18. 18 Tori

It's been two weeks since the boys gave me their heartfelt apologies and promises… and got me actual underwear. It's been a week since we found out that Bren's missing case was dropped. Turns out, Nico hired someone to make the case disappear, so that's one less thing we need to worry about.

Even with that off our shoulders, the guys are still tense, but for different reasons. Still, they've done their best to not get upset with one another, and for the most part, it's been great. I have a day set for each of them, which seems to end in screwing every day.

At this point, it's a miracle I don't have a UTI.

It's amazing my poor vagina hasn't run away screaming, taking a beating every day. Actually, I'm pretty astonished that these boys can make me feel like I haven't had sex in years, leaving me so hungry for them every time. I think I've more than made up for my years of failed attempts with other men.

Apparently, all I needed was the cocks of my three bullies. Ryder's dirty mouth, Blaze's authoritative and demanding ways, and Thorne's possessiveness bring me pleasures I never imagined possible.

Part of me wonders what it'll be like to be fucked by all three of them at the same time. I feel like a pervert every time I think about it, clenching my legs together as my core heats with my imagination.

My hand slips between my thighs, sliding under my panties as I start to play with myself, too embarrassed to ever tell them about my fantasy. I'm certain they'd deny me straight out if I asked, and I don't feel like going through that rejection right now.

I imagine Thorne climbing over me, starting it all. Then Ryder would join, toying with my asshole after he tears my clothes off. Blaze would watch at first before coming over and demanding I suck his cock. His very delicious cock, I might add. I've given head plenty of times, but his dick is the first one I don't mind choking on.

With my eyes closed, I continue to fantasize about essentially being gang-banged. My fingers play with my clit, sliding my middle finger inside of myself while my left hand plays with my breast under my shirt.

My teeth sink into my lip, keeping myself from moaning loudly and being caught. These guys have a sixth sense for when I'm horny, always coming in the very moment they think I'm even remotely heated.

“Good God, woman!” Ryder's voice shatters the image in my mind, forcing my eyes open as I quickly slip my hand out of myself. “No, no. Don't stop on my account. That's fucking sexy.”

His smile is wide, enjoying the show as he approaches, his blue eyes lit with excitement. He stops just shy of the bed, wanting a better view, but determined not to join.

Is it like, a thousand degrees in here now?

My face feels hot as fire as the blood rushes to my cheeks, unable to stop the red tinge from creeping through. I'm mortified, too embarrassed to continue, at least until he speaks again .

“KitKat, I'm going to need you to keep playing with yourself the way you were a minute ago.” The moon over his shoulder sets an ominous glow to his face as he gives me that stupid-ass sexy smirk of his. “If you're good, I'll come join you.”

It’s a challenge that I don't necessarily want to take up, feeling too self-conscious to go back to it. Hard to focus on a fantasy when part of it is staring back at you.

“I don't know what you mean.” I act innocent, batting my lashes at him too rapidly to be natural, fiddling with my hands over the sheets.

“Don't be like that. You don't have to be embarrassed.” His knees perch on the edge of the bed, bending the mattress below his weight as he leans over me. His knuckles graze my cheek lightly, like the kiss of a ghost.

“Who said I'm embarrassed?”

I'm fucking mortified.

“Well, if you're not embarrassed, then keep going, Baby.” He trails his finger over my breast, down my abdomen, and along my hips until he slides it over my underwear, feeling my arousal through the fabric, I’m sure.

“What if I don't want to put on a show for you? What if I want you to put one on for me ?” Now it's my turn to arch a brow at him, thinking he'll back down rather than accept my challenge.

Wrong.

Ryder rises to his feet, confidence oozing from his gaze, that infuriatingly cocky grin plastered across his face. He starts unbuttoning his shirt—slowly, teasingly—like he's doing just what I asked of him—putting on a show.

“Oh, I've got you, Baby. I'll give you a show, but you've got to give me one, too. ”

He doesn't give me any time to respond as he throws his shirt at me, covering my face for a moment. When I pull it off, and regain my vision, he's gone. I blink, wondering if I made the whole thing up, only to find him at the foot of my bed.

“Your turn,” he says, waiting for me to take my shirt off next.

Fair is fair, I guess.

I lift it slowly, so slow—Ryder licks his lips in anticipation, the move so sexy, I almost jump out of bed and onto him instead. Pushing down that wild hunger, I hold my own, tossing my shirt at him.

“Gorgeous,” he growls, his voice thick and dripping with satisfaction, like he’s savoring every syllable. I roll my eyes at him, but I'm loving every word, every look he's giving me. “Now keep going.”

I follow directions, too lost in the moment to care anymore. I revealed my breasts the moment I took my shirt off, as I wore no bra. His eyes blaze with hunger, taking me in as if it's the first time he's seeing me like this, despite it being near the twentieth.

