Page 95 of Sweet Torment

Tristan sighs. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little disagreement with the old man.”

Bianca’s eyes narrow dangerously. Before Tristan can stop her, she grabs the bottom of his shirt and lifts it, revealing the dark bruises already forming across his ribs and stomach.

There’s a sharp intake of breath.

“A little disagreement?” she whispers, fingers hovering over the discolored skin. “Tristan...”

“He said something unforgivable about you. I got in a good hit. This,” he gestures to his body, “was more than worth it.”

Bianca turns to Owen, who’s trying to edge away. “And you?”

“My father gets off on inflicting pain,” Owen mutters, but she’s already reaching for him. “What else is there to say?”

“Both of you, bathroom, now. I need better light to see what I’m working with.”

“You can kiss it better,” Tristan suggests with a wink, and Owen smirks.

I watch as Bianca herds them both toward the bathroom. They tower over her as they follow along behind her. Even if they gripe at the attention, there’s no place else they’d rather be. It’s amazing how this tiny woman is bringing us back together again. I honestly didn’t think we could ever be repaired after not just Whitney, but everything. The relationships between us were too strained, even after a lifetime of growing up together.

But she’s making quick work of it.

I hear laughter from the bathroom—Bianca followed by Owen and Tristan’s deep chuckles.

“Sounds like our little nurse is getting distracted from her duties,” Freddie says with a raised eyebrow, picking up the book from the couch that Bianca had been reading.

I move toward the bathroom, drawn by curiosity and something darker, and find the door open. What I see makes my blood run hot.

Bianca is trapped between Owen and Tristan, her back pressed against Owen’s chest while Tristan crowds her from the front. Owen has his thumbs hooked into her underwear as his hands rest on her hips. Tristan has one hand cupping her chin, and the other is winding beneath her shirt.

“This isn’t fair,” she protests, but her voice is breathless. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“You are taking care of us.” Tristan brushes his lips against hers. “This is exactly what I need.”

Owen dips his head to her shoulder, biting down softly as she shudders. “Better than any medicine,” he rumbles against her skin.

Bianca’s eyes flutter closed, and I yank at my collar. Her pleasure is so delicious. I stand frozen in the doorway, watching as her body responds to their touch, unable to look away despite the jealousy scratching beneath my skin.

Sharing her is a constant battle within me. My instincts scream to take her away, lock the door, and keep her all to myself. I want to know that every sound she makes and every breath she gasps for is because of me; yet there’s an undeniable beauty in how she somehow manages to make each of us feel chosen, even when we’re sharing.

Since her heat, she’s asked me to be inside her every night when we go to bed. The feel of her small body as I curl around her is why I haven’t been getting much sleep lately at all. I wait until everyone passes out, even her. “See if you can fuck me while I’m sleeping without waking me,” she’d said.

She’s a magnet for me when she’s awake, but asleep is a side just for me. I’m obsessed with pushing into her and feeling her nipples pebble beneath my palm. Her little moans, stutters in breathing. I test different speeds and styles to see what she likes more. She loves slow fucking—soft and shallow—but is also a fan of deep and dominant, me sucking bruising marks into her skin as I pin her down while she whines in her sleep, her quiet little begs music to my ears.

Some nights I come inside her four or five times until I’m completely empty and have filled her up in the most beautiful way. It’s obscene, and I can’t get enough. I feel guilty about indulging in her, but I’m not sure I can stop. She may or may not realize how much control she’s giving me after spinning out for years. The others haven’t pushed back yet, but I’m not naive enough to think this arrangement will last forever.

Owen’s desire to have her alone runs as deep as mine, even though he’s shocked me with his sharing skills. Tristan is greedy but enjoys sharing. The fact that he’s counting her orgasms in that little notebook because he needs to catch up with the omega is very Tristan. And Freddie—Freddie will get the most vulnerable parts of her, and the shift in his moods since she’s been back has been enormous.

We’re in a hellscape, and all everyone is worried about is fucking Bianca senseless.

I could only equate it to an addiction that we all have. Every second we’re inside her, she’s safe, she’s ours, she’s real, she’s mine.

Dinner away from her was a nightmare.

Owen catches my gaze over Bianca’s shoulder, his eyes darkening with challenge. He deliberately slides one hand up from her hip, under the hem of her shirt, lifting it to expose one of her perfect breasts. The fabric bunches just above the pale curve, revealing her completely to me. Bianca gasps as Tristan bends down to suck her nipple into his mouth enthusiastically, biting down and making her squirm.

My cock is pressing painfully against my zipper. Tristan and Owen love these little pissing contests, and Bianca gets off on them fighting over her.

I can’t deny the visceral effect of watching her come undone from an outsider’s perspective. I study every expression on her face, the way her body flushes so beautifully, the minute she gives in and lets them take control of her, knowing it will give her immense pleasure if she does.