Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
She sobs out each exhale. I finally give into the temptation to look at her, and fuuuuuuck. Her whole body is flushed and she’s writhing under Beast’s touch. She’s so wet, I can hear every time he thrusts his fingers deep. He could have taken her over the edge, but he’s building her up to one hell of an orgasm, a single stroke at a time.
She turns wide dark eyes on me. Her lipstick got smeared a little somewhere along the way, and the imperfection just makes me want her more. “Please.”
I should withdraw, should maintain the distance Beast has established. The better to play this game out. I can’t. I never did have a damn bit of sense where this woman was concerned.
I cup her jaw and kiss her. The second my tongue strokes along hers, Beast stops playing around and picks up his pace. I jump when he braces a hand on my thigh and lift my head enough to look at him.
He’s leaning over us, his expression intense. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t even pause to consider disobeying. I simply turn back to take Isabelle’s mouth again. Kissing her after all this time feels like crashing through a hard shell I spent so long building up from the ruins of my heart. Melodramatic? Fuck yes. But it’s the truth.
I never stopped wanting her.
I never stopped loving her, either.
She comes with a cry I drink down, and even as it feels so damn good to be this close to her again, I can’t shake the feeling that making this pact is a mistake I’ll never recover from.
Chapter 8
Isabelle
It feels like I take one long blink and we’re in the shower. It’s not a particularly large shower, though it is a walk-in, and with Gaeton’s broad shoulders taking up space, it feels small. Even so, neither of the men even brings up the option of us taking turns. I’m not complaining. After the events of the last few hours, I don’t think my legs can hold me. That weakness is something that will bother me. Tomorrow. Tonight, I don’t have the capacity to do more than lean against Gaeton’s chest and watch Beast soaping up.
Gaeton keeps me on my feet with an arm around my waist, and I let myself sink into that touch a little. My whole chest aches from wanting him—from wanting them both—but I know better than to say as much.
If tonight has proven anything, it’s that I don’t know these men nearly as well as I thought I did.
“You’re thinking awfully hard over there, princess.” Beast steps beneath the spray of water to rinse off and then moves out of the way. “Give her here.”
Gaeton squeezes me a little and then passes me over. Once again, I feel like a living doll with no will of my own. I frown up at them. “I am more than capable of standing on my own.”
“No, you’re not.” Beast turns me and takes a position identical to the one Gaeton had, his arm around my waist, his chest to my back. He’s only a few inches taller than me, so he rests his chin on my shoulder easily. “You’re shaking, and if left to your own devices, you’d be a sobbing puddle on the floor.”
I try to jerk away, but he easily holds me captive. “I would not.”
“Yes, you would.” Gaeton ducks under the spray and, when he comes up, he shakes his head like a dog. “The effects of a scene don’t end when the scene does.”
I cross my arms over my chest, and then feel foolish for doing even that much while we’re all standing naked in this enclosed space. “I’m fine.”
Gaeton gives me a long look. “The truth, Isabelle.”
Damn him. I lift my chin and try not to notice how my body shakes. “I am scared and uncertain and feel entirely unmoored. I’m also pissed as hell that you pulled that stunt in the bedroom with each other to punish me.”
“Better,” Beast murmurs. He steps back, pulling me with him. “Why don’t you go change the sheets and I’ll finish up here?”
Gaeton nods and he trails his fingers along my stomach as he passes us out of the shower, leaving sparks in his wake. We listen to him walk out of the bathroom and then Beast moves me a bit away from him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I can do it myself.”
He shoots me a look that stops me from reaching for the soap. “If I want you to do it yourself, I’ll tell you to do it yourself. Now stand still.”
I obey. Partly because I promised to. Partly because something in me that’s been buried deep responds to the snap in his voice. It wants me to fall to my knees and wait for his next command. I shove it away. This arrangement is required for their agreement to return to the territory. That’s it. Yes, I crave rough sex and, yes, I’m weirdly turned on by Beast’s harsh words and carelessness with me, but that doesn’t mean I want to submit to either of these men outside the bedroom.