Page 56 of Overworked


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The silence in the room is thick after the bustling attendants shut the heavy wood door. All four of them look to me. I catch Killian’s gaze and hold the stunning blue depth of his eyes.

We’re locked in a staring contest.

No one’s hungry; more primal needs are on the table.

“I’m truly not hungry for food at the moment,” Killian says, shattering the silence with his commanding voice.

“Julia. You have been our guest. You have learned—we all have learned—an incredible amount about us over the last week, and just as much have we learned about you. You know who we are, Angel.” His voice softens. “And we know who you are. I speak for all of us when I say we want you to be ours.”

My breath catches in my throat. My skin feels tight, and I really wish there had been panties I could’ve worn with this dress, because hearing Killian say those words out loud has me worrying about the integrity of this obviously expensive dress.

“We’re not ordinary men, Gem,” Xane takes over. “Not one of us would think to take a treasure like you away from the others.”

I nod happily.

“And, Princess, because we’re not ordinary men, we need you to understand what we’re asking of you. Spencer, the agreement?” Derek says, motioning to Spencer.

“Sweets, I mean, well…here,” Spencer pulls a heavy piece of grey paper from his inner jacket pocket. “Ya gotta understand, Sweets, this is kinda new for us too, and ya’ know, it’s a bit formal, not usually my style, but…”

I unfold the thick paper as he trails off.

At the top of the dove grey sheet is the same four crests from the door. Written in heavy black ink are what appear to be a set of rules for an ongoing relationship with the men around the table.

Basically, it comes down to fidelity and obedience: I won’t fuck anyone but them, I’ll do as they ask without hesitation, I’ll be punished at their pleasure, and I’ll refer to the four of them as ‘Sir’ at all times.

I raise an eyebrow; it reads like something out of an Alexis Angel novel.

“And what do I get? You’re asking me to be your devoted sex slave, what do I get in the deal?” I ask after I’ve read their list twice.

“You get us, Angel,” answers Killian. There’s an edge at the back of his words.

“You have us already, Gem; this is merely so we understand each other,” Xane continues for him.

“She knows that,” Killian interrupts. “Fuck, you know you have us. And I know you want this. Julia, you’ve never been as free as when you put on that fucking collar. We’re offering it to you forever. Take the deal, Angel. We know you want it as bad as we do.”

His eyes betray a flash of hesitation, but only for an instant. He hides his fear that I won’t agree well.

“We’ve got the feels real bad, Sweets. Tell me you have ‘em, too?” Spencer reaches a hand out to me. I hesitate briefly, but grasp it tight.

“It’ll be lovely, Princess. You know that. Killian, give her the present. Show her we mean it, for fuck’s sake,” Derek interjects.

Killian stands up and pulls out a flat box from inside his jacket pocket, then comes around the table. He kneels next to me.

“Say yes, be ours, let us cherish you as you deserve.”

He doesn’t open the box, he doesn’t move.

“Sir?” I whisper, trying it out.

A flutter in my heart and a shiver up my spine.

Something about saying that feels so right. I know what’s in the box. I know when I open it that it’ll be the end.

I’ll be theirs, and they’ll be my Doms.

I nod as Killian opens the box, giving my answer before I even see it: a silver filigree collar with an open ring clasp in the back and a diamond teardrop in the front.

Killian takes it out of the box and stands to put it around my neck. That satisfying click again. The silver’s cold on my skin, but warms quickly with my beating heart.

“Stand up and show your Masters your pretty collar,” Killian commands from behind my chair.

“Yes, Sir,” I breathe.

Chapter 29

Julia

I’m standing by a table in the dining room of the most beautiful ship I have ever seen. We’re miles from shore, heading towards New York from somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea, and I’m wearing a collar.

I don’t know how I got here, but this moment feels so right. Killian stands close behind me, the warmth of his body radiating as he leans into me. His breath blows cool in contrast, the mixture sending shivers up and down my spine.

I look around the table at the men I have agreed to submit to.

Spencer’s tousled blonde hair falls in front of his burning eyes. He leans back in his chair, affecting an air of relaxed ease, but I can see his breath’s coming fast; he’s tense beneath his surfer boy charms.

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