It’s after midnight when I finally finish up all the shit that needs doing to keep the Shadows running. Growing up, I didn’t realise how much effort it takes organising a criminal enterprise, especially one as extensive as we are. We may not be as big as the Russians, but we have fingers in all sorts of pies all across the West End of London, both legitimate and not-so-legitimate.
With a sigh, I turn off my Mac, getting up and stretching my back with an audible crack. Grabbing my phone, I head towards the short corridor that leads to my room before pausing, and then with a sigh, I switch directions and head towards my sister’s old room that Iris is staying in.
Agreeing to protect her started as a way to pay back the debt I owed for her help with Willow. She gave my sister something that I couldn’t, and no matter how that stung, my wounded pride is nothing in the face of the knowledge that Willow is safe and maybe even happy because of the woman now lying in her bed.
I should have known that it would become more than the need to fulfil my debt, especially with how I’ve kept track of her over the past months, and the moment she wrapped those perfect lips around me, I was gone. The need to protect her became more than an obligation, more than just a form of repayment. She became the light that has been missing from my life, the softness that tempers all my hard edges.
Padding on silent feet—a trick all unwanted kids learn—I silently push open the bedroom door, the sounds of heavy breathing soothing something inside my soul. The low lights are still on, highlighting the three figures curled together in the large bed, and a pang of wistfulness hits me so hard that I take in a sharp breath.
I’m happy to be in control, to lead men and women who otherwise wouldn’t have anything, but just sometimes, I wish my life could be less…pressured. I can’t remember the last time I got a full, uninterrupted night’s sleep, never mind a sleep so deep that the small sound of an opened door wouldn’t wake me.
“You okay, Hunt?” Rowan’s soft whisper floats to my ears, and I tear my gaze from the beauty in his arms, meeting his dark gaze on the other side of her. Looks like old habits die hard and the door woke him after all, which is good considering the precious thing he’s currently protecting. I nod, taking one last, lingering look, and then start to turn away.
“Please stay.” Her gentle plea stops me in my tracks, and I look back over to find myself locked in her gaze as she stares over at me. Her stare pins me in place, her eyes almost luminous in the low lights. Fuck, she’s so beautiful it hurts.
“There’s not enough room,” I tell her quietly, not wanting to wake Roman.
“You take my place and I’ll sleep on top of you,” she answers, almost as if she’d been thinking of how to solve the problem of having three large guys in her bed.
Fuck. The idea of having her weight pressing down on me all night sends a bolt of pleasure running through me. It’s not just sexual, though my dick is rapidly filling with blood. It’s the comfort of knowing that we’re all together, that she’ll spend the rest of the night in my arms, that the twins are either side of us, which has my chest warming. We’re tied together, the three of us, and have been since I met them as ten-year-olds and saw the pain of rejection that mirrored my own inside them.
We’ve been inseparable since, our relationship deepening, mine with Roman becoming something more than we ever envisaged. Though I waited until he was old enough, not wanting the fact that I was older to affect things. And for the past couple of years, we’ve drifted apart a little, which is probably my fault as I become absorbed in keeping us all safe, of keeping the gang going and thriving.
She gives Rowan a light shove, and without even a grumble, he gets out of bed. He probably already knows what I want, what I need. He’s always been the most observant of us all. My need to be close and protect, to keep them safe runs deep.
Fuck it.
My hands drift to my belt buckle, undoing the clasp and pushing my jeans to the floor. Normally I’d pick them up, but tonight I feel bone weary, the lure of being surrounded by the people I care about too much to resist or keep waiting. My T-shirt follows before I stride across the room, sliding beneath the warm covers in a matter of moments.
Every muscle in my body relaxes as the heat from their bodies seeps into mine, and I shuffle into the middle, Iris making room for me by pressing closer to Roman, who grumbles in his sleep. The bed dips on my other side as Iris moves her body on top of mine, her small weight settling on me as she lowers herself down.
My arms immediately wrap around her, my dick twitching as her thigh brushes over it. She politely ignores it, placing her cheek on my pec as an exhale leaves her body.
