With each stroke out, I twist my wrist, creating a swirling motion with my fingers before slamming back in.
When I see her mouth fall open and silent screams fight to get out, I change the pace, increasing my pumps with each clench of her walls, hooking my fingers to hit her g-spot. I pound faster and faster. Wyatt pinches her nipples harder, groaning against her clit until she detonates.
“Holy fuck! Yes! Yes! Yesss,” she screams, her body flush as she rides the high of her orgasm, clenching with each shiver.
A slow smile curls up her lips as her body finally relaxes for the first time in days.
“Clean our girl up while I prepare her bath,” I say, heading for the tub to let out the now cold water and refill it with warm water and oils.
I lift my head to see Wyatt lick the juices from her pussy down to the crack of her delectable ass and bite it. Basking in each jolt of her body, the aftershocks course through her. She releases a hum of satisfied glee, her eyes glazed over—euphoria set.
“The water’s ready. Bring her over.”
Wyatt groans his protest at having to stop feasting, but he stands and lifts her from the counter, grinning a smile a mile wild and not bothering to wipe the remnants of her climax from his face.
“It’s a badge of honor. I wouldn’t wash my face again if I thought I could get away with it,” he states, reading my thoughts.
“That and we’d have to kill anyone who smelled her on you. No one but us will ever get to experience her pleasure,” I growl. The thought of anyone touching her makes me reflexively reach for the blade at my hip.
“Never,” he affirms.
“Hey shitheads, I'm glowing, not deaf,” Ariah says drunkenly.
Wyatt and I chuckle as he lowers her into the water, and I turn on the jets.
The sigh of relief she moans out when Wyatt begins to massage the shampoo into her scalp and I lift her leg to knead the muscle of her calf makes me harden, but I ignore it. Instead, I kiss my way down to her ankle before working my hands down to her feet.
“Shit, you two are dangerous together. Orgasms and massages. I may never leave,” she groans.
Wyatt speaks before I can. “Oh, Love. We’ve tasted you. There isn’t a place on Earth you could go that we couldn’t find you. We have your scent embedded in our blood. Remember what I said on the first day of school? You’reours.” Wyatt’s decree is more permanent than our oath to the Fraternitas.
There’s absolutely no escaping us now.
44
ARIAH
I’ve visited Thomas every day for the last two weeks. Today is no different. Erik, my substitute driver, arrives at the hospital, pulling into a parking space.
“Miss Bishop, I’m ready whenever you are,” he states from the driver’s seat.
He’s a twenty-something-year-old with dirty-blond hair that looks like he takes hours to style and Caspian-blue eyes. He reminds me of a Ken doll, so perfectly put together. He’s nice, but he’s not Thomas.
“Let’s head inside. Is transport ready?” I ask before he can open his door.
Thomas is supposed to be released today. I’ve arranged for medical transport, in-home aids, and a physical therapist to help with his recovery. I want him healthy and fully recovered.
Nodding, he confirms, “Yes, they’ll arrive in twenty minutes,” while stepping out of the car.
By the time we reach Thomas’s room, he’s already filling out his discharge paperwork. He lifts his head when I step across the threshold, and a warm smile crests his face, having returned to its stunning terra cotta hue.
“Miss Bishop, shouldn’t you be at school?” he remarks, addressing me formally, but we’re past formalities. The man took a bullet for me.
Returning his smile with my own, I reply, “I feel like you should call me Ariah or Ry. You’re family. There’s no need to call me by my last name, and I’ll be heading to school once I know you’re safely on your way home.”
His bulky shoulders shake with amusement before his laughter turns to coughs.
Rushing over, I grab the pitcher of water and fill his cup, handing it to him to drink.
