23. Roman
ROMAN
I’ve changed and showered, relieved to wash the blood from my skin. Cain called his friend and was told there are clothes we can wear in the guest bedrooms. Apparently, the locked door at the end of the top floor corridor is the owner’s private suite, and all the other bedrooms are for guests.
I knew Ophelia was taking a bath, so I chose another room with an adjoining bath to take a shower.
I rub my hair dry as I look around, taking in the luxury of the room. Everything about this space screams wealth―from the thick carpet my toes are sinking into, to the huge bed, and the abstract art on the walls.
I grab myself some loose sweats from one of the drawers, and a t-shirt, and pull them on.
The clothes are new and clearly placed there for guests because the tags are still attached, and they come in a variety of sizes.
One drawer is full of men’s stuff, and another contains women’s clothes.
All of it is kind of plain, but good quality.
Thick cotton abounds, and there’s even some cashmere.
Everything screams of a man with money and power, and I’d like to know more about this guy.
Walking to bed, I run my hands over the dark gray sheet .
Silk. Real silk, a little rough against the fingers, not that fake, overly smooth stuff you get that’s a lot cheaper.
Silk sheets, thick carpeting, a bed that looks like it was custom-made, it’s that fucking big, and this is only a guest room. Nice.
Running a back-alley fight club must pay well, unless Cain’s friend does something else, too, which I suspect he does.
As I stare at the bed, I picture all of us in it. It’s damn well big enough. Will that ever happen again? The three of us and Ophelia? I want it to, but I’ve probably ruined it with what I did to that man.
I think of touching him, of holding his dick, and the oily, sticky way it made me feel.
Shame. That’s what coats me whenever I think of the past. I don’t know why I feel that way.
I understand what happened when I was a child wasn’t my fault, but understanding and feeling are two very different things.
Ever since being in the room with that fucker, and holding his disgusting dick, the shame has covered me anew.
I scrubbed myself in the shower, but I couldn’t get it off. Couldn’t get free of it.
I need Ophelia. I need to hold her and breathe in her scent, and oh, gods, I want to sink into her. She’s the only thing that can wash this away, but I’ve scared her, and I don’t know if she’ll ever desire me again.
How will she even be able to look at me without thinking of that moment?
Sighing, I throw the towel down over the back of a large, soft chair that faces at an angle toward the window and the views of the woods beyond.
Padding out of the room, I go to look for the others.
Cain said the fridge is fully stocked, and there’s plenty of alcohol, too.
The fact there’s a safe full of weapons is reassuring.
His friend certainly hasn’t scrimped on anything for his guests.
I’m heading toward the living area to find Cain and Mal when I hear a distant giggle. I turn and walk down the hallway, following the sound, my bare feet cool against the wood floors. I pause, cocking my head to listen, and there it is again. That’s definitely a woman laughing.
The door to my right is slightly ajar, so I push it open and stare. I’m not staring at Mal and Ophelia, who are kissing up a storm, but at the room itself.
“Is this a recording studio?” I ask idiotically.
Mal breaks off from kissing Ophelia, and they both look my way. Their cheeks are flushed, hair ruffled, but there are smiles on both their lips, and that’s what matters.
“Sure is,” Mal replies. “This guy has a fuck-ton of money.”
“Doesn’t he?” My desire to know more burns deep. I find it hard to trust people, and especially hard to trust men with this kind of money and power.
“Is he a pop star, do you think?”
Ophelia looks at me as she speaks, and she’s smiling, but I can see that tiny bit of distance still in her gaze, and I know the smile is because of Malachi, not me.
I don’t want that hesitation there. I want to erase it and feel the closeness we shared the night I gave her my virginity. That night when, in return, she gave me everything.
Cain’s deep voice comes from behind me.
“He’s definitely not a pop star.”
I step deeper into the room, so he can, too.
He glances at Mal and Ophelia and grins. “Don’t you two look cozy?”
“Ophelia, are you sure you should be….” I trail off, gesturing ineffectively at her and Mal, not able to put my worries about her kissing and touching any of us right now into words. I hate it when I get like this. I second guess myself, and I find it hard to put my thoughts into coherent words.
She stands from Mal and walks to me.
“Roman, you scared me, I won’t lie, but you also saved me. I’m okay and, in large part, that’s thanks to you. And yes, I’m sure. I needed some time to myself, but now I’ve had space to think, I don’t want that man’s touch to linger as the last thing on my skin.”
She shocks me when she takes my hand and lifts her top, placing my palm on her bare stomach.
“Wipe away his touch,” she whispers. Her gaze moves from me, to Cain, and back to Mal. “All of you.”
She doesn’t need to ask twice. The atmosphere in the room morphs from tenderness and concern to something animalistic. Cain stalks over to us and stands behind her, his huge palms coming around to gently cup her breasts.
He bends down and kisses her ear. “If you need a breather or want this to stop, just say.”
“Do I need my safeword?” she asks.
Cain makes a low rumbling sound of dissent and kisses the side of her throat. “No, baby, just say stop . Today, all you need is stop , and it all ends.”
