Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“TIDAL WAVE” BY CHASE ATLANTIC
LARK
Ispend the next couple of weeks with the guys coddling me until it’s almost suffocating while the weather grows cooler.
My shoulder heals enough that the stitches come out, and Tarl is pleased that there’s no numbness in the area which would hint at nerve damage.
I have a fresh scar to add to the collection, and one morning, I gaze at my body, frowning at my reflection in the mirror, looking at all the scars that decorate my skin.
“Why the sad face, Nightingale?” Jude asks as he comes up behind me, wrapping his tattooed arms around me and tucking his face against my neck.
Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and I melt into him, our bodies brushing in a dizzying wave of heat as he’s bare-chested and I’m just in some emerald-colored, lace underwear that he bought for me.
“I hate all these marks,” I confess softly, my gaze tracing the scar on my stomach from where I was stabbed there when I led the guys to Soldier HQ several weeks back.
“But they are a part of you, and all of you is beautiful, Nightingale,” Jude states simply, and I catch his gaze in the mirror, his eyes showing nothing but heat as he looks at me.
“I don’t want to constantly be reminded of all the shit that’s happened in my life, Devil Prince, and that’s all I can see when I look at them in the mirror.”
He stills, his head tilting as he considers me for a moment. We’re in my room, the stunning mural of the birds behind us. I watch as a slow smile spreads across his plush lips. “Then I will cover each one up with a tattoo,” he says, beaming, and excitement pools in my chest.
“You will?” I ask, squealing as he spins me in his arms so that the front of our bodies are pressed together.
“I’ll even let you choose some of them,” he offers, no hint of how fucking wrong that statement is, given that it’s my body, but I love him regardless.
“The girl with stardust in her hair, I want her,” I answer back, pushing away from him a little so I can look up at his handsome face. A slight blush steals over his cheeks, the sight so unusual that I pause, my hands on his bare chest. “You’re blushing, Jude!”
He gives me a boyish smile that fucking ruins my panties and sets my core quivering.
“I drew her for you, she is you,” he admits, his hand coming up to stroke down my hair, his ocean-deep eyes following the move as it trails against his fingertips.
“You are starlight, Nightingale, lighting our way in this dark, fucked up world.” His voice is barely above a breathy whisper, and my whole body tingles with the reverence in his tone.
“You are my anchors,” I whisper, his intense, passion-filled stare flitting up to mine and devouring me. “You keep me here, showing me that there’s more to this life than pain and suffering. You make me live, not just survive.”
A single tear drips down his cheek, his breath stuttering as he grabs my waist and pulls me closer, eliminating any space between us.
“Promise me you’ll never leave us, Nightingale,” he demands quietly, pulling a flip knife from his pocket and flicking it open. “And seal your oath in blood.”
I watch as he takes my hand, opening it up and then running the knife slowly across my palm.
A hiss falls from my lips when the pain registers and my heart beats wildly in my chest as he repeats the move on his own, scarred palm, crimson welling in the cut.
He flips the knife closed, putting it away, and then grasps our hands together, our blood mingling.
“Jude Taylor, I swear on all that I am, and everything that makes me, that I will never leave you and the Tailors,” I say, my tone hushed, as if the words that I am saying are too sacred to be said any louder.
“Lark Jackson, I swear on all that I am, and everything that makes me, I will never leave you. I will protect you until my final breath, and then from the world beyond this one,” Jude vows, holding my gaze the entire time.
Warmth suffuses my entire being as we just stare at each other, our words swirling around us and binding us closer than I have ever been bound to another living soul. A wide smile splits his beautiful lips and my own tug upwards, matching him.
“Come on, Nightingale, let’s make a start on your new ink,” he beams, not letting go of my hand as he drags me laughing from the room, not even allowing me to get dressed.
I’m woken up from my deep slumber by the scent of motor oil and cloves and the combination of soft lips and a scratch of stubble as someone kisses the back of my neck.
“Knox,” I moan, stretching in my sleep, then hissing as the pulse of the new ink on my back sends a wave of pain flashing through me.
“Shhh, baby.” Knox’s deep rumble vibrates over me, his hard length pressing between my bare ass cheeks as his body hovers over mine, not touching my new tattoo.