“Now what?” I ask, leaning back on my hands, feeling too confident beneath those smoldering eyes.

“God damn, woman. You sure know how to make me happy.” He hoots in satisfaction, undoing his belt, button and zipper. He slides right out of his pants, leaving him in purple boxer briefs that perfectly outline his erection and nice, bubbly ass. “Show me that pretty pussy of yours.”

My heart pounds so loud, it dulls all my other senses as I slowly slide the white, silk panties off, pausing to contemplate where to toss them before deciding on something better.

With a curl of my finger, I beckon him closer, a slow smile teasing my lips. He takes the hint, a devilish gleam sparking in his eyes as he steps to the edge of the bed. With a surprising amount of confidence, I crawl toward him, rising up on my knees so we’re face to face. My fingers tangle in his golden strands, pulling firmly until our mouths are so close, I can taste the faint sweetness of Twizzlers on his breath.

I let my lips brush his, soft like a butterfly’s wing, and his mouth parts, waiting for me to invade with my tongue. Instead, I seize the moment and shove my underwear between his lips, grinning as surprise flashes across his face.

His eyes widen, his expression shifting so quickly that for a moment, I think he might be angry. But then his gaze locks with mine, and I see it—he's more than pleased. His hands clamp down on my hips, fingers digging into my skin, claiming me with a force that leaves no room for hesitation. The hunger in him is wild now, fiercer than ever, revealing a devil I thought I knew, but clearly underestimated.

Fuck. Did I just bite off more than I can chew?

Ryder’s grip tightens as he pulls me flush against him, his breath hot on my neck. He hovers dangerously close, teasing, while his fingers trace a slow, maddening path up my sides. I can feel the shift in his energy—he’s about to devour me, and every inch of my body is ready for it. My heart’s pounding in sync with his, and I can't tell where my own anticipation ends and his desire begins.

With my panties still in his mouth, he lays me down, lingering over me so that the scent of his cologne sends a mixture of trauma and want vibrating through me. He takes my hand in his, his touch leaving my skin with a burning sensation. For someone who just had sex with him two days ago, I feel as if I'll explode if his pierced dick doesn't violently shove into me soon.

He pulls my hand down toward his hardened shaft, only to have it lay over my own mound. His eyes tell me what his mouth cannot as he holds my gaze and moves my hand over myself. Play with yourself, KitKat.

Oh, God, Ryder. If only you knew what I was imagining earlier.

He doesn't remove his hand until I have a couple of my fingers inside of me. His eyebrows raise—hungry, needy—wanting me to continue what I started; this time, I don't mind. When I start moving my hand on my own, swaying my hips as I play with myself, he releases me, standing tall to better watch me.

He lets out this low, pleasant purr, like a cheetah enjoying itself, ready to pounce at any moment. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I bring my other hand to my breast, massaging it before I take the pebbled nub between my fingers and roll it around. The pleasure builds, more electrifying than before with his eyes on me. His blue irises dance, mesmerized by my movements, my soft moans.

He delves his hands into his boxers, releasing that intimidating cock of his. The silver piercings gleam in the moonlight, bright like his eyes that devour me with such deep want. His hand gently strokes his shaft, touching himself as he continues to watch me do the same.

I've never done anything like this before, and somehow, the act is hotter than having him play with me. Perhaps it's the knowledge of knowing he's being so turned on by just the image of me. Who knows? All I can say is that it turns me way the fuck on.

I'm climbing, swaying my hips harder as my moans get louder, my fingers suddenly feeling like they're not enough. My eyes lock onto his dick, a need so deep, I am sure it shows on my face. Ryder seems to notice, hearing my message loud and clear as he nears me. I know what he wants, and wants to hear me say it, to beg for what I didn't need just a moment ago.

I was fine on my own until you entered the room.

I bite my lip, shoving my fingers inside me deeper, hoping they'll be enough, but they're not. They're never enough when one of these three is around. Blaze, Thorne, and Ryder render even my most useful sex toys useless the moment they enter the room. It's as if my body knows that no toy could ever bring me the pleasure any one of them can.

Ryder climbs on the bed, holding himself over me with his hands planted on either side of my face. He still hasn't spit my underwear out, and somehow, that makes all this hotter. Knowing he can taste how turned on I am, my juices soaked into the fabric now sitting on his tongue.

Just as his forehead grazes my skin, the sound of the door swinging open snaps the tension in the room.

Blaze steps in, his expression dark, eyes burning with something far worse than jealousy. Thorne trails behind him, brow furrowed in concern, but it’s Blaze who breaks the spell first, his voice slicing through the charged atmosphere. “Nico’s calling in his favor,” he says, the weight of the words heavy in the room.

