And I didn’t fight.
Not at all.
I’m wet.
By the time I came to Daniel, my legs were drenched and the trimmed hair I meticulously maintained was mattered with droplets of Diamond brotherhood.
My hands were balled around the tray; my jaw tight and aching. Because no matter my good intentions—they’d won. They’d caused my body to have a reaction, and I was soaking.
The strange ache that Jethro had conjured was back, pulsing deep in my core. The flicker of tongues and gentle tastes frustrated me and I hated,positively hated, that I had to fight my hips from pressing harder against them.
I’d begun the service uptight but now I waswoundtight. Seeking something. Seeking relief.
Daniel pushed his chair back, angling me physically between his spread hips. With a malicious glint in his eyes, he pushed me back with a firm palm between my breasts. “Fuck the stupid rule.”
I gasped as his mouth latched around my clit. The suction of his mouth made my body twist with oversensitivity. He wasn’t playful or respectful like the rest of the men. He knew what he wanted and he took.
Hard.
The ache wound tighter and tighter, clawing its way toward relief.
I squeezed my eyes. I couldn’t look at the men watching. I couldn’t do anything but breathe and get through it. And I definitely couldn’t look up where a small growl came, masked with silence.
It was nothing more than a growl.
But it resonated in my bones with knowledge.
Jethro.
The few seconds that each man had taken seemed much longer in Daniel’s arms. Suddenly, I cried out, jerking hard.
The tip of his tongue probed my entrance, trying to enter me.
No one had done that. They’d behaved with some unspoken rule to taste but not devour.
Fuck the stupid rule.
Daniel’s voice repeated in my head. Had there been guidelines on how I was to be treated?
Everything we’re doing is following a strict set of rules—laid out in utmost simplicity and must be followed.
I recalled what Mr. Hawk had said.
He had rules meant to ruin me but also...protect me?
Daniel tried again, his fingers biting into me painfully.
Then, I was wrenched away.
Torn free of his grip with a slice of his fingernails and dragged to the end of the table. The empty dessert tray went flying, clanging against the floor.
My legs tripped, sending me colliding with a body I’d been so intimate with only hours before.
The crash of the tray cut through the room like a loud cymbal. But no one said a word.
The moment Jethro dragged me to the head of the table opposite Mr. Hawk, he shoved the largest of all parchments into my hands. His eyes were dark, face tight. “Here, read it.”
Breathing fast, trying hard to forget about the sticky saliva between my legs and the sensation of having his brother’s tongue trying to enter me, I took the tattered age-stained scroll.
