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Even with my eyes closed, I canfeelhis gaze on me, watching, taking it all in. And even though I know Malice and Victor aren’t here, it’s as if my thinking about them too hard has summoned their dream selves to stand against the wall and watch their brother take me apart.
“Oh my god,” I moan. “I’m so—Ransom, I can’t—”
I can’t even get out full sentences anymore, so overcome by the pleasure. It’s filling me up, burning in my belly and bleeding outward, overtaking everything else.
“Are you going to come for me?” Ransom asks as his fingers find my swollen clit again.
I nod wildly, too overcome for words.
“Good.” His voice is a low burn. “Then open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me when you come.”
My eyes fly open and immediately find his face. His ocean blue irises are dark with desire, and he’s staring down at me intently, like he’s trying to memorize me.
When I look down my body, I can see his hand shoved beneath the waistband of my pants, and the sight makes it all feel more real. Almost involuntarily, my gaze flicks to the corner of the room, just to make sure the phantom eyes I felt on me were really all in my head.
No one is there, and Ransom flicks my clit lightly, sending a burst of sensation through me and snapping my attention back to him as I fly apart. The orgasm explodes inside me, euphoria shooting through my limbs all the way to my fingers and toes.
“So fucking beautiful,” Ransom breathes.
He doesn’t look away for a second, drinking in the sight of me as I writhe and shake on the bed, coming undone with gasps and soft cries.
It feels so good, and he works me through it, making the pleasure seem to last longer than it ever has before when I’ve touched myself. I forget how to breathe for a few long moments, and my vision goes blurry around the edges until I manage to suck in a deep, sharp gasp.
When I finally go limp and flop against the bed, Ransom drags his fingers out of my pants. He licks them one by one, gazing down at me the whole time.
“Mm,” he hums, a grin curving his lips. “I knew you would taste as sweet as you look. Tart like cherry pie, and silky like cream. Fucking delicious.”
My cheeks go impossibly redder at that, and my heart thuds as I stare up at him, unable to look away.
As another small aftershock quakes through my body, it hits me in a rush that I was wrong before. I’m not just falling down the rabbit hole.
I’m all the way at the bottom of it, already so much deeper than I ever meant to go.
34
VICTOR
A few more days go by,and Willow is still staying with us.
I’ve been working on incorporating her into my daily routines and habits, which is… strange. I’m not used to change, and I don’t like it. I prefer when things run the way they always have, and I don’t have to even think about the maintenance of them because the routine is so locked into place.
But with Willow here, I’ve been having to make adjustments to the things I’ve always done because of her.
On top of that, Ethan and his gang are taking out their anger on us by telling their allies not to bring us any stolen cars and to find another chop shop to take them to.
It’s a mess, and I knew it would be, but I’m leaving the fallout of that incident for my brothers to deal with.
I’m too busy trying to track down information about the man who was questioning Carl. I’m still searching for some facial recognition match for this guy, and every day that passes without a match, my irritation grows.
I don’t like when problems are hard to solve, and I especially don’t like when people aren’t easy to track down when I need them to be. Everything going on has just left me feeling off balance and out of sorts.
Walking through our home one afternoon, I pass by Ransom and Willow in the garage. He’s been teaching her stuff about cars, and she seems interested in it. More interested than I would have expected for someone like her, and I have to wonder if it’s the cars she likes or just being around Ransom.
Seeing them like this doesn’t do anything to really answer the question one way or another. The two of them talk easily, their heads bent over a car with the hood pulled up, their shoulders touching. Ransom points to something under the hood, launching into an explanation, and Willow seems hungry for the information, nodding and asking a follow up question that makes my brother grin. He nudges her shoulder with his and then takes her hand, guiding it to the part of the car in question.
Willow doesn’t flinch away or put distance between them. She leans in closer, nodding seriously and seeming completely at ease. There’s something comfortable and intimate about it, both of them taking pleasure in each other’s company, talking like old friends.
What is that like?
