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Arrow nudges my shoulder from beside me with a grin.
“What do you think, Kitten? Is this everything you dreamed it would be?”
I raise a brow. “You act like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”
Jericho snorts into his drink. “Well, this is everything I thought it would be. Stuffy relatives. Schmoozing businessmen with their noses so far up my father’s ass, they’re coming out with shit on them.”
“Filthy brown nosers,” Arrow hums, finishing off his entire glass of champagne in one gulp. “Ahhh—but they have the best damn booze.”
As a waiter dressed in black slacks and a red vest meanders by with an empty tray, Arrow sets his glass on it. He immediately eyes the next waiter with a tray full of fresh drinks, and as they pass, he grabs two glasses and hands one to me.
“Booze up, Kitten. You’ll need it. It’s going to be a long night of introductions and bureaucracy.”
I wrinkle my nose, staring into the bubbly champagne. “Bottoms up, then,” I mumble, taking a large gulp of the concoctions, letting my eyes survey the room.
People in fancy dresses and suits mill around, slowly drinking their beverages and conversing with one another. As far as the eye can see, diamonds twinkle in the low lights, and money flashes in every corner. I bet the people here are worth more than I could possibly wrap my mind around. Millions, no doubt.
But they aren’t the only people dripping in beautiful dresses and fancy suits. We are, too. Fit the part and all. That’s what my monster taught me, at least. Besides, Jericho wasn’t going to allow me out of the house in rags. Quite the contrary. He forced my ass into the most expensive dress hanging in my closet. No matter how much I protested. Believe me, I know the price, because the ten-thousand dollar price tag still hung from the beautiful red, floor-length gown fit with actual fucking diamond studs and a name-brand tag.
“We’re showing you off tonight. We want to make my father aware that he can never remove you from my grasp,” Jericho mumbles, waltzing around me as Arrow zips up my dress.
“And this dress says—You belong to the Devils,” Arrow says, squeezing my ass from behind.
“Stop that!” I hiss, swatting him away.
“Don’t worry, Little Chaos. We’ll be dressed in our best, too.”
As he says that, Shepp bursts into the room with a frown, holding three suits protected by plastic. He stops dead, dropping them when his eyes catch me.
“Oh, instant boner, right?” Arrow quips, trailing a finger up my bare back, not shielded by the dress. I shiver when he follows the trail around my front, where it dips, exposing my tattoo. I swallow hard with nerves when he traces the tattoo repeatedly. Normally, my insecurities would eat me alive and I’d hide it beneath my corset. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m showing my monster who is really in charge here. “Gabriel Viotto won’t know what hit him. You’re ours. He can’t marry any of us off to anyone else. I’ll stab her.” He shrugs.
“Marry you off to someone else?” I ask, leaning on Arrow when Jericho bends down to slip my high heels on.
Why did it have to be high heels? Why couldn’t it have been flats? Or tennis shoes. Heels were made by men to torture women more. When these jerkbags aren’t looking, I’m switching my shoes. I’d argue now, but Jericho has had a stick up his ass all day. I mean, probably because Arrow drugged him and tied him to a chair last night, but that’s beside the point.
Shepp comes before me, laying a gentle kiss on my lips. “Beautiful,” he mouths without speaking.
A heat rises on my neck, leading onto my cheeks. “Thanks,” I say, clearing my throat.
“He’s right, Kitten. You’ll be the talk of the party.” He grins, tapping my ass a few times, and marches away, snatching up his suit. “Time to suit up, boys.”
“That’s our cue,” Jericho says, standing tall before me shirtless, exposing his taut muscles. “Don’t move a muscle.”
“Oh, and when I get back, Kitten. We’ll put that fun toy up your ass so I can control it all night long. It’ll drive you mad, and then, I can eat you for dessert in the bathroom. Have to pass the time somehow,” Arrow grumbles, rolling his eyes as he exits the room with his suit and the other two follow.
I shift slightly and blow out a breath. I’ve decided to pick my battles with the boys. For one, I’m still in high heels, helping me to at least reach Jericho’s shoulders. Shepp, though? He’s so tall, that I barely reach his pecs. So, I guess these have their advantages. Comfort not being one of them. But I did win the battle of the butt plug. So, that’s a win in my book. Arrow fought so hard to try and convince me to let him stick that thing up my butt, but I said no. Not until I’m used to it more. Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad and made sex out of this world. So, we’ll do that later.
“I could have been driving you mad by now, Kitten,” Arrow grumbles, throwing back another gulp of champagne.
“You’re going to have to slow down,” Jericho says, eyeing Arrow’s drink. “Or I’m going to have to speak with Brandon manning the bar tonight about cutting you off.”
“Only if you pry it out of my cold, dead hands,” Arrow retorts with a grin, setting the empty glass on another passing tray.
“We’ll see,” Jericho hums in warning, eyeing Arrow with a deathly stare.
“You’ll protect me from him, right?” Arrow murmurs in my ear, sliding his hand down my backside to squeeze my ass hard. “I’ll give you fifty orgasms if you keep him away from me.”
I snort. “You already do that, though.”
