf wrapped around my neck. A drawing book and pencils in hand.

“I remember that day,” I murmur.

“That’s when we saw you. We came to visit the property for the first time and then found you. You were quite the surprise.”

I nod. “Yes. I just moved into my room.”

“Exactly. After that day, you came here often, drawing and just sitting on that stone. And we’d watch you. We became quite fond of you. And the rest is history.” He turns and gives me a seductive smile. “Now, let’s go. They’re waiting for us.”

“Who are they, exactly?” I ask, but of course, he doesn’t reply.

We leave the asylum through another set of stairs, and when we reach the snowy forest ground, I turn around, dazed. I would never have suspected this to be a way out. They must have extended the building somewhere last year, although I never noticed.

I guess it’s true: money buys everything.

The car looks ridiculously expensive—black, sleek, and large . When we settle into the back, I notice the driver. Dressed in a dark suit and hat, he could have walked straight out of a Hemingway story.

“Finn, this is Jim. He’s been our driver since we were kids. Jim, this is Finn. He’s with us now.”

“Hello,” I mumble and give the man a faint wave. Our eyes meet through the rearview mirror, and he dips his chin in a formal greeting.

“How long is the ride from here?” Castor asks.

“About an hour,” Jim says in a surprisingly high, trembling voice. “Jean insisted I’d pack you refreshments. They’re in the fridge.”

“Fridge?” I ask.

Bran pats onto a slick, metal box tucked away in the corner. “Right here. Need anything, flower? We’ve got sodas and sandwiches.”

“After all the food you made me eat earlier?” I rub my stomach. “No, thank you.”

As the car leaves, we settle into a silence that invites my mind to create stress. Everything about this party worries me: seeing the others after last night, Seeing David .

I’d never admit it to anyone, but I’m terrified of him.

Afraid of not knowing what he’ll do next. Afraid of when he’ll strike again.

My head lols to the side, and a strong arm grabs my shoulder and squeezes me close. My eyes start to drift. I hear the twins softly speaking to each other.

“I’m still fucking pissed that the hero can’t just get a bullet between his eyes,” Castor grumbles.

Bran chuckles softly. “Let them do their thing. We invest in their project because they know how to release a beast of a film. By the way, I’ve got something else for us. Fresh from the press. Something far more interesting.”

There’s a pause filled with the rustle of papers. It’s a relaxing sound, and I sigh, satisfied.

“Nice.” Castor whistles. “Cause of death?”

“Starvation. It took the victim two months to die. His family wants us to take out the killer, whether the police catch him or not.”

“Sounds perfect. Did Jean discuss our terms and conditions?”

“She did. We’ll start in the new year. The family wants to give the police some working space before we follow their tracks.”

My eyes flutter at those words, my heart thumping loudly.

“Sshh. Sleep.” Soft lips press a kiss onto my shoulder before moving up. Then I hear the twins making out, their wet mouths brushing as Bran moans. There are soft chuckles, followed by more words.

I must have drifted off because the next thing I hear is Jim announcing we have arrived. We get out of the car, and I immediately see that we’re no longer in upstate New York but in busy Manhattan. I wonder how long I was out.

Thatcher and Son is as exclusive as I feared. The owner is already waiting for us when we reach the door. “It’s good to see you again, gentlemen.” He ushers us inside.

The story is empty of other customers. A table with bottles of champagne and snacks has been set up, surrounded by leather couches. Soft music plays in the background.

“I have had the three suits tailored to your specifications and in a fitting area. Is there anything special you need or?—”

“Yes.” Castor drawls, clasping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We need you to leave us while we dress our man. You can send the invoice directly to the company.”

“Certainly.” The owner smiles and disappears.

“Well.” Bran lifts my hand and brushes a kiss on my knuckles. “Shall we begin?”

Everywhere around me, there are rows of shiny clothes. Expensive clothes.

“Don’t look at the price,” Castor mutters in my ear. “Look at what you love.”

“What about this?” Bran pulls out a gray, chiffon crop top and slim, black pants.

“Uhm, I’m not sure,” I mutter. “I usually wear casual clothes.” I point at the hoodie and sweats I’m wearing.

“Like this.” Castor shows me a shiny pair of track pants and a priceless woolen jumper.

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Okay, let us do our magic while you fill yourself a glass. You’ll see that this is a lot of fun.”

The fitting room piles up as we drink champagne.

We try on our suits for the party. They are a perfect fit, but holy shit, I can’t help but notice the price.

“This is a ten thousand dollar suit. I’m not taking this.”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” Castor clips. “Now, be a good boy and show us all the clothes we’ve picked for you. I’ll go and find some sexy as fuck lace for you to wear.”

I head back into the fitting room. It’s no use to argue. When I make my way out, wearing the crop top and pants Bran selected, the twins share a leather couch, feet perched on the table, and a glass of champagne in hand.

Waiting for me.

“Fuck, sweetheart, look at yourself.” Bran jumps up and meets me halfway. He directs me toward the mirror. “You look fucking delicious.” He leans in and brushes his lips over my cheek.

The clothes look great on me. “But what if—” Our eyes meet through the mirror. I clear my throat.

He quirks an eyebrow. “What if…what?”

“What if I’m not who you thought I’d be?” My eyes flick to meet Bran’s. “You are—” I lick my lips as my skin grows hot. “Handsome. Rich. Powerful.”

“Please continue, flower,” Castor calls out, smirking when he takes a slow drink. “My ego enjoys it.”

Bran pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t see the problem, flower. You have no money, and we drown in it. You are ours, and we want to look good tonight. Why the sad face?” He gives me a slow once-over. “You should be happy. You look amazing. You feel amazing, too, right? We’re fucking you good, right?”

I blush and try to push him away from me, but he won’t budge.

