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I hum, leaning forward as I breathe her in. “Oh, little witch, you act as if you ever had a choice.”
My free hand goes down, and I bring it to the hem of her shirt, just beneath her breasts. Her skin twitches as I brush across her ribs. I step closer to her, and so do Levi and Felix, until we’re touching her from all sides.
“What are you guys doing?” she whispers.
I lean forward, tilting her chin up until our lips nearly touch. “Whatever the hell we want.”
“What if I say no?” she presses, stiffening, trying to not touch any of us, but in the end, her body grazes us anyway as she shivers.
“You won’t.” Atticus chuckles.
She lets out a shaky breath, and I swallow down my growl at her heady, feminine scent. It’s always earthy, like she sleeps and breathes ocean and crystals and trees.
“What are you guys going to do to me?” she whispers, a lick of fear in her tone.
I smirk at her, and her round eyes widen. “I’m going to tell my boys what to do to you. I’ll let them have their fun, and in turn, you’ll have your fun, and when you’re ready…” My fingers go to her skirt, and I pull on the zipper, loosening it around her waist and letting it float to her ankles. She remains in her boots and a pair of black panties that make her ass look delicious. “I’ll fuck you, and I’ll let them watch.”
A warmth of light pink rises from her chest, up her neck, and to her cheeks. Even her nose blushes.
I step away from her, and Levi and Atticus do the same.
“Take her shirt off, Atticus,” I say as I take another step back. I go to one of the nearby chairs, ripping the white sheet from it, then coming back to them. Atticus is dropping her shirt to the ground. Hazel looks… wild.
Her eyes are burning with a mixture of anger and desire. I understand the emotions. She wants to feel good, but she fights against us, because we aren’t on her side. We never have been. We’re enemies, and she’s standing in front of the worst of them, in nothing but a matching black panty and bra set, her creamy skin blushed and needy, her hands still fisted at her sides.
I walk up to her, standing in the middle of the room with the sheet in my hand. I toss the sheet up, looping it around the bannister in the ceiling. The other end falls down, and I pull it tight. “Come here, Hazel.”
“You’re not…no. You’re not tying me up,” she growls, taking a step back, bumping straight into Levi. His hands go to her waist, and I lift a brow at the way she shudders in his arms.
I’ll let them play, just for tonight, and then I think I’ll officially claim her as mine.
“You didn’t seem to mind when I tied you up the other night,” I rasp as I lean forward, snatching her wrists as I tug her to me. Her front crashes against my front, and I grab her wrists with one hand, lifting them above our heads. She fights against me, but I don’t allow it, squeezing tightly as I watch her green eyes darken. She licks her lips, and my eyes fall to her pink tongue, wanting to bite it. I want to tear into her, make her bleed, cause her whatever anonymous turmoil she seems to be causing inside of me.
I wrap the edge of the sheets around her wrists, pulling tight, loving the way her chest arches out, her spine straightening, the toes of her boots pressing against the wooden floor.
I squat down, my hands going to her thighs, my fingers sliding around her smooth skin. I trail them down, going to the grooves behind her knees, then around her calves until I reach the tops of her boots.
My fingers go to the zipper, and I pull down slowly, watching as her thighs press together above me. My eyes travel up from her boots, zoning in on the apex of her thighs, the lace transparent enough that I can see her naked sex beneath the fabric.
I take a deep breath, my gaze lifting to hers. “I can smell you, my little witch. Are you excited for what’s to come?” I take the boot off, tossing it aside. Then my finger curls beneath her ankle sock, peeling it from her skin. Her foot is perfectly arched, small, delicate in my hands. I set it down on the wood floor, and her toes press into the wood, looking like a dancer as she arches toward me.
“I don’t want this,” she breathes, her voice wavering, giving away her lie. She wants this as badly as all of us do.
I bring a finger up, brushing it against the lace of her panties. It’s wet, her arousal dampening through the fabric.
“You want this, baby. Your wet cunt is practically screaming for it.”
She closes her eyes, turning her head away from me.
My fingers go to her other boot, and I unzip it slowly, watching as her knees grow weak. Her fingers clutch the fabric above her, her teeth clamping down on her lower lip so roughly the skin breaks, a dollop of blood falling into her mouth.
I rise up, my pointer fingers and thumb pulling her lower lip out, swiping up the bead of red crimson. It stains my skin, and I stick it into my mouth, curling my tongue around my finger, tasting the sweetness of her blood.
Her eyes flare, her mouth falling open, her lower lip extra pink as she watches me.
Bending down, I peel the other boot and sock off, leaving her helpless, at our mercy, standing before us, turned on and maybe a little disoriented. She turns her head toward me as I stand, and I can see the desire in her eyes. Hear the little pants that break from her chest.
I step forward until my body presses against hers. My hand wraps around her waist, grabbing a handful of her backside, my other hand going to the nape of her neck. Her long, dark hair brushes my wrist, and it feels like silk against my skin. “Behave for my friends, and maybe I’ll give you what you want afterward.”
