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I don’t think that’s very hygienic, if I remember a few conversations I overheard back at Sapphire correctly, but I can’t bring myself to care all that much right now. I’m too comfortable, and some part of me wants to stay marked up like this, sticky and content. So when he rolls off me, I just nestle into his arms, letting his release trickle down over my thigh.
“How are your stitches?” I murmur sleepily.
“Can’t feel them at all. You’re magic, pretty girl. The best kind of medicine.”
He presses a kiss to my hair, tucking my head under his chin as he pulls me closer against his body. Less than five minutes later, I’m asleep.
45
WILLOW
I wakeup in the middle of the night, feeling sore but cozy. Ransom is tucked up close behind me, and I don’t want to move at all. But I kind of need to pee, and I really don’t want a UTI, so after debating for a short moment, I manage to wriggle out of his hold.
He’s a heavy sleeper, and the combination of the long night and the booze he drank while Malice stitched him up seem to have him out like a light.
A smile tugs at my lips as I watch him sleep in the darkened room, then I throw on a shirt and slip out of the room as quietly as I can, moving down the hall to the bathroom so I can pee.
I sigh with relief as I empty my bladder, then wash my hands quickly and leave the bathroom, ready to crawl back into bed and go back to sleep. But as I start to head down the hall, I notice a light flickering from Victor’s room.
It has to be so late it’s early by now, probably sometime around three a.m., and usually Victor has his door closed, so I’m surprised he’s still awake.
Instead of heading back to Ransom’s bedroom, I move down the hallway to Vic’s room to poke my head in. Honestly, I’m kind of glad he’s still up. I’ve been wanting to talk to him after everything that happened the other night. He didn’t participate as directly as his brothers did, but he was still there. It still changed things between us, and I want to clear the air.
It’s impossible to ignore the way I’m so drawn to him, and I think he feels something for me too, despite the fact that he can be so closed off sometimes. I’ve been learning so much more about him lately in the small little moments we’ve shared, and if I’m being honest with myself, I want more of that.
The more I piece together of his story, the more I’m starting to understand him.
He’s broken in some ways, because of what their dad did to him. Because he spent so much of his childhood being groomed to be some kind of brutal solider instead of just getting to be a little boy, so now it’s hard for him to tap back into his own humanity sometimes. It calls to something in me—maybe the part of me that feels like I was never loved and cared for the way a person should be, just used and treated like a burden.
I stick my head into his room, about to whisper his name, when I realize that I was wrong.
He’s not awake after all. He’s stretched out on his bed, sleeping soundly, his face smooth and more relaxed than usual.
My eyes dart from him to one of the computer screens on the large L-shaped desk set against the walls, and I realize the flickering light wasn’t coming from him working on the computer, but something playing on the screen. It’s a video of some kind, and I frown, stepping farther into the room as the images flash across the screen.
I tiptoe across the space, squinting a little in the darkness to see it better. Then I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle a gasp of shock.
This isn’t just some random video.
It’s images ofme.
There’s footage of me in my apartment, oblivious to the fact that I’m being watched. There’s a shot of me in the bathtub, my eyes closed as I touch myself. The sound is muted, but when my mouth moves, I know I’m moaning, and my face flushes at the memory even as my blood runs cold with shock.
There’s a clip of me on my bed, spread open and flushed, with Malice’s head between my legs as he eats me out. I watch as I thrash around, bucking and arching against him, clearly losing myself to the pleasure.
There’s even blurry footage from the golf course where Colin attacked me and tried to rape me. In the clip, I can see him kissing me and groping me. It doesn’t show me trying to fight him off, and the angle and image is so bad that it looks like I’m leaning into him. Like I want it. The two of us end up on the ground with him on top of me, and then the setting changes again.
This time, it’s a living room with a couch and two chairs, and four people occupying the space.
I recognize it immediately, and ice crawls through my veins.
This is from the other night.
It’s a wide shot, the camera probably hidden somewhere near the base of the stairs. I’m on my knees in front of one of the chairs, sucking Malice’s cock, taking as much of him as I can into my mouth. At a certain point, I look up. My eyes are glassy and wide, and even without the sound on, it’s obvious that I’m begging him for something.
After another few seconds, it cuts to me riding Ransom’s cock, his hands gripping my hips, my head thrown back as I take it. Then to Malice, hunched over me, fucking me hard and viciously. Using me like a rag doll. Then there I am sprawled out on the couch, already a filthy mess, looking fucked out and wrecked. Victor comes over, his cum spattered hand gripping his shaft, and I lean up, licking his dick like I’m starving for it.
My stomach clenches, a wave of nausea rushing through me. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