He looks at me, our gazes colliding over the top of Ophelia. His eyes are storms of need and pain. He’s feeling the same emotions as I am, I do believe.
“Why don’t you let us show you how gentle we can be?” He peppers another kiss against her neck. “Let us worship you, Angel.”
Her head drops back, her eyes fluttering closed. “God, yes, please.”
The please comes out on a desperate moan and it goes straight to my cock.
“The bed upstairs in the second guest room is massive, and it has pure silk sheets,” I inform them.
“Then, what are we waiting for?” Cain swoops Ophelia up, tossing her over his shoulder, making her laugh. Her chuckles turn into a surprised little yelp when he brings his free hand down on her ass.
“No fair,” she protests, “you said gentle.”
“Couldn’t resist, but I’ll be good from now on, I promise, Angel.”
He carries her upstairs, Mal and me following hot on his heels. When he reaches the guest bedrooms, I direct him to the one I showered in, and he kicks the door wide open. He marches over to the bed but doesn’t place Ophelia on it. Instead, he puts her on her feet right by it.
“Stay perfectly still, Angel, while we help you get out of these clothes.”
The three of us make fast work of getting the t-shirt over her head and the shorts pulled down. She’s not wearing underwear and, when I see her pussy, I groan. Gods, this beautiful woman. She’ll be the death of me, of all of us.
Cain lifts her again and places her on the dark gray sheets in the center of the bed, with her head at the base and her feet resting on the pillow. She’s on her back, naked, all pale skin and ash blonde hair. She really does look angelic displayed against the dark silk.
I want to worship her and claim every single inch of her. The three of us don’t move, though, all of us seemingly happy enjoying the view.
She squirms a little on the bed. “Umm… guys,” she moans.
“Touch yourself,” Mal says, his voice harsh. “Show us, baby, how you do that.”
Her face tightens. “It makes him speak when I do that.”
I don’t have to ask who she means. I know it’s that fucking prophet she’s referring to.
“He isn’t here anymore,” I say sternly. “We made him go away, Ophelia, and now you’re back with us, and he’s gone.
There’s no place for him here. Do you understand?
Here, in this room, you are ours and, if you do as we say, he’ll stay away.
So touch yourself, baby, and you’ll see.
Spread those legs and show us how you play with your pussy when you’re alone. ”
She swallows hard but spreads her legs as I walk around the bed, watching. Her inner lips are glistening and an enticing shade of pink. They stand out against her pale skin, snagging my attention and making my mouth water.
Slowly, with nervous glances between us, she trails her delicate fingers down her stomach and over her mound to stroke her clit.
“Oh,” she breathes.
Just that one word, but it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. Gently, she rubs her fingers over her clit, sometimes moving them either side of it, trapping it between them as she presses carefully and then rubbing over it again, around, over, and back to trapping it.
I’m fucking fascinated. Is this how she touches herself all alone in her bed at night? It’s erotic as hell, all slow, sensual, and gentle.
I’m standing perfectly still now at the foot of the bed, watching her, transfixed, as is Cain, but Mal is stalking around the bed, like a big cat on the prowl.
He startles me when he climbs onto the bed and clambers over her, still fully dressed.
He leans down, face close to her fingers and pussy, and breathes in deeply.
“I can smell you,” he says. “You are so needy, aren’t you, Little Ghost?”
“Yes.” It’s almost a sob.
“Can I play?”
She nods, moving her fingers away and parting her legs more.
I expect Mal to bend his head and lick her, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he carefully parts her folds with his fingers and uses his other hand to flick his middle finger over her clit, back and forth in a side-to-side motion.
It’s fast, but I can tell he’s being gentle and keeping his touch light.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Cain asks.
She nods.
“No, Angel. Use your words. Tell us,” Cain demands.
“Yes, it feels good.”
“What feels good?”
She licks her lips nervously. “My, um, my pussy.”
Her cheeks pinken, bringing some color to her lovely face.
“Do you need some fingers inside you?” Mal asks.
Her reply is a gasp. “Oh, God, yes.”
“Get on all fours, baby, ass to the edge of the bed and let Roman take a turn.”
He shuffles back to give her space and kneels up as she repositions herself. Now, her pussy and ass are right in front of my face, her pussy swollen between her thighs, and gods help me, but I can’t hold off. I step forward, kneel, and lick right over her clit.
She moans so loud it almost makes me come.
“That’s it,” Cain orders. “Let us hear how good he’s making you feel.”
I suck her pussy into my mouth, running my tongue over her fleshy outer lips and then pushing through them to flick again at her swollen clit.
I stand back and admire how wet she is now, and like this, her most secret place is on display.
I can’t resist, and I lean back in and run my tongue over her asshole.
It clenches under the touch of my tongue, and she gives a gasping little wail.
One day, I want to fuck her there, in her tiny, tight hole, and feel her stretch for me. Not today, though.
Today is all about making her come, and come, and come.
Today is about making her look at me, while I give her so much fucking pleasure she can’t take it.
Today is about love.