Chapter 50
Soren
A s I take a step back, I can’t help but admire the stunning sight before me. Gail, our beautiful Gail, looks so fucking stunning with her hands cuffed behind her back, the necklace we gave her resting against her creamy skin, and her growing belly. The room is dimly lit, casting a sensual glow on her flushed skin, and the black silk of her blindfold Mickey’s sliding over her eyes to replace his hand adds an air of mystery to her innocent demeanor.
“Such a good whore,” I praise her, my voice low and guttural. I run a finger down her spine, reveling in the goosebumps that erupt in its wake.
The sound of her breath, shallow and quickening, fills the room—a subtle symphony to my arousal. I can’t help but grin, feeling my excitement build as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a murmur of protest escaping her lips. The restraint in her voice tells me everything; she doesn’t really want us to stop.
“Wh-why are you guys here?” Gail’s question is laced with confusion, barely audible over the pounding of my heart in my ears.
Mickey chuckles, his breath warm on her neck. “You ask too many questions, sweetheart.”
“Answer me,” she demands, her voice stronger now but still betraying the thrum of curiosity beneath her defiance.
“Maybe we’ll answer you if you answer us first,” I say, locking eyes with Mickey over Gail’s bound form. There’s a silent agreement between us, she doesn’t get answers until she tells us the truth.
“Are you going to play nice for us, Gail?” I lean closer, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, and I feel her shiver in response.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, the anticipation, the need, almost palpable in the confined space. It’s a delicious moment, one where every second stretches out indefinitely, filled with promise and desire. And in that moment, I know. I know she craves this as much as we do, the surrender, the unraveling of control. The game’s just begun, and already, I can tell it’s going to be one hell of a ride.
“Fine,” she finally surrenders, her voice a soft whisper in the stillness. “What do you want to know?”
Mickey and I exchange a triumphant look. We’ve won the first round, but we both know there’s a long way to go. “Tell us, Gail,” Mickey purrs, his hands still gently squeezing her nipples, “how do you really feel about us?”
She tenses, as if she hadn’t expected that particular question. But then, the truth is, Gail’s always been terrible at hiding her emotions. She’s a goddamn open book, and it’s one of the reasons we’re so drawn to her. “I…I…” she stammers, and I see the moment the realization hits her.
I push Gail’s body down onto the plush rug, my hands firm on her shoulders, anchoring her to the spot. Mickey’s behind her, his silver eyes glinting with mischief as he watches me assert our claim.
“Tell us you love us, Gail,” I demand, and there’s a tremor in my voice that mirrors the quake in my chest. It’s not just about control; it’s about the raw, desperate need to hear the words that’ll shatter the last barrier between us.
“You two are insane,” she breathes out, but there’s no real bite to her words, just a smoky undertone that tells me she’s caught in the same tempest we are.
“Insanely in love with you,” Mickey murmurs, sitting down behind her, his lips hovering just above the curve of her neck.
I crouch down in front of her. “Admit it, baby. You want this… us.” My fingers graze the necklace we gave her, the metal cool against her heated skin. The symbol of our connection, our possession, our promise of forever—if only she’d let it be.
“Want doesn’t mean love,” she counters weakly, but the arch of her back betrays her, pressing into Mickey’s touch like a flower seeking sunlight. She’s blooming under our care, and damn if it isn’t the most beautiful sight.
“Doesn’t it?” Mickey’s voice is a husky whisper, his hands now cupping her breasts through her clothes, thumbs circling her peaked nipples. Her moan is soft, involuntary, music to our ears. “Every sigh, every whimper, every time you come undone beneath us—it speaks of love, sweetheart.”
“Stop playing games,” she demands, even as she throws her head back, resting it on Mickey’s shoulder and pushing her tits harder against his hands.
“Isn’t life just a series of games, Gail?” I retort, my hand sliding down her belly, feeling the slight rounding. A thrill runs through me, possessive and fierce. “And the stakes here, they’re high. But oh, the rewards…”
“Say it, Gail,” Mickey urges, his mouth finally descending to claim the tender skin of her neck, teeth grazing lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue. “Say you love us, and we’ll give you everything—every fantasy, every pleasure, every dark desire you’re too scared to admit. The life you want.”
