Chapter 19 #2
Giving her pleasure seemed to help bring her out of her fear, and shit, I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of watching her fall into bliss, especially as she seems to love all of the depraved things we’ve tried so far.
Soon, I’ll introduce her to my knives, marking that pretty, unblemished flesh of hers until my scars litter her skin for all to see.
Hunt glares at us as we finally emerge, but then she’s skipping over to him and pressing a kiss to his lips, thanking him for the breakfast feast that he never used to prepare but seems inclined to do now each morning we’re here since our pretty little houseguest arrived.
His mood brightens after that, and who can blame him?
She’s like a ray of fucking sunshine, and we’re all desperate for her light and warmth.
My lips twitch as she bounces in her seat, even as she moans about how good the loaded pancakes are, making all of us hard as rocks if the way my brother, Hunt, and I adjust ourselves is any sign.
The plan was originally for Roman to take her while Hunt and I attended to some Shadows business—some of our runners are being targeted at the moment and we want to discover who is behind it—but clearly, Hunt can’t quite let her out of his sight again so soon because shortly after we clean up, he declares that we’ll all go.
We can spend some time at the gym, it’s always good to get a workout in and it helps that we show our faces regularly to our crew.
They’re used to seeing us in the gym, something we’ve not done since Iris arrived.
I grab my gym stuff, throwing in some bits for Roman too, and then head to the front door to find my Little Lamb talking a mile a minute to my brother, who is fucking enraptured.
I don’t even know what she’s saying, not sure he does either, as like me, he’s just staring at her with stars in his eyes. Fuck, we’ve got it bad.
“Ready to go?” Hunt asks, striding up to us, his own bag in his hand.
“Yes, boss!” Iris cries while saluting, and my lips twitch as Hunt’s nostrils flare, his beast scenting the air. He’s got it bad too.
“Jesus wept, Peaches,” he rasps, grabbing the back of her head before slamming his lips against hers. Her squeak of surprise turns into a moan that has my dick twitching, the sight of them so fucking hot I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave after all.
Though just as suddenly, he releases her, his pupils blown and his chest heaving as much as hers is. Then without a word, he storms past them, flinging open the door, a blast of freezing air hitting us and making her hair lift as he strides out of it.
I bark a laugh, and Roman stares at me as if he’s never heard me laugh before.
To be fair, it’s not often that I do. Well, not this sort of laugh anyway.
I laugh plenty when someone is tied up and bleeding, my knives singing across their skin and parting their flesh, but that kind of laugh usually scares people.
“What’s so funny, bro?” he asks, staring at me, his brows raised.
“We’re all so fucked.” I chuckle before sauntering towards them, taking her hand and tugging her out the door.
I shiver as the cold wraps around me, but the soft warmth of my scarf heats me more than any winter coat ever could.
I noticed Hunt and Roman have theirs too, and saw the gleam of pride in Iris’s eyes when she saw we all had them on.
I glance behind me to find her cheeks pink, her thick winter coat pulled tightly around her as we make our way to the stairs.
“Urgh, I’d forgotten you guys are allergic to lifts,” she grumbles as we enter the stairwell.
I chuckle again as we start to descend, enjoying the slight burn of my thighs as we keep going.
It’s a good warmup for a workout, coming up them is even better, but by the way Iris puffs behind me, she’s not a fan.
“It’s good cardio,” Roman tells her from behind us, his voice laced with amusement.
“Fuck your cardio,” she wheezes, and I stop, turning to face her. Her cheeks are bright pink now, and her chest heaves, her forehead glistening.
“We’ll help you do lots of cardio, Little Lamb,” I tell her, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead behind her ear. “And then we won’t need to give you such a long head start.”
Her brows dip as her tongue comes out to trace her lower lip, and I have the urge to bite it until it’s bruised and bleeding. I want my marks on her so fucking bad. “Head start for what?”
“The chase, sweetness,” I purr, an image of her running away from me, blonde hair flying behind her, making my blood sing. “We will hunt you like the fox hunts the rabbit, and when we catch you, we’ll devour you.”
Her eyes widen, the pupils blown so wide that almost all of the stunning hazel is hidden.
“Fuck, bro. Did you have to go there right now? I’m going to meet the crew with a raging boner,” Roman groans, and smirking, I take a final look at our Little Lamb before spinning back around to carry on walking down the stairs.
Hunter is waiting at the bottom, and he surprises the shit out of me by taking hold of Iris’s hand and tugging her towards the centre which is at the heart of the estate.
We made sure it was when we had it built. A place for the community to meet, with lunch clubs for the old people, a gym for the younger members of the estate and our crew, and rooms that get used for birthday parties, free of charge. And now a kids’ craft club.
It’s a modern-looking building with lots of windows that make it bright and airy.
There are a few full walls out the back that are open for our local artist to paint and draw on, and honestly, I’m often blown away by the artwork that graces them.
The gym is in the basement and has everything, all the top-of-the-range machines, as well as an extensive weights section, plus a shit ton of punching bags.
One of the old timers, Dave, runs a boxing club, which is always popular, and many issues have been sorted inside that ring.
I cast a glance at Iris, watching her take in the building. She looks as if she’s considering it, her lips pursed as she takes it in, and I can practically see her mind working.
“We had the centre built a few years back when it became apparent we needed a space to keep people out of trouble,” Hunt tells her, and she pauses, her surprised gaze flicking to him.
“You paid for it? Not the council?” she asks, looking back at the large single-story building. My brother huffs a laugh.
“The council don’t give a shit about us here,” he scoffs, slinging his arm over her shoulder. She looks good sandwiched between my brother and Hunt, though she looks better naked.
“But didn’t they buy it off the developers?
When they went bankrupt or something? Wasn’t it meant to be luxury housing?
” she questions, looking up at him, her body sinking into his hold.
I fucking love that she relaxes around us like this.
There’s something so humbling about being given that sort of trust by another person, especially one such as Iris Montgomery.
“They did, and yes, it was supposed to be the most expensive estate in London, the flats all top-spec, but clearly they couldn’t budget properly, stupid fuckers,” Hunter sneers, looking around us and shaking his head.
We all love this estate, are proud to run it and call it our home.
We also know how bad some of the other London estates have it, the flats too small for what they were built for.
We have a lot more space here, inside and out, because of the fact it was always meant to be private, each flat worth hundreds of thousands.
“And the council still owns a fair percentage of it, Peaches,” Hunt informs her, pulling her and my brother towards the glass doors.
“We own quite a bit now too, as well as individual residents buying up some of the flats.”
“And the council didn’t mind you building this?” she asks as we step into the warm, bright space. There are colourful murals on the walls, artwork done by local graffiti artists, and I watch as her shining eyes take it all in, her lips parted.
“They didn’t get a choice, and they don’t give a fuck as long as someone else pays for it and the upkeep,” Roman mocks. “What do you think?”
We all stop and look at her. It somehow feels important to know what she thinks about something we’ve done.
We do a lot of shady shit, we are a gang after all, and most of what we do is not exactly legal, but we also try to give back as much as possible.
Some gangs out there do really vile stuff, but we’re here to look after our people, not make their lives more miserable.
“It’s beautiful, so bright and colourful. So happy,” she says, beaming, and I swear to god my heart actually skips a beat as pride fills my chest at her praise. She may have just unlocked a new kink for me, because I want to hear her call me a good boy for other, more intimate reasons.
Hunt’s chest practically puffs up like a lion, and my brother is no better, grinning from ear to ear. Yep, we are so totally fucked with this one.