Chapter 19
Aidan
The sound of my name on her lips is better than I imagined.
I’ve waited for this since the moment I saw her.
I want to tear her apart and put her back together just so I can be the one to own the pieces.
She’s clinging to me, her fingers digging into my skin, and I’m hammering into her until I’m the only thing she knows.
“Say it again,” I growl, my teeth catching the sensitive skin of her shoulder.
“Aidan,” she whimpers.
Grunting, I pin her harder against the wall.
I want her to feel the weight of me. I want her to realise she’s never getting away.
This is possession. Pure and simple. I’m the monster she chose, and I’m going to make sure she never forgets the difference between me and my brothers.
I hold her steady while I ruin her. She’s crying out, her voice a jagged melody that settles the rage in my chest. She’s mine.
Every messy, beautiful inch of her belongs to me.
I’m going to stay inside her until she can’t remember any other name.
I know Ethan and Callan can hear this. I don’t give a fuck.
I don’t even give a fuck if they want to join in.
But they aren’t taking her from me. No one will ever take her from me.
The friction is a brutal, wet heat that drags a low snarl from my throat.
She’s slick with her own cycle, the metallic tang of it thick in the air, but it only drives the blood lust higher.
She sobs, her head lolling back against the cold paint of the wall as I find a deeper angle, a harder pace.
I feel her climax ripple, her tight pussy spasming around my cock, and I lose the last of my restraint.
I drive home one final, punishing time, unloading into her as she screams my name.
I don’t pull out. I stay buried deep, my forehead resting against hers as our breathing syncs into one ragged, desperate rhythm.
“Aidan,” she whimpers. “It’s hurting.”
“I know, little bell,” I murmur. “But I’m not leaving you. Not yet. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
She gasps softly, catching her breath, unable to move as I press her harder against the wall. My cock is still harder than it should be. She has this effect on me.
I pull back just enough to see her face. She looks wrecked. Her blue eyes are glassy. I don’t let her feet touch the floor yet.
“I’ve got you,” I mutter.
With one hand holding up my pants, and the other carrying her weight under her arse, she clings to me as I carry her to the guest bathroom. I place her gently in the shower and remove her tee, then her bra. She shivers and covers herself.
“Don’t,” I say, pulling her hands away. “Let me see you, Annabelle.”
I strip off quickly to join her, moving her out of the way as I turn the spray on. Ice cold water hits me for a moment and I take it, protecting her from the worst of it while it heats up. Then I pick up the sponge and soap and move her under the torrent.
She shudders as the warm spray hits her back, her fingers curling into my forearms for balance.
I don’t rush. I move the sponge over her skin.
The water turns to a stinging heat, steam rising around us in the small enclosure.
She stands there, limp and shivering, her eyes fixed on the tiles like I’m going to smash them.
My gaze rakes over her with the hunger of a man who finally has the right prize in the right cage.
My movements are methodical, firm. I want her to feel the claim in every stroke. When I reach her thighs, she tries to close them, her face burning a deep, humiliated red.
“Open,” I command.
She obeys, a small sob catching in her throat. I clean the blood and cum from her skin, my hand steady despite the roar in my blood. I don’t care about the mess. I care that I’m the one washing it away.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For everything. For needing this.”
I drop the sponge and cup her face, my wet palms slick against her cheeks. “Don’t be. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, Annabelle. With me. With us.”
I kiss her, a hard, possessive seal that tastes of surrender.
She doesn’t fight it. She leans into me, her body seeking the heat of mine.
I’ve broken her open, and now I’m the only thing filling the cracks.
By the time I turn off the water, she’s leaning her forehead against my chest, her fingers curled into my damp skin.
I wrap her in a thick towel and sling one around my waist before carrying her back to the bedroom.
“Tampons?” I ask and she gestures vaguely to the bags.
“I guess somewhere in there.”
I find the cardboard box amongst her other toiletries. Callan is an efficient packer. I pop the lid back and pull one out. Annabelle sits on the edge of the mattress on the towel. She is silent as she stands. I kneel in front of her. This is my position. My permanent station.
She doesn’t pull away as I perform the task with the same brutal focus I use for everything. I want her to understand the depth of my claim. I want her to realise that I’m the one who handles the reality of her existence.
“Done,” I state.
I grab a pair of black cotton knickers and help her into them. She lets me move her limbs. She is a doll in my hands. The lack of resistance is the best thing she’s ever given me.
When she is in her pyjamas, I pull the duvet back and wait for her to crawl in. Once she is settled, I stand over her, brushing her shower damp hair out of her face.
“I’ll go and clean up.”
She nods, her cheeks going red again. She is mortified by what we just did, and she needs a moment to gather herself. I need to go and clean up the kitchen before Ethan throws a hissy fit the size of the entire UK.
