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35
Mare
Ibreathed through my nose as Ian took my hand and led me out of Jensen’s bedroom towards his room. Behind me, Jensen and Archer followed, and I had a feeling that whatever they had planned would help the last bits of dissonance swirling in my body from what happened.
A muscled torso pressed into my back, the scent of menthol, citrus, and cotton swirling around me telling me it was Archer. The roughness of his beard trailed over the crook of my neck as he pressed gentle kisses to my skin. Tilting my head, I gave him better access, rocking my ass against his already hard cock.
Jensen’s tanned skin and half-lidded mossy hazel eyes appeared in front of me, his fingers gripping my chin lightly. Tilting my head up ever so slightly, he stared down at me briefly before pressing his lips to mine. My eyes fell closed, losing myself in their touches and mouths.
The kiss was gentle, but the pure passion within it made my toes curl and my heart start to race. Being trapped between the two of them, my mind started to relax, that familiar blanket of safety and warmth—of home—wrapping around me, dulling the memories of the kidnapping.
It was only when they stepped away that I opened my eyes, a frown forming on my lips as I looked at the three of them. They watched me for a moment, only making my curiosity grow.
“What are you planning?” I asked when they didn’t move.
“Do you trust us?” Ian questioned. What kind of question was that? Of course, I did. I nodded, but he frowned. “No, Mare. I need to hear you say it.”
“I trust you,” I murmured.
“Do you give yourself to me? To us?”
“Yes.”
“Will you let us do whatever we want to you?”
“Where is this going, Ian?” I frowned, my brows drew together in confusion.
His fingers found my waist, and he used his hold to pull me into him. All of the air in my lungs escaped as I felt the hard planes of his body against me. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine. “We could have lost you today,” he said, his voice quiet. His words trembled slightly, and his eyes showed me everything he struggled to express. Fear mixed with care and love, warmth—all the same sensations I felt. The last few days had been hard on all of us, and Ian was trying to show me the best way he knew how.
“Jensen and Archer are tense, but so am I, baby,” he started again, swallowing hard before continuing. “We need you. We need you in a way that we’ve never had you before. And I need to feel like I’m back in control.” I opened my mouth to respond, but he lifted a finger and pressed it to my lips. “Oh, I know you’re really the one with all of the control, Mare. You own me. Body and soul. You ownthem.” He nodded to the doorway and Jensen and Archer stepped out, leaving me alone with Ian. It was only a few seconds before they returned, but I couldn’t see around Ian to know what they were doing. “But tonight, give us your submission. Let us sink into you like we did before. Remind us that you’re still here.”
When he put it like that, how could I refuse? How could I even question him? There was nothing more I wanted, now or in the future, than to feel like I washome. To feel like I truly had a family that cared about me, wholly in mind, body, and soul. Exhaling all the pent up fear and worry, I leaned up, brushing my mouth across his. “Yes,” I whispered. “I give myself to you. All of me to all of you.”
Ian’s eyes closed, and for a moment, he looked like he was suffering the greatest agony. Then his eyes opened, and when his head came down, his lips slammed against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs. He kissed me like a starving man, turning us and marching me backwards with his fingers gripped on my sides. Never did he let his lips pull away. Not even when I felt hands touch me from behind. I kissed him back, my tongue tangling with his as familiar masculine hands reached around from behind me, unbuttoning my pants and sliding them down.
No underwear, as Ian had ordered. Surely, I figured, he’d have to stop kissing me so I could get the shirt over my head. But then I felt the chill of scissors against my neck and my shirt collar being pulled away from my nape.
“Don’t move, sweetheart,” Jensen said in my ear. The scissors glided down a few inches, and then they were removed. I jolted when Jensen took either side of the material of the shirt and ripped it the rest of the way. Everything wound tighter in anticipation, the cool air brushing against my skin sending a shiver down my spine.
As soon as the shirt was clear of my skin, Ian tilted his head and dove back into my mouth. My bra came off next and I was left standing in nothing but my skin before them; only then did Ian release me. As he pulled away, I found my gaze zeroed in on how dilated his pupils were, the black orbs nearly engulfing the stormy irises. I did that. Me.
“Hold your hands out,” he ordered.
I frowned but did as commanded. Archer appeared with a length of jute rope, and my eyes widened for two reasons. One, Archer was completely naked. The divots in his Adonis belt pointed directly at his cock as it stood at attention, thick and straining against his lower belly. And two, the rope set off warning bells in my head. I stared at it, feeling my limbs tremble. I struggled with the idea of what they were thinking of, unsure if I could … after what had happened today. A sliver of my mind wondered if I could ever truly see a length of rope and not remember. They still reminded me that I’d been bound and helpless before someone who had wantedmeand then had wanted tokillme because I’d rejected him.
“Ian…” I watched as Archer handed him the rope, and Ian stepped forward. He didn’t move further than his single step to stand before me, not making any attempts to loop the material around my wrists.
“Trust, Mare,” Ian murmured. “You have a safe word. As soon as you say it, this rope comes off. You’re in control here. Everything else is window dressing.”
Tears seeped into my eyes. “I-I don’t know if I can,” I whispered, the words grating against my tongue as they left my lips. I hated the admittance, hated the new weakness it betrayed.
Ian ducked his head and looked at me. “You’re one of the strongest women I fucking know, Mare. You’re strong enough to handle anything life fucking throws at you. If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. Not now or ever because I know this scares you, and I knowwhyit scares you—it’s why we decided to do this tonight. I don’t want you to be scared for the rest of your life. There are other ways of being bound. My body on top of yours—or Archer’s or Jensen’s. Our hands holding you down. We can do that or we can try to overwrite what you experienced today. We want to show you that being bound does not mean being helpless.”
I shook at his words, not knowing how to respond. In my head, the only thing that kept circling was Nathanial’s face. The cold, deranged snarl of an obsessed assassin. I didn’t want to think of him, and instead focused hard on the men before me, wanting to stay in the moment with them and not get lost in a nightmare. Not just when I saw something that represented being bound, but I never wanted to think of him again. If I didn't try tonight, I might lose my best chance to fight the memories of him that were even now trying to sink into my mind and heart, hoping to become a permanent part of me. I had to admit that I was scared despite trusting these men with my life, but if I let them give me an out, I'd remember Nathanial every day of my fucking life, and I would let those memories rule me.
“Mare?” Ian prompted. “What do you want to do? I will drop this rope right now if you say the word, and you’ll never have to see it again. We can try again later if you want, or, if you don’t feel comfortable, I’ll never bring it into our bedroom again. None of us will. The choice is yours. It always has been and always will be yours.”
This time, the tears gathering in my eyes meant something new when I looked at him—at the three of them as they stared—and smiled. How lucky was I? God, I fucking loved them. Their patience, their teaching, the way thattheylovedme. No judgment, no anxiety, or worry.Safe. I was safe, and I was home here with them. I was fucking terrified of a piece of rope, but the more I thought about it, I wondered if there really was any reason to beafraid? This wasn’t Nathanial, or my father, or any other sick bastard. This was my men and me, being together in the most deliciously carnal way. They’d promised to take care of me, and I knew this was no different.
