42. Freya #2
Finally, when sharp tingles play all across my chest from the wax Oz has painted me with, he puts down the candle. “Gorgeous,” he says, his eyes tracking over me.
He takes off his glasses and kisses me. “You are not the monster your father tried to make you, my love.” He sits back on his heels and takes out his phone. “I think it’s time you start seeing yourself how we see you.”
I assume he’s going to take a photo but then he taps a button on his phone and a live video feed of us is projected onto the ceiling.
My eyes widen as colors and lights flash around me.
I don’t know where the cameras are hidden but somehow, Oz has got every angle of me projected around the entire room.
I glance to my right and it’s like looking in a mirror, my ginger hair spread out across the pillows as the image of me on the wall reflects my awe.
Oz shifts to the side and uses two fingers under my chin to guide my gaze back up to the ceiling. “Look at yourself, Mo Leannan. Look at how fucking stunning you are.”
I stare up at the ceiling. Light dances across the white paint and in the center of it all is me, splayed out on the bed in nothing but my panties.
My arms are stretched up above my head and lilac splashes of wax decorate my chest. The white scars fade into the background beneath the bursts of color and a steady blush rises from my collar to my cheeks.
I look like a professional boudoir model and the view only gets better when Oz reaches back with one hand to pull off his sweater and top. My mouth waters as I get a close up of the muscles on his back rippling and then Eli’s stripping too.
My gaze darts across the walls and ceiling, watching their lithe, ripped bodies from every angle. “Fuck, you should make movies, Oz,” I breathe.
He kicks off his boxers and climbs back onto the bed. “Only if you star in them,” he murmurs as he leans down to take my lips.
I’m panting when he pulls away, the taste of him muddling my thoughts. “Deal.”
He trails a single finger over the hardened wax on my front. “So pretty.”
I moan as he straddles me, nestling his thick cock against my panties.
The corner of Oz’s lips tips up. “We’re going to make such a mess of you, Mo Leannan.” He slides his hand around the back of my neck. “I want you to watch carefully, alright? I want you to see every second as we fuck you and paint this perfect body of yours with our cum. Do you understand?”
His thumb drags at my bottom lip.
“Yes, Oz.” I suck on his thumb as he slides it between my lips.
“Eli’s going to take this fuckable little mouth of yours while I ruin your tight, wet cunt. And you’re going to be a good girl and lie there and take it, aren’t you?”
I nod and his thumb slips free from my lips with a pop as he leans down to take off my panties.
Eli climbs onto the bed by my chest and the wax cracks on my skin when he straddles my chest and brings his cock to my mouth.
“Make sure her eyes stay open,” Oz tells him.
“Hear that, kitten, eyes open.”
Except he doesn’t need to remind me. I’m too enthralled watching the live video feed on the ceiling as Oz lines himself up between my legs.
I never see it from this angle. Normally, with Eli this close to me my vision would be blocked but the projection means I can see everything .
I quickly decide there is no view better than the look on Oz’s face and the clench of his buttocks as he sinks inside of my pussy. My mouth opens on a gasp and Eli takes advantage, sliding his hard length to the back of my throat.
His hands grip my head and I swallow him down as images of them fucking me surround us.
I catch glimpses of Oz’s eyes shuttering, of my legs splayed wide around his hips as his cock disappears between my lower lips. It’s lewd and dirty but somehow the blush it brings to my cheeks only makes it hotter.
I cut my gaze to the wall and watch my cheeks hollow as I suck Eli deeper. His groan reverberates through me, and I curl my fingers around the cuffs holding me hostage.
“Fucking Christ,” Eli curses. “I’m going to come.”
“Pull out,” Oz orders. “I want it on her tits.”
I gasp for air as ropes of Eli’s hot cum splash across my breasts and stomach, blending with the purple wax. He falls to the side on the bed next to me and Oz thrusts harder now, bottoming out with each stroke.
