Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
HANNAH
These fucking men.
I roll off Rowan, hissing out a breath when the plug in my ass shifts with my movement.
Sweet baby Jesus, it feels huge.
Once I have my bearings and I’m almost certain it’s not going to fall out, I locate the sweater Rowan stripped from my body in the middle of the night and tug it on, all while his intense gaze follows my every move.
Rowan’s bare chest is on display, and I allow myself a moment of weakness to take him in.
I’d be lying if I said I never crushed on him, because I did.
How could I not?
When your stepfather looks the way Rowan does, it would take a saint not to appreciate him. But it was wrong. It’s still wrong.
If my family found out what I’ve done, they’d lose their minds.
Thank God Asher always had a reason not to meet him, even if at the time I was annoyed.
“Are you going to get up?” I huff.
Rowan chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a rare smile. “Someone made me come in my boxers, so I need to clean up.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks, the memory of his cock twitching against my pussy all too fresh. If I’m honest, it was one of the hottest moments of my life.
“Careful, Hannah. I think that pretty ass of yours needs a spanking for making me lose control.”
A shiver of need vibrates through me, the plug only heightening the ache.
How the fuck am I meant to stand my ground when my body is already so addicted to their pretty promises?
Before I can do something stupid like allow him to make good on that threat, I turn on my heel and head back to the room they put me in last night.
But as soon as I step through the doorway, I remember that I dropped my bag when Rowan caught me trying to leave.
Shit.
I press my eyes closed and drag in a steadying breath.
How the hell did I get here? A few months ago, I was content in my own little world, not letting anyone get too close, not allowing people into my heart because I knew better.
Now here I am in a clusterfuck I don’t know how to escape.
I groan, dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling. I’ll need to find my phone so I can figure out where the hell I am, and then I can make a plan.
All I know is that I can’t stay here.
Walking down the steps with a plug in my ass is an experience I’d rather not repeat any time soon.
I should have removed the damn thing, but the submissive part of me knows better than to do that without permission.
It’s not until I reach the bottom step that I notice my bag on the couch, definitely not where I dropped it, but that was probably by design.
I won’t try to leave without it, and I won’t be able to grab it without being noticed.
Asher moves around the kitchen with ease, his tattooed chest bare and on display. He may have retired from professional sports almost a year ago, but I’d still argue he’d beat the shit out of anyone he got in a ring with even now.
“See something you like, Hannah?” Asher’s amused voice startles me out of my thoughts, and when I meet his gaze, I find him smirking over his shoulder at me.
Asshole.
“You know you’re hot. You don’t need me to stroke your ego.” I roll my eyes and move toward my bag on the couch. Maybe I can slip out while he’s distracted with breakfast.
With a plug in your ass and no pants on? I ask myself.
Okay, maybe I won’t be doing that.
“You and I both know that’s not what I want you to stroke, Little Doe.”
I open my mouth to respond, but quickly snap it shut again. It’s unfair how often he renders me speechless.
He glances down at whatever he has cooking on the stove before stalking toward me. His long strides eat up the distance before I can consider backing away, and the next thing I know, I’m crushed against his hard chest.
Fuck. I never knew something as simple as a hug could feel like this until Asher and I started dating. It’s like he’s siphoning the stress with nothing more than his arms around me and his chin resting on the top of my head.
One of his hands strays to my ass, and my body clenches involuntarily.
“None of that, Hannah,” he murmurs as his fingers brush over the plug before a pleased sound escapes his throat. “Such a good girl.”
A shiver of desire spreads through my body despite the orgasm I had twenty minutes ago. Something tells me if I were able to stay with Rowan and Asher, I would spend all my time horny and desperate.
He tugs at the plug, dragging my mind back to the present and a strangled groan from my throat. “You’re going to wear this for a few hours.”
“Asher,” I groan. Having a plug in my ass is really going to foil my escape plans.
He leans back, staring down at me with a raised brow. “For right now, this is your punishment for trying to run from us last night, but if you want, I can always add to it?”
My breath stutters in my chest.
“That’s what I thought.” He chuckles, dropping a kiss to the tip of my nose.
That’s the thing about Asher as a Dom. He swaps between hard and soft so easily that it’s hard to believe it’s the same person, and from the glimpses I’ve had of Rowan, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“Fuck,” a rough voice comes from behind me.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, with a perfect view of my plugged ass.
Fantastic.
“Our pretty little doe,” Asher murmurs a moment before a hard body presses to my back.
“So fucking perfect,” Rowan adds.
The praise sends a refreshed spark of need to my core, and I curse my body for being so wildly affected by their words.
Asher pulls away first, walking back to the kitchen where he flips what appears to be bacon, while Rowan remains behind me, my back pressed to his front.
“Where do you want to work today? Asher tells me you like to move around, so I cleared off some space under the window for your primary setup, and then I thought maybe the kitchen counter and the library could serve as extra places? I ordered a couple of standing desks for you. They should be delivered tomorrow, or I can call the delivery company and see if I can pay them extra to have them here this afternoon?”
I swallow around the emotions that climb up the back of my throat.
Why do they have to be so thoughtful when I’m actively trying to figure out a way out of this house?
“I don’t need standing desks,” I argue weakly.
“Asher says that’s how you prefer to work, and so that’s what I’m going to provide you with,” Rowan says, his voice leaving little room for argument.
I bite down on my bottom lip, considering how to tell him I don’t need those things because I’m not staying here.
Asher glances over his shoulder at us, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “She’s about to give you a list of reasons she doesn’t need them, including because she doesn’t think she’s staying.”
“Is that right, Hannah?”
I swallow heavily and nod my head once. I guess being direct is one way to go about this whole thing.
A rough chuckle brushes across my shoulder as Rowan steps closer, his body enveloping mine with his much larger frame.
“Do you really think that I’ve spent the last five years rearranging my life and business to ensure your safety, just to allow you to walk out the door?”
His words are soft, but their meaning isn’t.
If I’m not allowed to leave, does that mean I’m being held captive by my stepfather and stepbrother?