"I can't," she cries, her head thrashing. "It’s too much."
"You can. You’re strong enough to let go." I grab her wrists and pass them to my brothers. They pin them over her head and hold them in place. "Give it to me, Demi. Give me the fear. Give me the control."
I pick up the pace, snapping my hips, driving into her with a force that shakes the table. She’s unraveling beneath me, her composure shattering.
"Andre!" she screams, her body bowing upward.
"That’s it," I growl. "Come for me. Blind. Trusting. Mine."
She shatters. I feel her inner muscles spasm, clamping down on my cock like a vice. She screams my name, a raw, broken sound that tears through my chest. I ride out her orgasm, thrusting through the waves, until my own control snaps. I bury my face in her neck and empty myself inside her, groaning as the release floods my system.
I collapse on top of her, my heart pounding against her back as Damon and Marcus stroke her face and hair, praising her. I keep my weight on her, grounding her, keeping her pinned to the table, to the moment, to me and then I reach up and untie the blindfold.
She blinks, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. They’re wet with tears, but the panic is gone. The frantic, hunted look she had on the floor with the dog is gone. She looks up at me, her gaze soft and clear.
"I saw you," she whispers, glancing at the other two before focusing back on me. "Even with the blindfold... I saw you all."
I kiss her forehead, smoothing back her damp hair. "I told you, we’re your eyes when you’re blind. We aren’t going to let you down. We won’t leave you alone in the dark ever again."
She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a soft, lingering kiss. When she lets go she reaches for Damon and Marcus’s hands and holds them. Her eyes crash closed for a moment but when she opens them again they’re full of certainty… in us.
"Okay," she breathes out and then that sassy little smile flashes across her perfect lips. "I trust you. Let’s take this bitch down."
Chapter 11 – Blue (February 13)
Ilean my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the gray blur of the highway give way to the rolling green hills of Napa Valley. Beside me, Gary is vibrating with manic energy, reviewing a clipboard with a red pen like he’s grading exams for the apocalypse.
"Remember, people!" he shouts over the hum of the engine, standing up in the aisle and nearly losing his balance as the bus takes a curve. "Eye contact is minimal. We are furniture. We are helpful ghosts. If Dr. Thorne asks for water, you have it before she finishes the sentence. If she looks at you with disdain, you thank her for the attention!"
A collective murmur of assent ripples through the bus. I just adjust my glasses and keep staring out the window so no one will see my eyes roll at that.
Usually, this kind of environment, trapped in a metal tube with a micromanager and no exit strategy would have my anxiety spiking. I’d be plotting three different ways to break theemergency glass and tuck and roll onto the interstate. But today? Today, I’m calm.
My body feels heavy, but in a good way, a grounded way. I can still feel the phantom weight of Andre on top of me from last night, the echo of his voice in the dark commanding me to let go. After that, Damaon and Marcus took me into the master bathroom to clean me up in the shower and then made a mess of me all over again. For the first time in years the dull ache of being alone in the world is gone.
Blindfolded, with just his warm rough voice in my ear, I had let it all go. All the control I held onto so tightly to survive the pain of the last few years disappeared. When his mouth slid over my own, it was like the key to unlocking it all. All the want and need I’ve been suppressing rushed through me and I was desperate for more, more of all of them. Not just sexually but all they were offering. I took a deep breath and dove head first into accepting all of it. Those three men have filled all the empty spaces inside me and it’s settled me in a way I didn’t even know I needed.
Even blissed out after multiple orgasms, I didn’t sleep much last night. My brain kept going round and round on the plan and the moves or pivots I might need to make for every contingency. A brief flare of guilt hits me at things I haven’t shared with the guys but I shove it to the side. I trust them, I do but… there’s some control that I just can’t give up yet. I’m focused and have no doubts at all that this is the right play.
I check my phone. A single message from an encrypted number waits in the notifications.
Green: Tracker shows you crossing onto the property’s boundary. Comms are live but silent. We’re listening.
I don't reply, just tap the screen twice to acknowledge. I slide the phone back into my pocket, right next to the small earpiece cuff I’ll insert once we’re on site.
The bus slows, turning off the main highway onto a private road paved with smooth, dark asphalt. Iron gates, two stories high and flanked by stone lions, swing open slowly. We wind up a long driveway lined with cypress trees until the estate comes into view. I try not to scoff. It’s not a house, it’s a monument to ego.
Dr. Aris Thorne’s estate is a brutalist nightmare of concrete and glass perched on a hillside overlooking the vineyards. It looks cold, imposing, and impenetrable. Sharp angles jut out like knives, and the floor-to-ceiling windows reflect the overcast sky, turning the whole building into a gray mirror. The front doors aren’t for us peons though, so the bus turns and takes a service road around the side and tucks into an area away from the grandeur of the front.
"Alright, listen up!" Gary barks as the bus hisses to a halt in the service bay. "Badges on. Phones off. Let’s move!"
I file out with the rest of the drones, stepping onto the pristine concrete of the loading dock where security is tight. Two guards with wands check us one by one, matching our faces to the badges Gary distributed yesterday.
I hold my breath as the guard scans my badge.
Beep. Green light.
"You’re clear," he grunts. "Move along."