“Comfy?” I ask, my fingers stroking up and down her back. Roman snuggles into my side while Rowan’s arm comes over me to rest his hand on her lower back. It reminds me of the times they’d stay over when we were growing up, all of us trying to escape our shitty realities.
“So much better now you’re here,” she mumbles sleepily, her lips brushing over my skin, sending tendrils of fire racing across my body. Soon, her body grows heavier, her breaths fanning across my chest turning even as she falls asleep on me, and it’s the best fucking feeling I’ve had in a long time.
“We’re never letting her go,” Rowan states, so quiet that if I hadn’t been so awake still I would have missed it.
“She’s one of us,” I say back, skating my palm along her spine. She arches into my touch, a soft breath leaving her lips.
“And I’ll gut Sergi, Bratva or not, if he tries to take her,” Rowan vows in the dark, and I glance to the side to meet his stare.
“I’ll help you, brother,” I agree, knowing that I would start a war to keep the angel in my arms safe. I wonder if Nikolai Petrov knew that? Is that why he sent her to us?
Whatever the reason, I’m glad that she’s here, and like Rowan said, we’re not going to let her go.
IRIS
Loud banging rouses me from sleep, a furnace underneath my cheek and surrounding me as I try to surface from the dream I was having. I don’t remember much, but there’s an ache in my core that makes me think it was a pretty good dream.
“The fuck?” Hunter rumbles, his rough, just woken-up voice enough to make that ache pulse.
“I’ll get it,” Rowan says, sounding far more awake than I feel, and I crack my eyelids open to find him getting out of bed, a blast of cool air making me sink under the covers and onto Hunter’s body more.
His arms tighten around me, pulling me close, and I inhale his manly musk, loving the way it deepens his usual minty-rosemary scent. Though the sounds of feet shuffling has my ears pricking.
“What the fuck is going on?” Hunter grumbles, but he doesn’t make a move to get me off him, and blinking my eyes fully open, I turn to look up at him.
Jesus Christ on a cross. He’s fucking gorgeous all sleep-tousled, his green eyes gazing down at me like he wants to eat me for breakfast. I take in a sharp inhale when the slight thrust of his hips has his hard dick poking me in the stomach, Evangeline waking up and purring, demanding to be filled.
“Little Lamb, your stuff has arrived!” Rowan’s voice calls from the direction of the living room, and my brows furrow as I process what he’s saying.
Then a gasp falls from my lips when my brain makes the connection, and I scramble from the bed, earning an oof sound from Roman as I clamber over him in my haste.
“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” I hear Hunter shout behind me, but I’m too busy rushing through the door and down the hallway, excitement filling my veins as I enter the living room and see the mountains of parcels that are waiting for me.
I clap my hands together and a girlish squeal falls from my lips as my eyes trace over them all, a mixture of Amazon boxes, ones with Honey Birdette and Tatu Couture branding, and some colourful bags clearly from Nest. There are also some from the various clothing companies I ordered from, and call me a materialistic bitch, but heat radiates throughout my chest as I ponder which to open first.
“Your shit arrived then?” Roman asks, a chuckle in his voice as he takes in the sheer quantity. “You really went to town on the joint card, huh?”
“She did what?” Hunter growls as he stalks into the room, wearing just his boxers and looking fucking delicious, but he comes up short, his eyes wide as he scans over all the boxes and bags.
I turn back to the pile, which sits in the middle of the floor, ignoring the guys as I walk over and drop to my knees, reaching for a box marked with the Honey Birdette logo. Taking it in my hands, I pause when a knife enters my line of sight. Looking up, I find Rowan’s hand holding it out to me, his eyes sparkling.
“Thanks.” I give him a beaming smile as I take the blade and push the switch on the side. This one is the same as the knife he gave me, which is safely tucked in my bedside drawer, and I find that I like us sharing something so brutal yet beautiful.
“You spent fifteen-hundred fucking pounds on yarn?!” Hunter’s outraged voice gives me a moment of pause as I slide the knife into the tape on the top of the box.
“I don’t want to be bored, and you said I wasn’t allowed to leave, so I need a way to occupy my time,” I answer, not looking at him even as my heart thuds inside my chest. The knife makes a hushed whisper as I slide it over the tape, then pull the blade back in before setting it down next to me.