She turns her back to me, which is significant. It’s a sign of trust, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
Moving back through the penthouse, towel still draped around my hips, I find Ethan already on clean-up duty.
“How is she?”
That is the question that rocks me slightly. No snarky comment, no anger that I fucked her, just a simple query on her status.
“Fine. Tired. I’m going to make her some tea.”
He nods, his movements stiff as he bags up and discards the used tampon.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I move to the kettle and flick it on. “Is that it?” I ask, finding this all a bit suspicious.
“Is what it?”
“You. That’s all you’re going to say?”
“What do you want me to say? Are you angling for a fight, Aid? Because I can put you through the fucking window if you want.”
I smile. “Better. Violent you is home.”
“Fuck off. The only thing that matters is that she is okay. If you hurt her or forced her…”
“I didn’t. She pushed me. She knew exactly what she was doing. She said my name, practically purred it in my face, taunting me, begging me to take her.”
He gives me a look that could kill a houseplant. “She said your name and you lost control.”
“What can I say? I like it tumbling from her lips.”
“Stop it,” Annabelle says, edging into view. “Stop fighting over me.”
“We aren’t fighting over you, Tinks,” Ethan states. “That isn’t how this works. I’m just making sure he didn’t hurt you.”
“He didn’t.”
He turns to her and after one second hesitation, moves closer. She lets him. Barely. Her gaze is watchful, alert.
I dry my hands on the tea towel and watch every tiny shift in her face. “Tea?”
She looks at me as if she is offended that I can ask something so normal after I’ve just railed her against the kitchen wall. “Yes, please.”
“Go back to bed,” Ethan says. “I’ll bring it to you.”
“Fine,” she mutters and backs away.
“Why did you come out?” I ask her before she disappears down the hall.
She stops but doesn’t turn around. “What?”
“Why did you get out of bed?”
Her shoulders stiffen. She is debating which lie to tell. “I was thirsty.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “I’ll bring it in when it’s ready.”
“Thanks,” she says and hurries off.
“Thirsty for more of this,” I say, running my hand down my bare chest.
Ethan turns back to me and rolls his eyes. “God, you are insufferable.”
“It’s one of my better qualities,” I tell him.
“It’s one of the reasons I contemplate murder.”
I ignore him and make the tea.
My cock is only just beginning to ease. The memory of her saying my name keeps flashing through me like a live current.
Ethan’s silence as I carry to the mug down the hall, tells me more than an argument would. He wants to be the one to carry things to her. To feed her. To put her back together. He is trying not to turn it into a contest.
The bedroom door is open a crack. I nudge it wider with my foot and walk in. She is under the duvet on her side, facing the window. She doesn’t move when I enter. Her hand is tucked under the pillow like she is holding herself still by force.
“I’ve got your tea.”
She slowly pushes herself up.
I set the mug on the bedside table. “Careful. It’s hot.”
I stay where I am, looking down at her while she takes a cautious sip. I like this part too much. The aftermath. The softness that follows when she is too wrung out to pretend she doesn’t need us.
Her throat works as she swallows. “Are you going to stand there all night?”
“If I want to.”
She exhales through her nose. “You’re exhausting.”
“And you still let me fuck you.”
Her grip tightens on the mug. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say it like that.” She looks at the tea instead of me. “Not right now.”
I watch her for a second, then sit on the edge of the bed. Not too close. Close enough. “How do you want it said?”
Her brows pinch. “I don’t know.”
“That’s honest.”
She takes another sip, buying herself time. “I just feel like that is the only reason I’m here.”
The words hit like a bullet. “Oh, no, little bell. That is not the only reason you’re here.” I sit on the bed next to her. “I know what this feels like. You think the sex is the only thing keeping you in this room, in this bed, in this fucked-up situation with us. It isn’t.”
She finally looks at me. Her eyes are wary, tired.
“Then what is it?” she asks.
I look at the mug in her hands, at the way her fingers curl around it for warmth. “It’s because we see you. All of it. The ugly bits you hide. The bits you can’t carry on your own anymore.”
Her face hardens. “That sounds noble when you say it. It still started with lies.”
Reaching out, I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “I’m not going to insult you by pretending we did this the right way. We didn’t. We wanted you, and we took the route that got us closest the fastest.”
Her lips part, then press together again. She looks down at the tea.
Silence sits between us. I release it and let it. She needs space to think, even if thinking is what hurts her most.
“I’m going to leave you now. Ethan will be hovering.”
She grimaces and I narrow my eyes.
“You are angriest at him.”
“He betrayed me the most.”
“You trusted him.”
She nods, not looking at me.
“You can still trust him, Annabelle. You can trust all of us.”
“Trust is earned.”
“And we will earn it. You will see that you are the only thing that matters to us.” I stand up and leave the room, knowing Ethan won’t be far away.