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While there’s still the lingering disgust at what is to come with this Pledging ceremony, my body is craving a release. There’s too much damn testosterone in this place, even with all the glass walls and broody forest scenery outside to distract me.
Because now, I apparently have free rein around the whole compound to explore on my own. Including the outdoor areas like the pool and the enormous wooden entertaining deck that brushes against the edge of the misty pine trees.
They seem happy to leave me alone to my own devices. Probably monitoring my every move on security cameras, mind you. So I act the obedient captive and don’t attempt to flee, even though there’s a constant nagging in my mind that I’m fucked in the head and absolutely-definitely-should-be trying to make my escape. I should at least be planning one, shouldn’t I?
To make matters worse, staying here is no hardship. In fact, it puts anything I’ve ever dreamed of living in to shame. The fridge seems to be perpetually stocked with the foods I requested on my list, and the open-plan kitchen has every appliance and modern top-of-the-line feature you could imagine. Half of them I’m too afraid to touch—in all honesty, I don’t know what they do, or how to operate them.
I’ve explored as far around the square-shaped wings of the compound as I dare. The only places I haven’t poked my nose into are situated on the opposite side of the central pool and glassed-in courtyard—which feels like being inside a tropical vision no matter what time of day you go out there. I’ve found myself spending more and more time either swimming, curling up on one of the loungers reading, or drawing.
The library that sits off the lounge is huge. In fact, this whole place is huge in its heavy-set masculine proportions. If I thought the windows in my bedroom were impressive, the day I casually wandered into the living space for the first time, I nearly shattered my plate all over the concrete floor.
I’m not even sure if you can call it a lounge. Double-height glass panels all finished in black edging form a pointed V shape at the top. The whole wall made of glass has a cathedral-like feel to it with the way it towers so high above my head. The vast window stretches the length of the room and honestly is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It opens up the whole lounge to look out over the rolling forest outside.
Breathtaking doesn’t even begin to do it justice.
There are deep-set soft couches in here that might as well be beds for how wide and comfortable they look. It's the type of space you could sprawl out in and lie down at full stretch, yet still have room for ten more people to do the same.
Everything is finished in dark shades of charcoal and stone gray, but against the vibrant shades of green rippling through the trees outside, it totally works.
At the far end is where I discovered the library, in its own alcove with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a mezzanine floor with steps leading up to another reading area and books stacked as high as they can go.
From up on that midlevel, the view is astonishing. Rolling valleys stretch out beyond the limits of the trees closest to the windows. Off in the far distance, I can see a ribbon of turquoise coastline and recall them mentioning something about this place being located on a peninsula. Which would explain the fortress-like security gate we passed through the other night.
They can secure this place from the outside world with one entrance and exit point only. One road in. One road out.
It’s smart. Tactical. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the likes of Thorne Calliano.
Who, incidentally, I haven’t seen for days now. He’s like a whisper in the air, where I come across his scent and the faintest traces of him in the books I find on these shelves, or the missing coffee cup from the matching set in the cupboard. But otherwise, he’s been a ghost in this place.
As for the murderous one…he initially went missing after the night at Noire House when he savaged that asshole. I haven’t had the courage to ask where he went, or what he does when he’s not here because I’m nearly one hundred percent sure he murders people for the Anguis.
Being in my father’s world taught me one thing, and that was to recognize those who deal in death. Not in the way that Thorne or Ky will do so if compelled to in their line of work, but for the likes of Raven it's different. I can tell his role is something more.
His soul is stained, and it shows in the deeply carved lines around his eyes.
Eyes and hands that have witnessed far too much blood.
For some reason, it doesn’t make me want to hurl up my lunch at the thought of him probably snapping people’s necks with his bare hands. Maybe I’ve got a kink for men who kill for a living.
It wouldn’t be a surprise, considering the world I inhabited for so long—the one I’m still trapped in like quicksand.
Tonight, I settled in my newfound perch on the mezzanine level, with a small pool of light from a table lamp for company. Lying sideways in the oversized armchair with my legs dangling over one side and a book in hand, I’ve hidden up here for hours. After a while, I hear low voices downstairs. For the vast majority of today, I’ve been rolling around this place by myself, so the sound of the men being in the house feels a little strange. Being immersed in the pages of my book, I’d almost forgotten for a moment that they come and go like wild creatures in the night.
Curiosity gets the better of me as I sit up a little, which gives me a secret vantage point to spy on the level below since there’s only a thin metal railing in the way.
Ky and Raven appear, both disheveled and half-naked in a way that unmistakably screams we’ve just been fucking. My thighs clench as heat snakes through my core. Ever the provider, it would seem, Ky holds two bottles of water and passes one over as they talk quietly between themselves. I really wish there was a way I could hear them, but I don’t need to. Their body language tells me everything as I greedily soak up every little touch and signal of post-orgasm glow going on between them.
Ky lets out a playful laugh; his fingers push back his long hair, which is loose and mussed. Whatever he said causes the other man to scowl and grab him by the waistband, dragging him so close that their hips are flush with one another’s. Raven bites Ky’s lower lip and tugs on it slowly. Seductively.
An inferno races through my bloodstream, leaving my clit pulsing with a heartbeat of its own. I nearly let out a moan worthy of a porn star, barely catching the wanton sound before it escapes my mouth.
They’re all muscles and strength and beauty together in a way that makes me breathless. I have to do everything to prevent myself from making a sound up here; there’s no way I want them to know how long I’ve spied on this intimate moment between them.
Thorne’s words fly into my horny brain. If any of us need a fuck, trust me, we’re all well taken care of.
God, I want to be taken care of. In as many ways and places and positions as possible.
And the increasingly graphic dreams I’ve been having every night lately have featured all of these men. Now, the way I’ve just witnessed a new side to Raven—one where he oozed control and sex with that single commanding move has got my pussy tingling.