I whimper, wriggling as he slides inside me, my ass lifting to make it easier for him.
“That’s it, Little Bird, take all of Daddy like the good little girl you are. ”
Another deep groan leaves me as wetness rushes from my core at his dirty words.
The boy knows how to bring me to the edge with just a few choice phrases.
We both moan when he’s finally in me all the way, seated to the hilt.
He’s so fucking big. It’s a delicious stretch, one that, no matter how many times he’s inside me, I can’t get used to and love every fucking time.
“Fuck, yes, Daddy,” I whine, my hands clawing at the sheets underneath me as he slowly pumps in and out of me.
“And you’re Daddy’s good little girl, aren’t you?” he rumbles in my ear, and I twist my head, blinking my eyes open to see a glint of silver on the bed, the knife gripped tightly in his fist. A flash of fear makes my fingertips go numb, but we both grunt as my pussy clenches around him.
“Yes, Daddy,” I reply in a breathy whisper, and he pauses in his thrusts.
“Be a good girl and twist your arm around so the inside of your bicep is facing upwards,” he commands, his voice a deep, gentle purr.
Heart thudding, I do as he orders, the position not the most comfortable, lying on my stomach with my arm twisted so the underside is exposed.
“Such a good girl for her Daddy,” Knox coos, bringing up the hand with the knife closer and running his finger along my bicep until he finds the bump where my birth control implant is.
“And you’re going to continue to please your Daddy, aren’t you? ”
“Yes.” The word is barely more than a breath as I watch him bring the knife tip to the place he just traced with his finger. With a flick of his wrist, he makes the cut and I cry out, my body shaking as he uses the tip to pry the tiny device out, letting it fall to the bed along with the knife.
“You beautiful, good girl,” he murmurs, moving his hips once more and helping to chase the sting away by giving me blinding pleasure.
“You want me to fill up this pussy with my cum and put a baby in that belly of yours, don’t you, Little Bird?
” A deep, animal sound leaves my throat, my hands once again gripping the sheets underneath me as pleasure rolls me under.
He stops suddenly and I gasp on a sob. “Use your words, baby.”
“Yes,” I rasp, the need to have him moving again overwhelming. “I want you to fill me up over and over again until I’m pregnant with your child.”
“Good fucking girl,” he growls, pushing up on his forearms, then grabbing my hips as he yanks me to my knees, my face pressed into the mattress. “Now, take everything that Daddy gives you.”
Without pausing, he thrusts so hard into me that I scream, a small trickle of blood tickling down my arm as I grip the bedclothes in tight fists and take his harsh thrusts.
He fucks me like an animal, like he’s trying to impregnate me then and there, and I just hold on, the waves of pleasure threatening to consume me from the inside out.
I’m vaguely aware of the door being thrown open, the soft sound of padded footsteps, and the dip of the surrounding bed, but all I can really focus on is how Knox is grunting and cursing behind me as he tries to invade my womb with his dick.
“Come for him, Nightingale,” Jude’s soft voice coos, and I twist my head to see him lying next to me, his eyes on the line of blood dripping from my arm. “Come for him and then we will each take a turn until you're so full of our cum it coats your insides.”
He dips his head, his tongue coming out to lick a line up my arm over the cut just as fingers find my clit and pinch hard.
I explode.
Bucking and writhing in Knox’s harsh grip as he keeps pounding into me, his own climax dragging him under a few seconds later. My whole body lights up, my soul fucking leaving and ascending to the heavens as I come, the pleasure so intense that I can hardly breathe.
I whimper when he pulls out a few seconds later, but I’m not allowed to collapse down just yet, a firm grip replacing Knox’s as another dick, pierced this time, nudges my soaked entrance.
A whine escapes my lips when it pushes all the way in, filling me up once again as Jude continues to lick the blood that drips from my fresh cut.
“You take us like such a good little fuck toy, Dove,” Aeron’s husky growl sounds behind me, and he fucks me slowly, pulling out and then slamming back in until I’m shivering with another impending release.
It feels so fucking good, the pleasure deep in my core driving me to desperation until I don’t know if I want him to stop or keep going.
“Aeron, fuck, Aeron,” I mumble into the sheets, my fists clutching the fabric so tightly that my knuckles are white and my fingertips numb.
