“Careful, love. You and I both know that our guy here isn’t playing,” I say, and a needy murmur escapes Roman’s lips, sending a wave of electrical heat straight to my erect dick. He’s not usually the needy type, yet I won’t deny how delicious it is to watch his carefully guarded composure fracture right before my eyes.
With their eyes on me, I take my time peeling off my jeans and hoodie, laying myself bare for them. I press my Jason mask firmly against my face, keeping it secure as I fling my clothes carelessly aside.
I stalk toward Bailey and Colton, kneeling obediently before Roman, but it’s Bailey I reach for. My fingers curl beneath her chin, and I tilt her head back, forcing her gaze to lock with mine. I drink in the sight of her tear-glossed irises and the paint smeared across her face, a true masterpiece of saliva and arousal that only makes her seem all the easier to break. She swallows hard before licking her utterly fucked lips, and I follow the movement, ravenous and unblinking. My eyes snap back to hers, searching for a hint of hesitation. But our girl has never been one to back down from anything. And when the faintest smile tugs at herlips, that seals it. Bailey knows exactly what’s coming, and so do I.
I love how fucking in sync this woman is with us. Besides Roman and Colton, no one has understood me like Bailey does in this moment.
She reaches out, and I scoop her into my arms, her body fitting against mine like she was made to be there. The soft brush of her pink, tangled hair against my cheek has me breathing her in, inhaling that unmistakable sweet, floral scent that is uniquely hers.
She smells like sweet corruption, and I’m the foolish bastard who’ll willingly drown in it.
I stride to the center of the room, and I can feel the weight of the guys’ confused stares searing into my bare ass. If they want a taste, they'd better fucking keep up because no one, not even The Order, would be enough to stand in my way now.
I set her down gently on the hardwood, her booted feet meeting the floor with a soft thud, and I watch as she looks around before reaching for one of the chains dangling from the beams that frame the ceiling. She gives it a firm tug, probably testing its strength, and a slow smile curves behind my mask.
My woman.
She gives me the slightest nod, and my chest does somersaults because it’s like she knows me. Yes, I’m wearing a disguise, yet she remains completely oblivious to the man lurking beneath it.
Though I am still Jace.
I was onceherJace.
Who am I kidding? I still am.
And that familiarity, that unspoken understanding between us, still exists. It only makes it clear as fucking day that this cannot be the last time that we get to have her, because I don’t think I can walk away from her a second time.
“Wanna drive our guys crazy, baby girl?” I ask, and her head shifts to Roman and Cole, standing side-by-side across the room, waiting for my orders like the good fucking boys that they are.
“Yes. I want you to fuck me. I want you all to fuck me. Hard and rough, and I want you fuckin’ monsters to show me just how depraved you really are.”
CHAPTER NINE
BAILEY
Somebody pinch me.
Every filthy fantasy I’ve ever had is coming to life at the hands of three masked men, and I don’t give a single fuck about fighting it. They seem to know me in ways that no man has ever cared enough to try, and I’m done pretending to be afraid.
They’re fucking dangerous.
Every instinct I have should be screaming at me to run, but there’s a darkness hidden somewhere in the depths of my being, something sick and twisted that has me starving, desperate for a taste of their brand of torment, no matter how wrong it is.
The floorboards creak beneath the weight of the tallstrangers, now standing at my side, and I feel their warmth roll over me, sending a wave of need straight to my desperate pussy, already fucking dripping for them. Myers closes in on my left, while Ghost’s body brushes against my right, and I just want to tell them to hurry their asses up, because all this edging is cute and everything, but my panties are fucking ruined.
“You want to taste her, don’t you?” the Jason guy says. I don’t know which one he’s speaking to, maybe both, but it feels like they’re waiting for him to give the green light before they touch me.
“Yes, Sir,” they answer in unison, and Jesus H Christ, there’s no mistaking who calls the fucking shots here. Jason gives the smallest nod, and the monsters at my side waste no time. Their hands are already on my body, sliding across my skin with practiced ease. They tug at the seams of my costume, peeling away the fabric and stripping me down piece by piece until I’m standing completely bare before them in the moonlight.
I wish I could see the looks on all their faces, because if their pause is anything to go by, I’d say they like what they see.
“Chain her,” Jason orders, and I squeeze my thighs together by instinct, desperate for even the smallest friction. I need them, and I need them now. Through the shadows, I catch the gleam of the Jason guy’s eyes through his mask, and he shakes his head with anunspoken ‘no’. My breath catches, and I immediately straighten, my body obeying before my mind can protest, hating how perceptive he is.
Ghost seizes my wrist, pinning it high above my head, before Myers works on the other, instantly locking me in place. I tug at the restraints, my pulse spiking with anticipation. I look up and freeze. My wrists aren’t just bound, they’re padlocked.
How the hell did I miss the padlocks?
Ghost shifts behind me, his presence like an ominous shadow, and I bite my lip when Myers moves in closer. I do a double-take when I realize that he’s now naked andcome to fucking momma, he’s hot.Silver light pours over him, tracing every sharp edge of his ripped body, and I want to trail my tongue along the ink sprawled across his skin. It’s not light enough for me to distinguish the designs, but come on, he’s got tattoos, that’s all that counts.