She squirms, caught between our bodies, our wills. “Fuck,” she whispers, and there’s a crack in her armor, a sliver of light that beckons us to break through.
“Exactly,” I say, leaning in to capture her lips with mine, a promise and a plea all rolled into one. “Now tell us, Gail. Tell us what we already know.”
Her breath hitches, and I can feel the surrender trembling on the edge of her lips. We hover there, in the space between confession and denial, waiting for the words that might just change everything.
“Tell us,” Mickey growls against her skin, a gentle bite following the command, and I know she’s close, so damn close to spilling the truth we’ve known since she left, but were too blinded to see while we still had her.
“Tell us,” I echo, my voice rough with the weight of my own longing, my own need to hear her say it.
I change my position from crouching to kneeling, reaching for her boots. My fingers curl around the zipper, tugging it down. “Let’s get you more comfortable, whore,” I murmur, keeping my voice low, laced with the kind of authority that makes her shiver.
Mickey’s hands skim over her thighs as I peel first one boot and then the other away. Next, her tights follow, the thin fabric no match for my eagerness to reveal the soft skin beneath.
Her dress—a delicate thing—is next. I unwrap her like she’s a gift, which isn’t far from the truth. She’s ours, even if she hasn’t admitted it yet. Since her hands are still gathered around her back, I can’t pull it all the way off.
“Beautiful,” I breathe, admiration genuine. “Isn’t she, Mick?”
“Fuckin’ masterpiece,” he agrees, his hands on her tits.
“Guys… please,” Gail whimpers, her body arching toward Mickey’s touch, toward my gaze that devours every inch of her. Her desperation is a tangible thing, a sweet scent filling the air between us.
“Please, what, sweetheart?” Mickey’s voice is a tease.
“Tell us what you want, Gail,” I press, knowing full well the power we wield over her senses. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath a silent concession to the desire coursing through her veins.
“I want to see you.”
The look Mick shoots me makes it clear he wants to give in, to give her exactly what she wants. But why should we when she’s leaving us hanging, not opening up like we’ve done to her?
Fuck me!
I know relationships aren’t about tit for tat, and I know… well, it doesn’t fucking matter. Reaching for the blindfold, I gently remove it from her eyes. I patiently wait while she blinks, adjusting her eyes.
“Thank you,” she rasps, licking her lips.
While Mickey unlocks the handcuffs, I cup her chin and angle her face toward mine. Then I claim her lips in a bruising, needy kiss—one where I try to convey how much I need to hear her say those words back to me.
Pulling back, I take her hand and pull her back to her feet. My breath jagged as I watch her chest rise and fall rapidly, the delicate lace of her bra barely containing the swell of her breasts. Mickey’s hands are still on her, his touch reverent and possessive all at once.
“Say it,” I command, the words a growl torn from some primal part of me. “Please tell us you’re ours, Gail. For more than today, for more than one night.”
Her blue eyes flicker, a storm brewing in their depths. She’s always been a spitfire, but now she’s pure wildfire, burning with an intensity that could either save or destroy us.
“I need to hear it now, Gail. Need to know you’re in this as deep as we are.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she retorts, sass lacing her tone.
“Words, Gail. Give us the damn words,” I demand, my hand finds the base of her throat, feeling the rapid thrum of her pulse beneath my palm.
Mickey leans in, his mouth against her ear, whispering dark promises that draw a sharp gasp from her lips. “You gonna make us beg, sweetheart? Because we will. We’ll fucking drop to our knees and beg until you finally admit it if that’s what it takes.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” Gail counters, her voice trembling.
“Both,” Mickey and I say in unison, our dual declaration a testament to the bond we share, the one we’re forging with her, stronger than steel and more precious than diamonds.
“Dammit,” she curses softly. “Yes, I… I…”
As I watch her fight what we all know to be the truth, I’m hit so hard with realization my breath saws out of me. This is wrong, all fucking wrong. We shouldn’t force her to say it. “Stop,” I say urgently, letting go of her throat and scrambling back so I can admire just how fucking beautiful she is. “You’ll say it when you’re ready.”
