Chapter 17
Annabelle
Waiting. I hate waiting.
I stare at Callan and consider my options. Waiting and pacing, nervous and wringing my hands. Or we could do something else to pass the time.
“Bedroom,” I murmur and move before any of them can come up with an excuse for not fucking me into the mattress for the next several hours.
No one stops me.
Good.
I reach Ethan’s bedroom door, push it open, and step inside. The bed is immaculate. The air feels cooler in here, quieter, cut away from the living room and all the plans waiting to swallow me tomorrow.
They follow.
My pulse goes feral, and I turn.
Callan enters first, his face unreadable. Ethan follows, jaw tight, eyes on me with that dark, possessive intensity that makes my legs feel unreliable. Aidan comes last, slower but moving more easily than he did yesterday.
“You’re injured.”
His brows lift. “You invited us in here to tell me I’m injured?”
“I invited you in here to tell you to be careful while you ruin me.”
Ethan exhales hard through his nose. “Jesus Christ, Tinks.”
Callan shuts the door behind them. The click of it makes something inside me settle. Not safe. Nothing is safe anymore. But contained. Mine for a little while.
“I don’t want to think,” I say, because if I don’t get it out now, I’ll choke on it. “I don’t want to talk about Bennett, or my mum, or Maeve, or dead policemen, or whether I’m brave enough tomorrow. I want you. All of you. I want to feel alive right now.”
Aidan’s expression changes first. Understanding.
Ethan looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Maybe he sees it now. Maybe he knows this isn’t about distraction anymore.
It’s about choosing something before tomorrow tries to take the choice from me.
Callan stays by the door, still and watchful. “Tell us what you want.”
The question lands harder than any command could.
My throat tightens. “I don’t want to be treated like I’m breakable.”
Aidan gives a low laugh. “Little bell, we are going to break you regardless.”
My breath catches. “I want you to stop holding back because you’re scared I’ll fall apart.”
Ethan steps forward. “We’re not scared of you falling apart.”
“You are. All of you. You look at me like one wrong move will shatter me. I can feel it. I hate it.”
“You were shattered when we found you,” Ethan says quietly.
“I know.” My voice cracks. It irritates me. “But I’m not asking you to pretend I wasn’t. I’m asking you to see that I’m still here.”
Callan moves then. Slow. Silent. He comes around my side and stops near the foot of the bed, giving me space while taking it away at the same time. It’s a talent, apparently.
Aidan’s eyes stay on me. “You’re here.”
The words are rough, but honest.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
Ethan reaches for me. This time, I don’t wait. I step into him and press my palms to his chest, feeling the hard beat under my hands.
For a second, he doesn’t move. Neither do I. We stand there with everything unsaid breathing between us, and I know he is fighting himself. I can feel the restraint in his body. It pisses me off.
“Don’t be gentle,” I whisper.
His eyes drop to my mouth. “That’s a dangerous thing to ask me.”
“Show me.”
Ethan’s hand slides into my hair. He holds me there, not hurting, not yet, just making sure I understand the line I’m stepping over. “Good girl.”
The praise moves through me like a struck match dragged slowly down my spine.
Then his mouth is on mine, and all the waiting, fear, anger and grief get swallowed under the brutal demand of his kiss. He takes. I give because I want to. Because the ache in me needs somewhere to go that isn’t a scream.
His hand tightens in my hair, angling my head. I open for him, meeting the force of it. His free hand slides down my back, over my arse, hauling me tight against him until I can feel exactly how much he wants this. A broken sound leaves me. I don’t care. I want to lose every last coherent thought.
Aidan comes up behind me, heat at my back, one hand settling at my waist. Not restraining. Claiming. His mouth drags along the side of my neck, teeth scraping just enough to make me shiver.
I feel Callan before I see him, the shift in the room, the way the air changes when he gets close. My eyes open. He is standing close, watching like he is trying to decide whether this is reverence or ruin.
“Come here,” I whisper.
His jaw tightens.