Ryder stiffens against me, his breath slowing as if he just had a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Slowly, he pulls back and stands up in all his naked glory, reluctant to fully let go of this moment as he holds my hand, helping me sit up. He spits my panties from his mouth, muttering, “Shit,” as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes flickering to me with a mix of need and concern.

My mood plummets, adrenaline mixed with a sickening twist of apprehension washing over me, like a high-tide wave crashing against the shore, hard and fast. The mention of Nico’s favor hangs in the air like a storm cloud darkening everything it touches.

Blaze’s gaze meets mine, and for a fleeting moment, I glimpse something deeper behind his irritation—a flicker of concern that makes my stomach knot. “We need to move. Now,” he insists, urgency lacing his tone as he shifts into action, the hungriness that usually envelops us replaced by a tension that thrums with impending danger .

What is it about my life that always seems to spiral into chaos right when things get hopeful? I scramble to my feet, ready to follow, though a part of me longs for the warmth of Ryder’s embrace.

Stop hoping, then maybe you won't be so disappointed.

Ryder releases my hand finger by finger, so unwilling, it's like it's killing him to fully let me go. Hell, it's killing me. I need his touch, need any of them to touch me right now, feeling as if I'll lose my mind any second. This is the scariest moment of my life knowing whatever Nico is going to have us do won't be legal.

I'm nervous, frightened by the mere thought of seeing that man again. His eyes are so cold, they still haunt me. Nightmares of him holding a gun to Thorne's head and pulling the trigger plague me almost nightly, only it isn't always Thorne; sometimes it's Blaze or Ryder. Caring for them so much now has me in a chokehold of worry, scared that I'll lose any one of them.

I'm struggling to get dressed, my hands so shaky, I can't get my foot through the legs of the fresh pair of underwear I grabbed. Steady hands grab my own, inked fingers I could recognize in the dark. Thorne kneels before me, helping me in silence, knowing there are no words that could still the racing of my heart, that could ease this fear brewing inside me.

Once I'm fully dressed, he stands up, towering over me, but not the way he once did. Where he used to intimidate me with his height, he now makes me feel protected, like a giant shield that will keep me safe from the dangers of the world. His dark eyes hold my own, a love so deep in them, it swallows me whole.

“Let's go.” He extends his hand toward me, inviting me to take it, to lean into him at this moment. I do just that, not wasting a second to take the comfort he's offering. He squeezes my hand, instilling some kind of strength in me as we depart my room .

Blaze and Ryder are pacing around the living room. I see them as I descend the stairs, looking like headless chickens. Neither of them are paying attention to the other, treading in different directions as they manage their own emotions.

Blaze holds his chin in thought while Ryder runs his fingers through his hair for the millionth time, mussing it up. Thorne clears his throat, gaining both their attention, freezing them in place as they meet my gaze. Seeing me, it's as if they remember they can't panic, thinking they need to be strong for me, but it should be me who's keeping it together. It's my fault we're in this mess to begin with.

Really, I need to keep my mouth shut this time.

“Ready?” Blaze asks me, his face that cool, nonchalant expression it always holds, but it doesn't reach his eyes right now. I see the crazed look in those black pools, a concern as deep as the ocean taking hold and not letting go.

I nod, unable to speak without giving away the shake that's probably there. My blood is pumping so fast, it makes me dizzy, only held up by Thorne's arm wrapped around my shoulders. He knows; he can see the way my hands are struggling not to shake. I fist them in his shirt, needing to hold something so the others don't see.

I need them all as levelheaded as possible. We're entering the lion's den, and right now, I feel as if we're a bunch of gazelles going in for the slaughter. Blaze needs to be as practical as possible, clever as always. I can't distract him, can't have him thinking about comforting me when he needs to be focused on the situation at hand.

Thorne lets Ryder and Blaze lead the way, but surprisingly, we don't all take the same vehicle. Ryder takes his bike—helmet on, visor down, blending into the dark of the night. Blaze takes the Maserati we rode in when we slept together for the first time, lowering into the car with a look so steeled, I wonder if he can even feel his face anymore.

Meanwhile, Thorne leads me to what almost looks like an armored car—metal so thick, it could withstand a thousand bullets. I swallow, realizing that's probably the point. They're preparing for the worst and making sure I'm safe if things blow up. What I don't understand is why we're not all in this car.

We climb into the tall SUV with tires that look as if they could withstand sharp spikes and keep going without losing any air. The windshield is thick, magnifying everything around us. I'm almost certain it's bulletproof. Thorne climbs in, shutting his door harder than he means to, cringing at the sound. His eyes shoot to mine with worry, cracking just a bit to show the fright he's feeling, not for himself, but for me.

You're priority number one to them, so make sure not to get them killed, Tori.