The look she shoots me is pure gratitude, and it’s so potent I swear my knees almost give out. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“Do you want to get dressed again? Or?” Mickey asks, his expression serious. He grabs her hips and spins her around to face him. “We can talk, if you want.”
Gail shakes her head, but backs up so she can sit down on the bed, delicately crossing one leg over the other. “Tell me why you’re here,” she demands, her voice steady.
Feeling like I need to do more to show her I’m willing to wait, willing to do whatever she needs from me, I sit down on the floor, crossing my legs as I look up at her. Mickey follows my lead, sitting down next to me. Gail’s lips twist in wry amusement as she straightens her back, sitting taller.
“This is our house,” Mickey begins to explain. “We bought it together a few years ago. But since we never used it, we rented it out until—”
I can’t wait for Mickey to go through all the unnecessary details, so I interrupt him. “Lucia told us what kind of house you wanted, and we thought this one fit perfectly. We bought out the renters and paid to have it redecorated with new everything.”
“You did what?” she gasps, her jaw becoming slack.
Mickey shrugs. “We’d already talked about how perfect this place would be, so we were going to suggest it in July when their contract ran out.”
I chuckle. “All you did was to move up the timeline, baby.”
She sniffs and averts her gaze to the floor, her shoulders shaking. What the hell? We made her cry, but… why? We did a good thing. This is what Lucia said Gail wanted and needed.
“What did we do wrong?” I ask, panic coating my words. “If you don’t like it, we can go look at Mickey’s house. Or, you can live in mine. Or if you want, we can—”
I’m interrupted by Mickey’s palm connecting with the back of my head. “Shut up,” he laughs. “Just shut the hell up and give her a moment to adjust to all of this.”
Right, right, that sounds sensible.
When Gail raises her head, it’s not anger or disappointment shining through her eyes, it’s adoration and—dare I even think it—love. “You did all of this for me?” She cradles her naked stomach. “For Fet.”
“For our family,” I confirm with a sharp nod.
“For all of us,” Mickey adds.
Gail inhales deeply, and I don’t know if she’s aware she’s rubbing her stomach while she thinks about everything we’ve just said, but I am. The movement of her hand is hypnotizing, soothing—or at least it would be if I didn’t have this pit in the bottom of my stomach.
Feeling like I need to do something, I shift and move closer to her. Then, instead of sitting back down, I kneel in front of her, splaying my hands on her thighs. “Please, baby,” I croak, not caring one bit that I’m about to lay myself even more bare for her. “I know I’ve been a dick, that I’ve hurt you and let you down. But you have to know how much I love you.”
Lifting her hand, she cups my cheek. “I know you do,” she says softly. “And I know you’re sorry. I don’t need…” Trailing off, she looks over my shoulder at Mickey. “Come here.”
He’s quick to join us, pressing a kiss to her thigh as he sits next to where I’m kneeling for her. “I’m here,” he rasps. “I’m always here for you.”
Nodding, she uses her other hand to cup his cheek. “I’m… I thought I was… but I’m not ready to say it back,” she admits, her voice trembling. “But I’m willing to move in here. To try. Is that enough?”
“Yes!” we both exclaim in unison.
Gail slowly slides off the bed, joining us on the floor, and then she wraps us both in a tight hug. Her body shakes against ours, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s crying again. I rub my hand across her back. “Shh, it’s going to be okay.”
“I’ve missed you so much,” she sobs. “I… I don’t ever want to be without you again. Either of you. Do you understand? This is it for me—you’re it for me.”
My throat burns as I listen to her words, and my heart beats faster at the same time. She might not be able to say “I love you” yet, but if this isn’t the same thing, I’m not Soren “The Wall” Taylor.
“I love you so much, baby,” I rasp, taking her face between my hands before descending my lips onto hers in a deep, slow kiss.
“My turn,” Mickey says, pushing me aside so he can rest his forehead against hers. “You’re it for us as well, sweetheart.”