I reach for him anyway, catching the front of his shirt, pulling him in until he is close enough that I can see every cold, controlled line in his face. “Don’t stand over there and watch me beg for you.”
Something in him snaps.
Callan catches my wrist and stills it against his chest. His eyes lock on mine, icy and scorching at once. “You don’t beg for me. Ever.”
“Then don’t make me ask twice.”
His stare drops to my mouth. For one second, I think he is going to refuse me just to keep control. Then his hand closes around my throat, not enough to hurt, enough to own my breath, and he draws me away from Ethan. Ethan lets him.
Callan kisses me with a deep passion that is nothing like Ethan’s controlled kisses. Nothing like Aidan’s wild savagery.
It is sharper. Darker. Deliberate in a way that makes my knees buckle. He kisses like he has held back for too long and hates himself for giving in now. His restraint breaks, hunger with nowhere gentle to go.
He catches the hem of my top and strips it over my head. Aidan unclasps my bra, dragging it down my arms and tossing it somewhere behind him. Cool air skates across my skin. Three sets of eyes take me in, and every nerve ending in my body lights up.
Aidan’s palm slides up my stomach, over the underside of my breast, making me shiver. “Beautiful.”
I arch into the touch, hungry for every scrap of it.
Aidan’s mouth finds my neck again, open and hot, while his hand moves higher to cup my breast fully.
His thumb drags over my nipple, and I gasp at the jolt of it.
Callan’s hand is still at my throat, steady, possessive, his eyes fixed on my face like he wants to memorise every reaction and punish himself for wanting to.
Ethan steps back just enough to strip his shirt off, then reaches for my leggings.
I help, frantic now, shoving the fabric down my legs, peeling them the rest of the way and pulling my knickers off too, leaving me bare between them. The air bites over my skin. Their attention burns hotter.
Callan’s fingers tighten fractionally at my throat before he lets me go. “Get on the bed.”
I do.
The mattress dips under my knees as I climb onto it and move to the centre. I don’t look away. My heart is racing so hard I feel it everywhere, in my chest, my throat, my clit.
Aidan strips out of his shirt with less care than Ethan did. He reaches for his belt next, then stops when I glance down at his side.
“Tell me if it hurts too much,” I say.
His eyes flash. “Don’t worry about me, little bell. If I rip these stitches out with my cock pounding into you, I don’t really give a fuck.”
“No more words,” Ethan says, naked now and climbing beside me on the bed. He presses his hand to my lips. “Only feeling.”
His hand drops from my mouth to my jaw, holding me still while he looks at me like he is trying to brand this moment into memory. Something dark flashes through his face.
Aidan crawls onto the bed from behind me, one hand sliding over my hip as he positions me between them. Callan stands at the side of the bed for one hard second, eyes on mine, then strips with efficient, brutal movements and joins us without a word.
The sight of all three of them around me hits low and deep. It steals the air from my lungs. It makes me feel wanted in a way that hurts.
Needed.
Protected.
Owned.
Ethan moves me where he wants me, lying on my back with my legs spread wide apart.
His mouth lands on my pussy, and he sucks my clit into his mouth, nipping me with his teeth and tugging on me until I cry out.
The sound tears out of me before I can stop it.
My back bows off the mattress, thighs opening wider on instinct, and Ethan makes a low approving noise against me that sends another shock straight through my body.
“Fuck,” I gasp.
Aidan’s hand slides up my stomach and closes around my throat, not choking, just firm enough to hold me where they want me. “That’s it,” he murmurs against my ear. “Take what he gives you.”
Ethan’s mouth is ruthless. He licks, sucks, and bites, never letting up, never giving me room to breathe through the pleasure. I’m already sensitive, already half out of my mind, and he uses it. Every drag of his tongue lands hot and hard. Every pull on my clit sends my hips jerking.
Callan kneels beside my head, one hand braced on the mattress near me, watching. His eyes stay on my face, on every broken breath, every helpless sound. He reaches down and catches my wrist when I fumble for something to hold onto, threading his fingers through mine instead.
The contact nearly undoes me.
I squeeze his hand hard, and he squeezes back harder.