“Can I be inside you too, Nightingale?” Jude whispers in my ear, and my breath hitches. “Can I fuck that sweet pussy of yours with my brother?”
My body flushes hot, I love it when they take me together, something about having both of them in my pussy, feeling each other as well as me, has me clenching around Aeron who curses.
“What did you say to her, Jude?” Aeron grits out, pausing the movements of his hips.
“I told her we would fuck her together, both of us stretching her wide around our big, fat cocks,” Jude answers, encouraging me to my hands so he can wiggle underneath.
I moan at his words, his legs coming between my spread ones and his hand gripping his hard shaft so that it brushes my clit, sending a jolt of fire racing across my skin.
“And I’m guessing our dirty little bird liked that, huh?” Aeron coos, helping maneuver me so that Jude’s cock is lined up with my already full cunt.
“Yes,” I gasp as Jude pushes in alongside Aeron who hisses a breath at the stretch.
“Fuck, you take us so well, Nightingale,” Jude grits out, his hands gripping my hips as he forces his way inside me. There’s a slight burn, and a slickness to his cock that tells me Jude lubed up first so it’s not too painful, not any more than I like anyway.
“So fucking full,” I moan out, my hands moving to Jude’s pecs and digging my newly grown back nails in. Jude groans as the pain registers, blood welling in the crescent shapes as my nails break the skin.
We pause when Jude is finally seated to the hilt, sweat glistening over my skin as I hold them both inside me, relishing the feeling of being utterly filled.
Aeron pulls out, again going slow, and Jude and I both moan at the drag of his pierced cock against Jude’s.
I scream when he thrusts back in, and then they both let loose, taking turns to fuck into me as I shake and tremble between them.
It’s messy and loud and I’m in fucking heaven as they build me up so high, I know that the fall will obliterate me completely.
Noises that I would be embarrassed about if I gave a fuck, fall from my lips repeatedly, my panting breaths leaving me light-headed as waves of ecstasy wash over me with dizzying speed.
“Fuck! Yes! I’m so close…” I cry, and they go harder, their own primitive growls and grunts adding to the sounds of our furious lovemaking.
One of Jude’s hands leave my hips, coming between us to play and toy with my clit, and I’m gone, free-falling into the bliss of an orgasm so fucking strong that I can’t even remember my own fucking name.
I stiffen between them; the pleasure holding me captive as they fuck me even harder, finding their climaxes one after the other, buried deep inside my heat.
Collapsing onto Jude’s sweaty, heaving chest, Aeron slips out with a deep groan as he throws himself to my side, one arm flung over his eyes as his glistening chest heaves up and down.
I’m given no reprieve, Tarl’s spicy scent adding to the musk of sex as he hovers just above my back and glides his rock-solid length inside me alongside Jude’s rapidly hardening dick.
“I–I can’t,” I beg breathlessly, unable to move as Tarl thrusts, delicious pleasure rolling across my already spent body.
“You can and will, Koshgelam,” he replies in a hard voice that only makes my core heat more. “And why is that, Eshgham?”
My brain stutters, his question almost too much for me to comprehend, and then the answer that he’s demanding comes to me in crystal clear technicolor.
“B–because you own me,” I gasp out, still flopped on top of Jude, who holds me to him as they both move faster.
“That’s right, Eshgham. We own every fucking inch of you and we will do what we like with what belongs to us. And you will take it like the good little slave you are, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathe out, the room spinning as I’m once again facing a drop that I know I won’t survive, but I don’t care. I would die over and over for these guys, knowing that they will always bring me back up to the land of the living, if only to destroy me again.
“Good girl,” he purrs. “Now, come for us, Aziz-e delam, and show your masters your obedience.”
His words are my undoing, and I scream as another soul-destroying orgasm rushes over me, leaving every inch of me touched by its electric tingle. I’m lost in my pleasure, only vaguely aware of Tarl and then Jude roaring out their own releases, filling me up once more with their hot cum.
I can’t moan when they pull out, or open my eyes as I’m lifted into a hot shower sometime later, hands washing me and then drying me with the fluffiest of towels.
Afterwards, I drift into a deep, contented sleep surrounded by my men, my masters, safe in the knowledge that I just needed to be owned to truly be free.