Eli drags two fingers through his cum and lowers them to my clit. He rolls circles over the tight bundle of nerves until my breath catches and I clamp around Oz’s cock. Then he gathers more cum on his fingers and paints my lips.
“That’s it. Lick them clean, kitten.”
I flick my tongue out and suck on his fingers as he swirls them around my mouth.
Oz groans at the sight and that’s all it takes for him to lose it. His grip on my hips tightens, and he tugs me towards him as he shudders inside of me, his release hot against my inner walls.
Slowly, deliberately slowly, Oz pulls out and I don’t need to be told to watch as his cum spills out of my cunt.
“So fucking messy,” Oz purrs, taking two fingers and pushing his release back inside of me. He holds out a hand to Eli. “Pass me my camera.”
Eli grabs Oz’s Nikon off the bedside table and I watch Oz work in the projections on the ceiling as he spreads my legs wide and snaps some photos. He takes one of my chest, Eli’s release swirling around the purple splashes of wax, and turns the camera around to show me.
“Now you have our marks. Inside and out.” He puts the camera down, leans over me, and taps two fingers against my temple. “Your father may have gotten inside your head, but we own your soul.” He drags his hand down, resting it against the mess on my chest, right over my heart.
I breathe him in, the scent of us and the hint of cinnamon that always clings to Oz rich in the air. The image of us kaleidoscopes all around me and never before have I felt so utterly encompassed, so incredibly owned .
I didn’t realize I was only clinging to existence, scrabbling at the edges of the world until these four men brought me to life. They fixed my broken pieces and every time I splinter, they bring me back together.
“I want to kiss you.”
Eli releases the cuffs around my wrists and I twine my fingers behind Oz’s neck. I sink into the feeling of his lips on mine, soft worship in every crushing kiss.
After, Eli takes me into the ensuite and lathers soap over my body as we shower. When we come back out into the bedroom, Oz has made the bed with fresh sheets and heaped cushions and pillows against the headboard.
I climb on next to him and look up to find a photo of me throwing popcorn at Jude projected onto the ceiling.
Oz pulls me down into the crook of his arm and Eli lies at my other side.
Gentle music plays from Oz’s Bluetooth speaker as a slideshow of photos plays across the ceiling.
Me, stealing Eli’s cowboy hat, a grin splitting my face.
Jude tickling me on the couch as we play Monopoly.
Pleasure in my shuttered eyes as I taste the pasta sauce Oz has made.
Layla and me in our dresses with our backs to each other and finger guns pointed in the Charlie’s Angels pose.
I laugh.
The photos keep coming, moments I hadn’t even realized Oz had captured playing out above us.
“This is you, Freya. You’re not the daughter of a serial killer. You’re the woman who makes my heart beat. You’re laughter and trouble and you’re so filled to the brim with love that it explodes out of you.”
Tears cloud my eyes. I always thought I was cold, detached. I had to be to survive and it kind of blows my mind that Oz doesn’t see me like that. He’s captured a light I didn’t know existed.
The next photo flickers on the ceiling. I’m dancing on the coffee table as Jude, Eli, and River grin up at me.
It shifts to another image of the same scene, but this time Oz has turned the camera around and captured himself in the photo as well.
All five of us smile at the camera and my heart bursts. Fireworks in my chest.
Oz rolls over so he’s holding himself above me, love playing in his eyes. “So much of what I use my skills for walks the line of right and wrong. I see the darkest of the dark but you, Freya, you give me a reason to find the light. To create something that is undeniably good .”
I curl my hand in his hair and draw him into a kiss, his beard rough against my face. My heart aches for Oz and everything he has to deal with on the dark web but I love that I can give him this.
He relaxes back down onto the bed and we fall asleep to photos of our time together.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more at peace but when I wake up in the early hours of the morning, anxiety presses at my skin.
I slip out from between Oz and Eli. Nerves for the con we’re about to pull jitter in my fingers so I sneak into my old room and take out my backpack, checking through everything one last time.
The plan will work. Zach will show. Oz will track him. We’ll find Harley.
The plan will work.
It has to work.