13. CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

Damien

Liam: The lights at her apartment are out.

At fucking last.

I’m already showered and changed into a long-sleeved black T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Shoes and black sneakers with soft soles that’d silence my footsteps on her hardwood floor. No belt or boxers, either.

I’m ready for her. Ready for this.

The three of us there, and her. Our Sleeping Beauty. She’ll wear our cum on her skin. On her full lips. Seeing it play out in my head disrupted my workflow. My concentration suffered.

I hadn’t even called Rome to tell him I didn’t care he kissed her first. I got over it. I couldn’t do anything except think about her.

And the wait is finally over.

I snatch my keys from the desk, typing as I walk to the elevators.

Me: Be there soon.

Rome: Leaving home.

Good. He and I will get to talk once we’re all there.

In her bedroom.

While she sleeps.

The thought assaults me for the hundredth time this evening. I run my fingers through my damp hair and look at myself in the mirror. My blue eyes stare back at me, and the smirk returns.

We could take our plan to the next level. We could drug her.

We should . Once I start kissing her, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop. A taste of her lips would do nothing to soothe the ache in my soul. The incessant craving will take over common sense.

I’ll end up biting her. Licking her. Sucking on her pretty pink lips while I have my cock in my hand.

While I hear the sounds of my two best friends fucking their fists.

Jagger has contacts in the city. He could get us something strong to knock her out for hours.

We could do it.

We won’t.

Messing with her head is okay. So is forcing her to live with us, which is basically kidnapping her. Touching ourselves while she sleeps, that’s not as bad, either.

For some reason, I draw the line at drugging her. She bought melatonin, it should be enough.

After I park in a back alley, I walk over to where Liam and Rome wait for me. Hidden in plain sight, just how Liam likes it.

His scar is a part of the reason why Liam’s preferences are the way they are. The other part is the woman who’s responsible for the scar being there in the first place. He’d studied the narcissistic bitch, tried to understand the mind of a psycho.

There’s no understanding a cold cunt like Aria.

There’s only killing her.

Fuck her. Fuck that.

I’m going for a boner tonight, not a limp dick and an aching heart.

I’m minutes from being with my savior. My pawn.

Our woman.

Quinlan.

Her name fixes my problem. I’m hard. All the blood in my body goes south.

“Dame.” Liam waves me over to him and Rome.

I join them, and the first thing I notice is Liam looks exactly like he did when he left home this morning. Suit pressed. A strand of his hair over his forehead. His expression neutral.

Staying out here for hours is just another day in the office for him.

“Hey.” Rome jerks his chin.

His eyes are near black, almost the color of his T-shirt. Hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.

It occurs to me that I should thank him for kissing her.

I haven’t admitted to myself that I have a soft spot for Quinlan.

The gratefulness and obsession have always been there. Using her has been a part of my plans since the day she was born.

Dirty fantasies came last, when she turned eighteen.

But there are other feelings there.

And Rome helped them up to the surface.

He’s searching my face, his lips pulled tight and his jaw clenched.

“How’s it going, thief?” Jokes are what I do. Emotional crap like thanking him for exposing my emotions, that’s not my thing. “I get it, though. Would’ve done the same. Except she wanted it so much that I had to deny her.”

A huff of a laugh escapes Rome. He’s well aware that I’ll never talk about Quinlan like she’s the one desperate for either of us. She isn’t.

We might be fucking with Quinlan. Truthfully, she’s the one who has us wrapped up around her little finger. We’re the ones desperate for her, as much as we’re driven to get our revenge.

“Couldn’t stop it.” Rome reverts to his serious self. “Her brother acted like a goddamn possessive ass and—”

“He what ?”

Rome tells me everything, and I’m pissed. We were supposed to piss him off. He wasn’t supposed to take it out on her.

And yeah, I get it now. Why Rome turned into a territorial animal around her.

“Fuck.” I roll my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension that’s settled there. Failing. “If I were you, I probably would’ve bent her over in the middle of the street and fucked her right there. All that adrenaline—”

“Only you wouldn’t.” Liam points a finger at me. “You’re not going anywhere near him until we have her.”

“I know,” I growl, impatient. Desperate to go up and see her already.

“Love makes you do crazy things.”

