Chapter 40
Ophelia
Roman went to spend some time alone in the altar room after he received the news from Vani’s dad.
The others cleared out, and I felt badly asking them to go, especially when Vani had been the one to sort things out for us, but Roman needed time to process, maybe even grieve. Not for his uncle, but for the loving, kind family he never had.
He’s back with us now, and I can see that he’s got something itching under his skin. I don’t know if it’s anger, sadness, or what. He has the look he gets when he wants to start using the ropes on his back.
I hope he doesn’t say he needs a walk and go do just that. I don’t want him to hurt himself.
“When did the others leave?” he asks.
“They left a while back,” Cain answers from the couch before I can. We’ve been chilling in the living area after the others left. “We thought you’d need some time alone. Or at least without a load of people here.”
Roman looks at us, and there’s an odd fire in his eyes. “I don’t know. I kind of feel like celebrating.”
A gurgle of laughter bursts from my throat. I’d been worrying that his angsty appearance meant he wanted to kill someone else, or hurt himself, but he’s full of energy because he wants to celebrate? That I can handle.
“It sure seems like we have reason for it.” I shrug. “Your uncle is gone. He can’t hurt anyone else again. I’ve not heard the Prophet since I killed him, and the institute is burned to the ground. All the patients are free, too.”
“Yeah, and so are we.” A grin splits Roman’s face. “I thought I’d feel … something different, and maybe that will come later, but right now there’s just so much fucking relief.”
“I can call them all back.” Cain waves his phone in the air.
Roman shakes his head. “Why don’t we invite them for a party here, when Vani’s dad gets back? We have paid the bikers, but there’s no reason we can’t put a bit of a party on for them before they leave. Thank them.”
Roman’s words make my heart sing because there’s something I want to talk to my men about, and I’m not sure how they’ll take it.
“I’m up for that, I suppose.” Mal’s tone is grumbling, but he sighs and adds, “We might as well make sure there’s no more hard feelings with the others. Moving forward, it might be best if we’re not always wanting to kill each other. Even though I do still want to murder Saint with my bare hands.”
“We girls have been talking,” I blurt. “We’re friends, all of us.
And me, Mack, and Vani, we’re in the unique position of all being in the same kind of relationship.
We want to be able to be close, to spend time together.
I-I-I’ve never really had friends.” I swallow at the tears threatening.
I won’t let them come now. “Apart from Daisy, and, well … So, I’d really like to grow a friendship with the other girls.
They feel the same, and that means we need all of you, our men, to be adult about things.
We want the feuds to stop. We want you to be friends, too. ”
I note Cain’s expression tightening, so I hold up my hand.
“I’m not asking you to be besties with them, but I am asking you to try to be civil and maybe get to know them a bit better.
Mack called me Aunty Ophelia to their daughter, Lucy, and I loved it.
I want those kinds of relationships because I’ve never had it, and we ladies agree that male ego and pride shouldn’t get in the way of our happiness. ”
For a moment, there’s nothing but silence.
“Male ego?” Cain raises a brow.
“Pride?” Malachi says.
“You ladies agree, do you?” Roman adds.
There’s an air of menace to their words, and I falter, but then hold my ground because, damn it, this is important to me. “Yes. We agree. All of us, Camile included. It’s what we want.”
My three men look to each other, and something passes between them that I don’t understand.
“What’s it worth?” Cain asks.
I blink. “What?”
“Yeah, exactly,” Mal teases. “What. Is. It. Worth?”
I catch on suddenly, and my stomach flips. “What do you want?”
“To make you a cum covered mess.” Mal’s stare is so dark and intense, it sends shivers through me.
“An aching, begging, cum covered mess.” Cain smirks.
“I like the begging part,” Roman says. “I like that a lot. I guess I can be friends with those assholes, if you ask us very, very nicely.”
I know my own worth now, and that when I ask something of my men, they’ll move heaven and earth to give it to me.
I also know, though, that they like me on my knees for them.
When it comes to this, they like to be in charge, and I like it that way, too.
They dominate, and I submit. It doesn’t mean that must be the case in the rest of our relationship, but when it comes to sex, it works.
“What if I kneel for you, and you all use my mouth?” The idea gets me so hot, I want to touch myself, but I don’t.
“At the same time? We’d break your jaw.” Cain snorts.
“We could just keep taking turns to shove our dicks down her throat until we come, and she has to swallow it all. Or … we paint her face with it.” Roman grins.
“I suppose that would work,” Mal says with a slow nod.
I cup my breasts through my thin top, brushing my already hard nipples with my thumbs, and Cain wags his finger.
“Ah, ah, no getting yourself off until we’re satisfied.”
“I love you on your knees.” Roman stands and walks to me. “So, I accept your terms.”
I grin, but he gestures at the floor. “Down you go, Ophelia.”
Face flushing, I sink to my knees in front of him.
“Christ, you do that so beautifully,” he growls.
They form a semicircle around me, crowding me. Three big men—huge, in Cain’s case—and me on my knees for them, petite, slight. It’s scary, but it’s thrilling. Oh-so-thrilling.
The sound of their zippers seems overly loud in the room, and they take their hard cocks out as I marvel at each of them. Roman’s is already wet at the tip, and he runs his thumb over the head and shivers.
Cain taps my cheek with his, the bold bastard. “Open wide, Angel.”
I do as he says, and he runs his cockhead over my open lips. I dart my tongue out to lick him.
He grits his teeth. “That’s it, fucking lick it, like it’s a lollipop.”
Doing as he says, my tongue sweeping along the length of him, I can’t help but notice the way Mal and Roman stare at me with ravenous gazes. They’re both slowly fisting their cocks.
“I want a turn,” Mal says.
He shoulders Cain out of the way. Cain grunts in protest but just works his own dick as Mal pushes his into my mouth.
He doesn’t go any farther, just rests the head of himself in my open mouth. “Make it feel good, baby.”
I do my best, laving my tongue over him and around him. I let myself explore the slit, and, when I push my tongue in a little, Mal hisses and salty pre-cum bathes the tip of my tongue.
“Jesus, I need a go.” Roman does to Mal what he’d done to Cain.
It’s almost as if they’re moments away from fighting over me, and that shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. I know they won’t really fight over me, but the amount of testosterone in the air is heady.
Roman doesn’t push his dick in the way Mal did. Instead, he runs the end of his cock over my lips, painting them with pre-cum. He does this over and over, rubbing himself and pushing more out, until my lips are soaked.
“I like that lip gloss on you,” he says. “Might have to do this every morning you have a class, so you have to wear me on your mouth all day.”
I moan and trail a hand between my legs to touch myself.
“No, you don’t.” Roman shakes his head. “You have to make two of us come first. Then you can finish yourself off while you work at making the third come.”
I whimper but stop from touching myself. I’m so aching and wet, I know my panties will be soaked.
“Angel, you’ll be the death of us,” Cain says.
Mal smirks. “But what a way to go.”
I smile around yet more cock as Roman slowly pushes his way inside.