“You are fucking perfect. Sexy, sweet.” He sniffs my hair as if he’s a dog.

“Stop it,” I chuckle. “That’s weird.”

Grabbing me tighter, he parts his lips, taking some of my hair in his mouth as I giggle.

“You even smell like ours.” He maunders with his mouth full, smiling.

When he lets go, I turn away, pretending to ignore his words as I quickly make my way back to the fitting room. But secretly, I love it. I have always wanted to belong to someone.

I change into the shiny pants Castor chose and pull the woolen sweater over my head. This time, when I leave the stall, I throw another cautious glance at my reflection.

“You look fucking edible.” Castor spreads his thighs. His charcoal eyes are zoomed in on me as he crooks his finger. “Come here and give me a taste.”

I chuckle nervously while my dick fills in anticipation. The moment I’m in his reach, his hands are all over my ass, squeezing as he nuzzles my crotch. He inhales deeply, humming against my erection.

“I want you to fuck me, flower,” Bran rasps in my ear. He’s shifted behind me, his chest pressing against my back. His hands slide over my stomach, up to my chest.

I shiver. “I’ve never fucked someone.”

“I know. Castor will prep me, then all you have to do is sit down and sip your champagne while I ride you.”

“Oh, well—” My cheeks burn at the thought.

“His dick likes the idea, B,” Castor breathes in my arousal, his nose still plastered against the new garments.

“Fuck, yessss.” Bran drops a kiss onto my neck, then moves away.

“Come and sit down here flower.” Castor pats the space next to him, and I plop down. Bran, who’s still standing, facing me, lets out a string of swear words when Castor goes down to his knees, taking Bran’s pants with him. “Now, let’s eat this gorgeous ass. Spread your legs for me, brother.”

I stare up and into Bran’s darkened gaze. When Castor wraps his hand around Bran’s cock, his mouth falls open, and he lets out a dirty moan.

This is fucking crazy. I’m watching brothers like it’s a normal thing.

“God, I love how well you treat me,” Bran murmurs, breath coming out ragged.

My dick feels hard and heavy in my pants, and I roll the new sweats down my thighs, exposing my naked erection.

“That’s it, flower.” Bran encourages me when my hand slowly wraps around my leaking tip. The feeling is exquisite. “You can pleasure yourself, but you don’t get to come. Not yet.”

I nod stupidly because I would do anything for these guys.

Castor’s hand cups Bran’s balls, and he hums while wriggling his head against his brother’s crease, inhaling loudly. I hear the hunger as he devours Bran.

Slowly, Castor pulls back with a wet smile that looks mouthwatering. “You’re ready, B.” He lifts to his full height and leans in to kiss his brother, but this quickly turns into a battle for dominance. Bran growls when Castor finally pulls back, but Castor just grins and then pushes him closer to me. “Ride our flower, brother.”

I watch Bran’s hard veiny cock as he settles on my thighs.

“Are you ready for me, baby?”

When I give him a shaky nod, he grins. Using his hands to guide my hard length to his dripping entrance, I shudder.

“Push now, flower. Push your cock inside me. I want you to.”

I push but I’m met with resistance and I’m afraid to hurt him.

“Push harder,” He growls, then tilts back his head. “Yesss, that’s it. That’s a good boy.”

I groan when my cock goes past that ring of resistance and gets sucked into his warmth, his muscles unclenching around my flesh, ushering me deeper inside his hole.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” I gasp. “So tight.”

Bran laces his hands behind my head and tilts my face so I have to look up at him. “Feels good, doesn’t it? To fuck a hot ass? Now, hold on tight, flower, because you’re going to have the ride of your life.”

He starts to move, his hips rocking back and forth as he sets the pace. An excruciatingly slow pace that has me clenching my jaw in frustration.

My hands drop onto his thighs. I start to unravel, piece by piece, and I moan in desperation, unable to stop it.

Bran’s eyes shine knowingly. “Want me to make you come?”

I nod fiercely.

“Then grab my cock and stroke it.”

His lips curl into a lazy smirk when I do what he says. “And say please.”

“Please.” I’m too far gone to hesitate.

“So good.” His thumb brushes my lips and I moan. Every inch of my skin is on fire.

“Come here, brother.” Bran opens his mouth and my eyes widen when I see Castor feeding his brother with his cock. Bran rolls his hips faster and hums around the dick stretching his lips. I stroke him fast, urgently. I feel my climax starting to burn, and I’m running out of time.

And then the orgasm shatters me, wave after wave of pleasure trembling my core. I watch how Castor comes with a grunt, his grip tight on Bran’s head, making his brother swallow his release. My hand keeps on working Bran’s perfect, leaking cock. His hips stutter and his gaze turns glassy. And then he comes, coating my hand with his release.

He looks like perfection. Blond hair slick with sweat, dark eyes blazing with fire, full lips agape and curled up in a feral smile.

Castor wraps his arms around Bran and squeezes him tight, ushering soft words against his head.

And at this moment, they look serene.

It’s complete madness. But I’m falling for these guys so fast.

I watch as my soft cock slides out of Bran.

“That was...” I shake my head. Not sure if I can find the right words to describe how I feel right now.

Bran places a finger on my lips. “Ssh. Say nothing. Your body gave me all the answers I need to know.” He watches me put my cock back into the sweats. “I hope there will be dancing tonight. Please tell me there will be dancing tonight?”

“Uhm—” I follow him up and back to the fitting room. “I’m not sure. I usually don’t dance.”

“You will from now on.”

Castor rolls his eyes. “Well, regardless, we’ll need to head out in a minute. We don’t want to be late for our first college party.”

“It’s nothing official, just a show of power by some sponsors,” I say. They don’t reply. Of course. They already knew that.