“How do we plan to get in?” No way is he talking about love to me. This isn’t the time. Isn’t the place. Bad enough that it’s in the forefront of my mind. “Did Rome convince her to leave it open while he kissed her?”

“No.” Rome doesn’t laugh. “We did not discuss her chain lock on her door.”

“It’s like you don’t even know me.” Flames flicker inside Liam’s amber eyes.

I do, in fact, know Liam. No lock or safe will get between him and the information he’s after.

Information, or woman.

We’re quiet after that, strolling into Quinlan’s building as if the three of us live there. Go up her elevator as if we’ve been here a thousand times.

Liam bends over, picking Quinlan’s locks while he’s standing over the ( not) welcome doormat.

I glower at the text beneath Liam’s shoes. I’d bet a lot of fucking money that Rex got her that. At first, I’d believed he loved her. Then the accident at the pool happened, and he changed. Wouldn’t let her out of the house. Told her it’s safer inside.

Made it near impossible for me to catch glimpses of her.

I believed he’d been protecting her. It was too late when I realized he hadn’t.

Our investigators said Rex told her it’s for her own good.

Truth is, he didn’t want anyone laying a finger on her. Didn’t want her to see there’s other, less shitty people out there. Didn’t want her doing anything except taking care of her parents.

She wasn’t getting away from under his sick, possessive thumb.

He’d done the same thing to me and my foster siblings. Brainwashed us into thinking this was it for us, being stuck with him until we’re out of the foster care system.

The muted sound of the last lock pulls me out of my nightmares. Liam pushes the door, and we’re inside her apartment.

Quinlan’s unique, intoxicating smell hits me first. My eyes adjust to the dark as we walk past her living room. Past the exposed brick wall, her work desk.

Her apartment is organized, just like it was in the pictures from our investigators. The gray throw blanket is folded neatly on the back of her couch. Not a single glass, mug, or a dish have been left on the coffee table or in the sink.

Rome’s played mind games with her today. Liam and I had before him. Yet somehow, there’s no sign of it in her place.

We have to do better. We will, when, not if, she goes out with Ray on her double date. We’ll shake the foundations of the ground she stands on.

It’s twisted and wrong to be turned on by the idea. It makes me impatient, pushing past Liam and Rome on my way to her room. Our sweet virgin won’t realize what’s hit her until we’re already deep under her skin.

Would you look at her, sleeping peacefully.

The moon beams filtering from the window have bathed her in gentle silver light. A duvet covers her sweet body, her hair spread on the pillow. The melatonin bottle sits on her bedside table, a glass of water next to it.

Darling, I mouth, hovering over her.

I’m here, at the edge of her bed, my face and hers are inches apart. She’s on her back, as quiet as Rome and Liam are as they join us.

I shake my head instead of saying, this won’t do . I peel off the duvet, lowering it to her knees.

Rome’s steps are muted as he positions himself on the other side of Quinlan’s bed. Liam sidles next to him.

Neither of us speaks or does any other thing for a couple of minutes. Long, excruciating minutes while we stare at Quinlan.

She’s fast asleep. Her beautiful body doesn’t stir. Heavy eyelids remain where they are.

I make the first move. Turn my fantasy into reality as I slip my jeans button out of the loop, lower my zipper and push my jeans down my thighs.

The three of us never jerk off before each other, but I can’t hold back. The compulsion is strong. Too strong. I have to relieve this tension building inside me. Need this friction. My sick mind is dead set on debasing Quinlan, and it starts here.

I’m throbbing. Dripping for her. It doesn’t matter that Quinlan’s all innocent in her white tank and cotton panties. It only serves to turn me on more.

Her body makes for a beautiful shell, but my obsession runs far deeper than that. I could jack off to her soul.

With my cock in my hand, I stroke myself while my two best friends watch.

Let them stare. Let them see how much I want her.

They don’t lose their pants at first. Rome leans in, flipping her tank top up over her tits.

He pulls a pocketknife out of his pants, looking at me. I stop pumping, and the fucker grins before hooking his fingers into her waistband.

Snap, and Quinlan’s panties are sliced. In a movement that’s so subtle and unlike Rome, he slips the torn panties from beneath her. Inhales her scent, shoving them into his jacket.

He’ll have to share once we’re home.

Until then…

What a beautiful little plaything she is, letting us use her.

Rome steps back, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. A taunting one, telling me he stripped her for my benefit.

