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“You taste like Heaven,” he murmurs against my skin.
Gage pulls his hand out of my pants as Maddox takes over supporting my weight. I feel absolutely boneless. Gage steps away, knowing his brother has me. I immediately feel the loss of his warmth and reassuring presence, but he doesn’t go far. He walks right in front of me and stops. I drag my heavy feeling head from Maddox’s shoulder and look up questioningly at Gage.
“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Isabella,” he murmurs, before sucking his fingers into his mouth. He makes a show of licking them clean, from palm to fingertip, not missing a drop. “Your pussy tastes like vanilla ice cream, wouldn’t you agree, Madd?”
“Best fuckin taste I’ve ever had in my mouth,” Madd agrees with a dark chuckle before kissing my forehead, just as my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud cry for food, reminding me that I’ve barely eaten today. Maddox’s chuckle turns into a full, velvety laugh. “As much as I want to lick your cunt and clean up the mess you made, I think we need to feed you, baby girl.”
I nod against Maddox’s chest. I feel fucking incredible and I don’t even care that I can feel my pussy juices dripping down my thighs. My body is blissfully numb and exhausted. Gage disappears for a moment as Madd continues to hold me against his chest, gently rocking me back and forth like he’s trying to calm me or something. I don’t know. All I know is that if he keeps this up, I’ll be asleep before we make it to the kitchen.
Gage returns with a warm wet towel. Where the fuck he got it, I have no idea. But as he drops to his knees in front of me and gently tugs the sweats down, I can’t help but fight the tears that want to surface. The gentle and sweet affection he’s showing me by cleaning up the sticky cum I’ve released everywhere is one of the nicest acts anyone has ever done for me following a sexual encounter. Any other day or time, I may feel weird about this, but I just can’t manage to feel a damn negative thing right now.
“Let’s go feed you and get you to bed. Tomorrow, we’ll talk,” Madd says as he picks me up and carries me to the elevator, Gage on his heels.
At this moment, all I can do is enjoy the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, without a care in the world, knowing he and his brother will take care of me. Tomorrow, I’ll get the answers I need,withoutletting them distract me.
Ella
Iwakeupmorerested than I think I’ve ever been. Between the life-altering orgasm, a full belly, and the heavy pain killers I’m on, I was out cold. It was fucking beautiful. However, despite the solid 10 hours of nightmare-less sleep that I got last night, in the bright light of the morning, I’m reeling.
What the fuck happened yesterday? Like seriously. What and the ever-loving-fuck was all that?
Two of the hottest men I’ve ever met kissed me dead. My best friend and I had it out. The boys basically admitted to being hardened and dangerous criminals and then demanded that I stay with them anyway. Hunter walked out on me,again. I amped myself up to finally get some answers about this shit show but quickly abandoned my entire plan and instead, got off with not one, buttwoof said hardened criminals.And fuck were they hard.
I don’t even know what part is bothering me the most right now. The fact that they are who they are, letting them both finger-fuck me within an inch of my life or admitting that I need pain with my pleasure to get off? All of it, I think.
It’s just all so goddamned much. Between the revelation of who these guys really are, along with the shit show that has been the last two weeks of my life, I’m overwhelmed. Way, majorly overwhelmed. More than that, I’m confused as fuck, and maybe even a little embarrassed. I have never been comfortable being sexual nor have I ever been confident with my body. Ever since I woke up from my accident 10 years ago, my life has been one catastrophe after another. My body has been broken, used, abused, and wrecked. I honestly don’t remember a time when I genuinely felt comfortable in my own skin.
But that’s changed.They are changing it.I don’t understand how or why my brain and maybe even heart, have decided to let them, of all people, in. I’ve only known them a short time and I’ve only been in their house for 4 days. Yet, I’ve allowed myself to get naked and vulnerable with them not once, but twice. It blows my fucking mind.
So did that orgasm. I’ve had maybe a handful of successful orgasms in my entire life. All by myself. I discovered that it takes pain to keep me present, so I’ve used that tactic to get off. But the idea of doing that, especially to myself, makes me feel gross afterward. After the sexual and physical abuse that I’ve been through, the pain and suffering that traumatized me, how can it also be the one thing that gets me across that finish line?