Aidan’s free hand drops between my thighs, two fingers parting me while Ethan keeps his mouth on me. “So fucking wet,” he says, rough and pleased.
His words make me wetter, needier, more desperate to be used exactly like this.
“Please,” I whisper.
Callan’s eyes sharpen. “Don’t beg, Annabelle. You don’t need to. You’ve got us.”
The reassurance in his voice breaks something open inside me.
Ethan pushes two fingers into me, slow at first, then deeper, making me feel every inch of the stretch while he keeps working me with relentless focus. I cry out and twist on the sheets, trapped between too much sensation and not enough. My whole body feels wound tight, every nerve lit raw.
“That’s it,” Aidan says, voice dark with satisfaction. “Let it happen.”
I can’t do anything else.
Ethan takes me apart with ruthless patience, dragging me higher and higher until my thighs shake and my breathing turns ragged.
Callan’s hand stays locked with mine, steady and unyielding, anchoring me while the rest of me comes loose.
When I look at him, he is still watching me with that frightening, intent stillness, as if every sound I make is getting under his skin.
The pressure builds too fast.
“I’m close,” I gasp.
Ethan glances up at me, mouth wet, eyes blazing. “Then come.”
It hits hard.
My back arches, my whole body snapping tight as the orgasm tears through me.
I clutch Callan’s hand so hard I nearly lose feeling in my fingers.
Aidan’s grip on my throat tightens for a second while I shake, and then he drops his mouth to mine, biting my lower lip as Ethan gets to his knees and drags me closer to him.
Aidan lets me go as Ethan’s cock nudges my pussy.
He takes it and circles the head over my slippery clit, and I moan as it pulsates under the pressure.
“Yes!” I cry out. “More!”
Ethan gives it to me.
He pushes in with one hard thrust, filling me so deep that the cry tears out of my throat and turns into a sob of pleasure. I’m still clenching from the orgasm, still oversensitive, and the stretch is almost too much.
“Fuck,” Ethan grits out, both hands locking on my thighs to hold me open. “Still coming apart for me.”
I am. I can’t stop. Every pulse of my pussy around him makes my whole body jerk. Aidan’s mouth stays on mine for one more filthy second before he drags back, eyes dark and hungry as he watches Ethan drive into me again.
The second thrust is harder.
The third steals my breath.
I turn my head and find Callan still beside me, still holding my hand. His grip is crushing now, his control hanging by threads. I can see it in the way his jaw sets, in the way his chest rises deeper than before. He drops his mouth to my nipple, and I arch my back.
Ethan fucks me with punishing, steady force, not letting me recover, not letting me drift. He keeps me exactly where he wants me, every stroke deep enough to make my vision flicker. My legs are shaking around him. My skin feels too tight for my body.
I can’t hold onto anything except them.
Ethan drives into me again, and again, each thrust hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. My pussy takes him greedily. I open wider, my free hand clutching at the sheets while Callan keeps the other pinned in his.
Aidan lifts his head from my nipple with a savage grin.
It goes straight through me.
He drops his fingers to circle my clit, slow once, then harder, finding the exact place Ethan’s cock leaves me aching for more. I cry out, and my hips jerk.
“Stay still,” Aidan murmurs against my neck. “Take it.”
Ethan gives me no mercy. He keeps that brutal pace, deep and measured, each stroke dragging against every raw, sensitive place inside me while Aidan works my clit with rough, knowing pressure that has me shaking all over again.
Callan lets go of my hand at last, only to shift closer. His palm slides under my jaw, turning my face towards him. His mouth takes mine, swallowing the sounds Ethan is fucking out of me. I tremble, and my second orgasm hits me, pushing Ethan over the edge with me.
Ethan buries himself deep and goes rigid, his breath breaking out of him in a hard curse.
The force of it rocks me again, aftershocks still tearing through my body while Aidan keeps his hand on me just long enough to draw every last tremor out.
Callan’s kiss turns rougher for one brief, brutal second, then eases as Ethan’s cock pumps his cum deep inside me.