That has to be his depraved way of apologizing to me for kissing her first. For putting his lips on the girl that was mine before she belonged to either of them.

All yours , his dark look tells me.

Liam has his hand in the pocket of his pants. He pulls out his Zippo, flicks the top open. Fire lights up his eyes as he slides them to Quinlan.

He’s not stressed. He’s impatient. Rome has to be too.

They’ll lose it soon.

They’ll join me.

Can’t fucking wait.

I’m running my hand over my cock again. Feel the pulsing veins. The skin stretching. The dampness.

Her eyes are closed. In my head, I order her to keep them open.

Look at me while you’re being my filthy whore, darling. Whenever you’re down there, on your knees, sucking me, you aren’t allowed to close them. Ever.

She’ll be such a good girl. We, unlike Rex, deserve her obedience. We can be cruel and cold. We could use her for our plan. But we made sure her room would be impeccable. That her life with us will be comfortable. Her bank account padded. She’ll never want for anything.

She’ll get used to our brand of crazy.

She’ll love it.

My free hand begs to wrap around Quinlan’s thick, long locks. Like I would if she’d be kneeling for me. She’ll be wet for me, would moan as I fucked her throat.

Her gaze will be locked on mine. On the scars slashed across my abs. If I’ll be reckless enough to lose my shirt before her.

She’ll know. Then and there, she’ll know it was Rex. She’ll see through me. Will realize in a heartbeat how well and truly deranged her smirking stranger is.

She’ll understand this one undeniable truth. No one endures abuse like I have and comes out unscathed. In his body. In his mind.

She’ll see, and I’ll let her.

In due time.

Fuck, I want her. I rub faster. Squeeze myself harder. More precum dampens my thumb at the thought of choking her. Of punishing her for all the years I couldn’t have her.

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss, placing a hand on the pillow beside Quinlan’s head.

My friends take themselves out. I’m beyond noticing it.

It’s only her lips. Only those pouty, pink pillows and Quinlan’s soft breaths.

One, long and fucking agonizing second passes when my mouth is above hers. Another torturous one follows when I settle my mouth on hers. It’s there, barely pressed to hers.

Sweet. Painfully sweet. And perfect. I feel like I could be here, like this, throughout the whole night. For the rest of my life. Inhaling her scent, our lips touching.

Until the inevitable happens.

Out of all the things I’ve dreamed of doing to Quinlan, being gentle has never been one.

The agony of not doing more than pressing my lips to hers hurts. I’m struggling. I do it anyway. Pump my fist faster while the rest of my body is frozen by the strength of my muscles. By sheer will.

We have so much planned for her. We won’t wake her up. Won’t snatch her in the middle of the night.

The plan.

The fun part of watching the fear on her face when she realizes she has no choice. When she understands that this is it; she’s coming to live with us.

Kinky and wrong, that’s what it is. Looking forward to having her cornered and at our mercy. Willing to do anything for us. It’s cruel, even for me.

I. Need. That.

Rome’s hushed growl reminds me that I’m not alone. That I had my kiss and Liam hasn’t. I can still hear them fucking their hands. Skin on skin. Labored breaths.

Liam won’t come before he kisses her. I won’t allow it.

Except that when I rise, leaning on one hand, I’m disappointed. Quinlan’s lips don’t glisten. She doesn’t have a piece of me on her. I can do better.

“I’m not done with you,” I whisper, collecting saliva in my mouth and spitting.

There it is. My mark on her lips. It’s not cum, not yet. Close enough, though. My twisted brand of lip gloss is nearly perfect.

I grit my teeth, cursing under my breath. My cock jumps in my hand when I swipe my saliva on Quinlan’s lips with my tongue. I’m being gentle, contrary to every instinct in my body.

This claim on her, it’s fucking intoxicating.

And I’m done being selfish. I move to the side, hand her over to my two friends. They don’t move in right away, and I get high on looking at them there. Jerking off, their eyes hungry as they stare at Quinlan.

They’re hot for her. For our woman.

For years, I haven’t felt this whole as I do now.

Liam moves first. He angles his body until he’s towering over her. He doesn’t have his cock in his hand anymore. His Zippo is in his free hand, the one he’s not leaning on.