And last night? That was the best and strongest orgasm I have ever had. I fuckinggushedfor them. Gage and Maddox worked my body like a finely tuned instrument. Their hands, mouths, dirty words, pain, and overwhelming pleasure; it was out of this world. I was so blissed out from the orgasm that I could barely speak let alone keep my head up while I ate dinner and took my pills. I was asleep within minutes of hitting the bed.
The boys seemed to understand last night was not the time for conversations or figuring things out. They ate with me in comfortable silence, before redressing my wounds and helping me to bed. It was all so fuckingnice.
What are they playing at? I have to find out. My head is spinning with questions and I need answers. No more diversions. No more kissing or touching until they tell me what I want, noneedto know.
I roll out of bed, happy that my ribs feel a tiny bit better today, and head to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. Not that I expect to be doing much of anything, but I’m tired of feeling and looking like a drowned rat.
After a long, hot shower, I feel more alive than I have in weeks. I’m finally able to redress my wounds myself and though I’m sad that there will undoubtedly be more scars on my body, I’m happy that things are healing well. I don’t want to be immobilized and bedbound. I’m 21 fucking years old. I’m too young to feel so old and sore all of the time.
When I come out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white towel, I’m surprised to find shopping bags sitting on a freshly made bed with new, clean linins. I can’t help but laugh. I didn’t take any of these men for bed makers or sheet washers. But as neat and shiny as the house is, I guess it’s safe to assume they have a house cleaner. In fact, I’m surprised there’s not a butler at the front door.
I pad over to the bed and take a look through the brown paper shopping bags. They are all completely full of women’s clothing. Shirts, jeans, yoga pants, athletic wear, tanks, hoodies, swimsuits, and even bras, socks, and panties. I’m shocked that everything is not only in my size, but they are things that I would actually wear. Except for the panties. Some of them are normal, thongs and boyshorts, which makes me happy because who wants to sleep with floss up your ass? No thank you.
However, some of them have the ability to make me blush by just touching them. These aren’t panties. This is lingerie.Fuck. I dump out the bag that’s overflowing with all sorts of undergarments and find matching lace bras and even nighties and negligees. What the hell? Do these men think that I’m going to live here and prance around looking like a French maid? Holy shit. No, no, no! I toss the see-through lace contraptions back into the bag and stuff the whole thing in the bottom dresser drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.
I put on a normal-looking thong, along with a pair of yoga pants, a sports bra, and an oversized, off-the-shoulder sweater. The sweater is a thin and soft cream-colored material that feels like fucking cashmere and hangs effortlessly and perfectly off of my body. It’s adorable and exactly something that I would pick for myself. I can guarantee that Gage picked it. He misses nothing.
I throw my wet hair into a braid and brush my teeth, preparing myself for whoever might be on the other side of the bedroom door and the conversation we need to have. I pad out of the bathroom and to the door as I steel my spine. I’m more nervous to see them after what we did last night than I am to find out what type of criminals they are. I’m not sure what that says about me.
Stepping into the main space, I’m bummed when I see that it's empty. As quickly as it came, the nervousness of confronting them is replaced by the sadness of them not being out here as I had expected. Did they leave? Am I alone in their home? Suddenly, I realize that we never established any type of rules or boundaries for this situation. Am I supposed to stay here alone? Should I go back to my room? Can I explore the house or is that frowned upon? Can I leave to go see Hunter or the girls or is that unsafe? Fuck. We really should have talked instead of what we did last night. Though, I wouldn’t take that back for anything. Just thinking about it makes my clit throb.
I’m in the middle of a mental spiral when I hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The noise echoes through the large, open space and I have another bout of nervousness over who it might be. What if it’s just me and Nyx here? And I haven’t even met that Stone guy yet.
“Morning, baby girl. You’re up early,” Maddox chirps cheerily as he hops off the final few stairs and heads straight for me. My heart thumps at the endearment.
Better-Khalid
