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And then I shriek. He breaches my opening, the only way I can describe it, and it hurts but also feels good, if that is possible.
“Try and relax, baby,” he says. “You’ll enjoy it more if you push a bit. Bear down.”
I have no idea what he means, but I squirm under him, hoping that will make it easier to get inside me, and when he does, fireworks go off all over my body, inside and out. I push back against him, wanting more, demanding more of his cock in my ass.
And he gives it to me.
When he plunges inside, it is such a shock that I arch my back, almost completely coming off the bed. He pushes me back down and thrusts in and out, drops of his sweat falling onto my back, his fingers digging at my waist.
I am a dirty girl, a nasty slut, an unrepentant sinner for letting Rowan violate my ass, but I want it to belong to him, so I writhe and scream until he is buried to the hilt. He holds himself inside me as both my pussy and ass pulse in an entirely new sort of way, one that I want to experience again. Right away, if possible, I think, as he empties himself inside me.
But it’s two a.m., and we are tired. Rowan takes me to the bathroom and cleans me up, murmuring soft words, totally out of character for his gruff façade. Even though he is a prickly, unpredictable man, when it comes to me he is caring. Thoughtful. Kind. Gentle.
I’d hate to experience his other persona.
And that’s when he lays the bomb on me.
“We want to take care of you, Lu. Set you up in an apartment. Give you money to spend.”
It’s funny, with all I’ve done with the guys, while I might have been conflicted, I’ve been able to reconcile my actions. But something about this offer doesn’t sit well.
“Excuse me?” I ask, running a comb through my knotted hair.
He shrugs like people talk about things like this all the time, standing there so unselfconscious in his nudity, beautifully muscular and strong, his now-tired cock still half-erect. “It’s just what it sounds like. You’ll have nothing to worry about. No more working at the club. We’ll pay for your studies. Everything.”
For a moment I feel like Cinderella, but then it passes and I feel plain dirty. I can’t explain it, but the shame, the old shame that was my best friend and became my nemesis, bubbles back to the surface.
I don’t want their money. I don’t want them to take care of me. I want a relationship where we are on equal footing. Where I do as much supporting of them as they do of me.
But they don’t work that way.
Which breaks my heart.
* * *
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
LUCI
I takemy time driving home, in no hurry to get there. The truth is, that while I plan to study with Charleigh today, I’m in pretty good shape for our upcoming test.
Bookkeeping suits me. It’s orderly. It has rules. You always know what to do next.
Sounlike the time I spend with Max, Rowan, and Greyson. With them, anything goes. The surprises never end.
I think I can live with a combination of the two, the certainty of bookkeeping and uncertainty of the guys. Maybe.
But the life of a bookkeeper is looking much more likely.
Not a life where three guys want to share me, who happen to also be involved in organized crime, just like all their friends and associates.
How in god’s name has life put me here, in this strange union of two such different worlds? Is it some sort of test?
And if so, am I passing? Or failing?
My mood sinks as I realize my time with the guys is probably coming to an end. Gwen will never let me see them exclusively, at least not for any real length of time, and yet I can’t imagine seeing any other club members. She won’t bless such an arrangement, so that means my days at the club are numbered.
On the other hand, if the guys ‘take care of me,’ as Rowan puts it, I won’t have to worry about working anywhere. But really, that would be just another job, right? And I’m not sure I want to work for these guys that way. I don’t want that kind of obligation hanging over my head, always wondering if they like me forme, rather than the challenge of keeping me as some sort of plaything.