He flicks it open, casting a warm glow on Quinlan’s beautiful face. Casting ember light on the tattoo on her cheek.

After we break her, we’ll fix this part of her. We’ll heal all her broken pieces.

Including the ones we smashed.

This is the closest Liam’s face has been to a flame ever since the day he got his scar. Normally, he holds it at a distance.

That’s her. All her. She’s asleep and she’s already changing him. Turning him even braver than before.

He recognizes it, too. A faint smile crosses his lips. He brushes his mouth to hers, offers her a soft kiss. He hardly ever touches her.

When he straightens, I see it. His heated expression tells a million stories. Creases cross his smooth forehead. Eyebrows low.

He’s affected, regardless of how tender he’s been with her. Maybe because of it. The stolen moment. That first forbidden taste.

She has the power to drive any man or woman insane.

Too bad for everyone else who’ll never get to have her. She belongs to us. Her consent isn’t necessary for it to be true. She’s been our most precious acquisition since we started BLF Capital.

We’re not turning her over for profit. For any fucking thing.

He pockets his Zippo into his jacket pocket, and he’s back to joining Rome and me in beating off to her. Nothing else. It’s as if the feel of Quinlan’s mouth is the only thing he’s ever dared to wish for.

Only he hasn’t, has he?

Neither of us has. Minutes pass, and then—

“Oh, fuck,” Liam hisses, his voice barely audible.

He’s going to come on her. I have to see that. And I do, catching the moment his hips jerk forward and white cum shoots from his cock. It lands on Quinlan’s nipple, on the top of one of her breasts. That’s his mark on her.

Fuck, that’s hot.

Her chest heaves, her breaths laden. She’s sleeping. She’s also wet, I realize, when I tug her leg to me. Just a little. Just to see what I need. Her inner thighs are as damp as her lips, as her untouched cunt.

Her subconscious is tuned in to our presence. She’s wet and needy for it. For us.

Movement in the room tears my attention from her pussy. It’s Liam, tucking himself in. He shifts to give Rome the space next to her face.

Rome bends at the waist for a quick kiss to her lips, then he’s up again. Bites his bottom lip while his hand moves faster on his cock.

“Sweetheart,” Rome grits behind clenched teeth. It costs him—whispering instead of fucking her. It’s obvious because he’s coming in the next second.

He aims his dick to Quinlan’s bare stomach, releasing his orgasm on the slope of her belly. His climax fills up her navel, yet he’s far from being finished with her. He gathers his orgasm on his finger, painting Quinlan’s lips.

The depravity of it all pushes me that much closer to the edge.

Closer to losing my mind.

Not yet.

I’ll have to settle for coming.

“Fuck.” When I’m there, when I shoot my orgasm onto her. I mark her unclaimed tit. My seed coats her swollen breast. Her peaked nipple.

Yes. That’s it.

I’m spent. Spent, and still deviant as fuck.

She hasn’t come yet.

I arrange myself, ready to join my friends. As if we’ve been doing this for years, Liam and Rome have their hands all over her.

Liam rests his open palm over one of her breasts, brushing it in circular motions. Her moans are low and hot in the small room that smells of sex. Of us.

Rome cradles one of her cheeks. Shoves his thumb between her parted lips.

Only when I’m sure neither of the two have disrupted Quinlan’s sleep do I go for it. I suck on my fingers, wetting them. Quinlan’s pussy lips are swollen. Her clit hardens beneath my fingers.

Her thighs clench and I fucking love it. She’s mine. Of course I’d know how to touch her. How to rub her. How to bring her to an orgasm.

She finishes in a matter of seconds. Her body spasms, eyes pinching. I’m not sure where I want to look, and so do Liam and Rome. Our gazes rake over every inch of Quinlan. We keep pleasuring her until the last of her shivers dies out.

Calm and sated. That’s what she is. Sleeping better, thanks to us.

I trail my fingers on the inside of her thighs, sucking on them. Liam and Rome do the same, their eyes closing with how fucking good she tastes.

Without a word, Rome rights Quinlan’s top on her body. I tuck her in.

Nothing to do about the panties.

Can’t say I’m sorry about that. About leaving her naked from the waist down.

Walking away, though. That hurts like a mother. A self-inflicted punishment I plan on rectifying this week and every day after this one.

We’re coming for her.

She won’t know what hit her, our future captive.