Her eyes focus on the camera in the corner of the room. It’s like she’s staring straight at me. My fist works my cock in a hurried rhythm, my balls beginning to tighten. The scream that leaves her throat as Carter drives into her will never leave me. It sounds like slight pain, mixed with adoration and pleasure.
He slams into her two more times and groans out, “Such a good fucking girl.”
I watch her face light up with Carter’s praise, and chuckle to myself. Oh, she’s got a praise kink. Good to know. I won’t give her words that make her glow with pleasure. I’ll degrade her, and cause her so much pain, until she figures out what I have–
This is not the place for her.
My brothers are not the men for her.
I grip my cock harder as she gets what she wants. Knox releases her from the restraints, and she immediately reaches for him as he pulls her into his arms. He puts her thigh over his hip, and drives into her pussy again. Carter moves to the other side of them and lathers her back and neck with kisses, while Knox praises her once again. I mute the sound, because I don’t need to hear this shit.
Again, her gaze goes to the camera as I fuck my fist, and it’s as if she’s watching me.
Her lips part as her breathing becomes heavy.
Killer is a goddamn exhibitionist. I stare at her face on the screen as I grip my length harder, imagining what she’d look like as she cries out my name instead of theirs.
I can’t hear the moan that escapes from her full pink lips, but I can see it as my orgasm builds at the base of my spine.
I swear I see her mouth my name, and it tips me over the edge.
Instead of coming inside her like my brothers, I fill my hand with a grunt as I stare at her image.
“Your days are numbered, pretty killer. You may live or you may die, but you’ll no longer be my problem.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
THE HEATHEN
Iopen my eyes, pry myself out of Knox’s hold, and spot Carter passed out on the other side of the bed. I wasn’t restrained, so I’m surprised he allowed it. The urge to reach over and touch him is almost too strong to fight. Yet, I don’t, because he deserves his boundaries. Nobody has ever respected mine, and I won’t do that to him. I want to be his safe place. Maybe it’s the good dick talking, but I think they might both be mine. I don’t hate being tied up like I always thought I did. As much as I’d prefer to touch them, it’s okay. I know I’m not in danger with them. I wish I could say the same for Killian, but I can’t.
Speaking of the actual devil,I think to myself, as I enter the kitchen and find him reading the paper, which causes me to raise an eyebrow in surprise. Do people still read the paper? I thought most people get their news online these days. I’m taken back by the black-rimmed glasses on his face. I’ve never seen any of these men wear them, and I’m instantly annoyed by how hot he looks in them.
Killian looks up from his paper, and his expression changes from normal to pissed off the second he spots me standing in front of him.
“Good morning, Killer,” he says with obvious sarcasm.
I glance at him on my way to the coffee maker.
“Satan,” I say, and he laughs, causing me to stop in my tracks, confused by his genuine laughter. I wasn’t even sure he was capable of an emotion other than anger.
“Cute,” he says, as I grab a coffee mug and pour myself a cup. Turning to the window connecting the kitchen to the living room, I flash him a smile.
He clears his throat and says, “I’m going to help you find your father.”
The mere mention ofhimwashes the smile from my face.
“W-Why?”
He sighs, seemingly annoyed that he has to explain himself, but he does it anyway.
“This all ends with the Prophet, yes?”
I nod in agreement, and he continues.
“We find the Prophet, let you get your revenge, and then you can go. Whatever the cost is to be rid of you, I’m happy to pay.”
He sits at the table, sipping his coffee, while I wish I were as unaffected by his words as he is.