“And two grand on Amazon? What the fuck did you buy?” he questions, but I still don’t look at him, a smile tilting up my lips.
“Books,” I answer, and I bite my lower lip when he splutters. Rowan’s low laugh has my gaze flitting up to his, and he gives me a wink before I look back down at the parcel in my lap.
“Were you trying to outfit a fucking library?”
Reaching into the box, I pull aside the packaging, ignoring Hunter, and bring out a rectangular pink box.
“What have you got there, Little Lamb?” Rowan asks, his voice an octave lower than it usually is as I open the box and take out the beautiful, rose-pink wand.
“Fucking spoiled princess,” Hunter hisses behind me, and I twist, holding the wand and box out.
“Will you put this on charge for me please, Daddy?” I ask sweetly from my knees, looking up at him with wide eyes. I don’t want him to be mad about the money I spent, even if I only spent so much because he locked me up in his flat.
“What?” he asks, eyes darting from the wand to the box. I just wait, watching his pupils blow out as it dawns on him that he’s looking at a sex toy.
“This baby used to make me come harder than you’d believe, and I had to leave it behind, so I bought another one,” I tell him, my thighs squeezing together when an image of Hunt using this on me flits through my mind.
“Fuck, Princess, you went all out,” Roman groans from behind me, and I can hear that he’s rifling through the box to see what else I bought, but I keep my gaze trained on Hunter, watching him as he swallows hard. “Hunt, stop complaining and put the wand on charge, then punish her later by giving her so many orgasms she begs you to stop.”
A breath falls from my lips, the visual turning my veins to lava. Hunt’s eyes dart down to my lips, his tongue flicking out as he licks the bottom one. “I call bullshit,” he rasps, swallowing again. “You were a virgin until two days ago. I don’t believe you’ve used a sex toy in your life, Peaches.”
I tilt my head to the side, staying on my knees and still holding out the wand and box. “What do you think a bunch of teenage girls get up to locked in a dormitory together for twelve hours a night?”
“Oh shit, Princess,” Roman laments. “I fucking knew you girls pillow fight in sexy, silk nighties.”
I twist around. “Why would we need silk nighties?” He palms his face with a deep, sexy moan, and I giggle before twisting back to face Hunter. “So, are you going to put this on charge?”
His jaw flexes but he reaches out, taking the wand and box from me. “We get to use them on you first, that’s non-negotiable.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I answer sweetly, not elaborating that it won’t be him who gets to use them first on me. I think Hunter needs to learn a lesson on patience, and you know what they say, absence makes your panties grow wetter.
He gives me a heated look before stalking off and taking the cable out of the box, and I grin at my small victory.
“You’re going to drive him wild, Princess.” Roman chuckles when I turn back around, and crossing my legs, I reach for the box to see what else it contains.
The air turns heated around me the more I pull out, from some sexy lingerie to other toys and plenty of lube. I’m placing them all back into the box when the front door opens and in strides Dayton.
“Oh, shit,” he states, gazing around at the mountain of packages still unopened. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
“Nope, I just needed some essentials,” I tell him as I reach for one of the bags that I’m hoping contains some yarn I ordered. I smile when I open it, finding several packets of yarn and knitting needles.
“Damn, these are just essentials?” Dayton comments, his eyebrows raised as he walks closer, eyeing the packages.
Roman slings an arm over the younger guy’s shoulders. “You’ll come to realise, as you get older, that some women need a lot of shit to keep them happy,” he tells Dayton in a serious tone, and I laugh but don’t bother correcting him. I love stuff, always have, and I’m not ashamed to say that it makes me happy, especially when I get to buy new things. “Let’s go make some breakfast, she’s gonna be there for a while.”
Taking the yarn out, I admire the colours. A deep mottled green, an amber brown, a chocolate brown, and pitch black, all in the softest cashmere blend.
“What are you planning, Little Lamb?” Rowan whispers from in front of me, not having moved from his perch on the floor.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” I reply without missing a beat, glancing up just in time to catch the twitch of his plush lips.
I don’t think my captivity is going to be so bad after all.
