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No one knew what to do with him till they found a comfortable, recognizable label to slap on his head, and what had I been doing the entire night if not looking for a similar solution for the Bedlam Boys? And for me.
Maybe I didn’t need to understand why I craved every woman’s worst nightmare as a fantasy. Obviously, I didn’t want sex forced on me in a situation I couldn’t control with a person I didn’t want. But with Cairo, Jacques, Roan, Legend, and Arsenio, it was different. With them, I was in charge of my fate. I decided when it broke us.
I thought of losing Gran, Ivy leaving, the Letter Man’s grip on my life, and the body at Black Widow Hill.
When in my life have I ever had control? When have I been able to make the bad things stop?
Jacques set his empty glass on the table. “Hands and knees. Face the doghouse.”
I did as ordered. I was up to ten for running off and not telling the guys where I went yesterday.
He secured my leash to the hook, then tugged my thong down. It was hardly getting in the way, but by Jacques’s erection the day before, he liked the view.
Thwap!
Stinging pain ricocheted through my cheeks. My body responded even as I hissed.
“One.”
Over and over, the leather tasted my skin, drawing my arousal to dampen the belt and get me in trouble once again. It was a never-ending cycle my wanton pussy was more than happy with.
“Six.”
A moan escaped. I bit my lip harder to hold them back.
“Don’t do that.” Jacques slipped his fingers inside me. “You don’t get to hold back what’s mine.”
He worked me effortlessly—crooking his fingers and teasing my clit with his thumb. Did you have to be a genius to achieve that level of dexterity while whipping someone’s ass? Because I was very impressed.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“You shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.”
“You shouldn’t add a third finger. Ugh, I hate that.”
He chuckled, and the sound was a straight shot to my core. No matter what he did. Even if you witnessed him burn the world down. You could not think of Jacques Stone as anything but an angel when he laughed.
Jacques gave me my third finger, stretching me to the limit. Soft sounds fell from my lips, mixed with hisses from each snap of the belt. It hurt so terribly and felt so amazing at the same time, and yet I knew I couldn’t have one without the other.
Roan was right. Pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin.
Thwap!
I came screaming, waking the whole house up. I reached behind and grasped his zipper to return the favor.
Jacques caught my wrist and gently returned it to its place.
“One,” he said.
He walked off, eroding my bliss with confused frustration.
What did I tell you? The other guys tromped down the stairs, filing past him. Jacques is not a wounded bird. He is never going to make it that easy for me.
I eased onto my sore backside, waiting for one of my boys to bring me breakfast, then carry me up for a thorough, intimate bath.
Yes, they were mine. The fact was setting in stone with every day I spent with them.
It was a mistake to think of them as soft men underneath who needed love to bring them out, but it was becoming clear how they saw me. I was their wounded bird—albeit wounds of their own making. I was theirs to tend, to cage, to punish, and to defend.
And although they did not understand it now, that kind of devotion led down a single path. One day, they would be as much mine as I was theirs.
I decided our fate.
We don’t end until I say we do.
***
“Do you get bagels every morning?” I asked as we entered the student union.
“It’s not about the bagels,” Legend said. “You can’t keep a close enough eye on your kingdom from the tower.”
“Ah, I get it. You’re surveying the serfs.” I mumbled something uncomplimentary under my breath.
“Heard that.”
Legend snaked an arm around me, drawing me close and pulling taut the leash around Cairo’s wrist.
“Has anyone told you that those lovelies are the perfect little handful? Not too small, but still big enough a man can suffocate between them.” He brushed his finger over my nipple, discreetly, so you could almost believe he wasn’t feeling me up in public. “Can’t wait for another go.”
“So, just to be clear,” I said, “your whole gentleman routine is a complete act.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He popped a kiss on my lips. “Actually, after this let’s...”
Legend trailed off as he stepped out onto the deck.
The New Boys gathered up the remains of their breakfast, getting up to toss it.
The New Boys was the name I gave Jeremy, Bentley, Micah, Gael, and Jonah that morning while I overheard the guys discussing them. It seemed like the appropriate name for a band of violent, hot troublemakers threatening to take over, and currently sitting at their table.
