Chapter 32
“Icould die happy like this,” Dacre said from above me.
We were sprawled on my bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, my head on his chest as I toyed with the drawstring on his navy sweatpants. They were splattered with paint and smears of clay, his latest artistic obsession.
I twisted my head up to look at him. “There’s a chance I’m already dead and have ascended to heaven, given I get to have you, Pres, Sin, and Boston all to myself.”
He smiled down at me, dipping his mouth to mine and claiming it in a soft, probing kiss that consumed me. I loved how gentle he got with me sometimes. Slow and soft turned me on just as much as fast and hard.
I shifted, keeping my mouth fused with Dacre’s, and threw a leg over his waist to straddle him.
His hands splayed on my back, tongue meeting mine.
I pulled away, lifting my shirt over my head to bare my naked breasts for him.
He made a noise of riled appreciation, his hands cupping them as I dropped my mouth to his once more.
We were interrupted by my bedroom door flinging open, Presley strolling into the room like a guy who’d just found out he was in possession of the winning lottery ticket.
“Get the fuck out, I’m not fucking sharing her right now,” Dacre called, craddling me against him with a level of possession that made my blood heat.
“That’s too bad… because it’s time to get up, Sass, we’re going on a staycation in the city!” he declared, making his way to my closest and dragging a suitcase from the bottom of it.
I glanced at Dacre. “I take it back. Maybe I’m lucky to have you and Sin. Presley is officially on my shit list for interrupting our moment.”
Dacre grinned back at me, and Pres clutched at his chest like I’d wounded him. “How dare you reject me like that.”
He moved to the foot of the bed, his strong fingers closing around my ankles. I squealed as he tugged me from Dacre’s arms and down the bed, pinning me beneath him.
“Say you’re sorry or I’m going to flip you over and have my way with you.”
I pressed my lips together, daring him to make good on his words.
A sultry edge filled his expression and in one swift movement, he flipped me onto my stomach on the mattress, making me squeal again.
Sinclair strolled into the room. “We don’t have time for that, Pres. Pack your shit and Dempsey’s.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice muffled by the duvet.
“To spend two nights in a luxury suite in the city so we can fuck your brains out without anyone interrupting us.” The way Sin said it was so deadpan, like he was describing a root canal procedure at the dentist and not a four-way marathon fuck fest.
Presley whooped and moved off me, tugging me upright by the hips and setting me on my feet beside the bed.
“Did you know about this?” I asked Dacre, surprised it was the first I was hearing about it.
“I knew about a vague plan, but didn’t know it was happening tonight.”
Sinclair moved across the room, stopping in front of me and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Boston is coming too. You said you wanted to learn more about his… proclivities. Here’s your chance.”
My eyebrows rose. “This is going to be one hell of a weekend.”
Four hours later I found myself standing inside one of the most palatial hotel suites I’d ever stepped foot in.
There was polished marble and glass everywhere, including a large sweeping staircase to the upper level.
There were four bedrooms, five bathrooms, a kitchen, a bar, even a sauna all within the suite.
But by far the most impressive feature were the floor-to-ceiling windows across one entire wall with a breathtaking view of the city stretching for miles beyond it.
“Wow, this is stunning,” I said, a little breathless at the sight.
I suddenly felt so small and insignificant—it was similar to the feeling of looking out at the ocean, but far more intense. I was such a tiny chess piece in the world; it was so easy to forget that in Cape Canyon, where the Astons loomed large in every aspect of our lives.
The five of us naturally gathered in the living room, Sinclair handing out drinks.
“So…” I asked, glancing at each of them. “What’s the plan? I strip down and you all take it in turns humping me like wild dogs?”
Dacre laughed and Presley spluttered into his drink. I grinned back at them, proud to have elicited those reactions.
“We’re going to a sex club,” Boston declared.
My smile froze, then morphed into a frown. I’d never been to a sex club before, and while I wasn’t opposed to it, I had no idea what to expect.
“You and I?”
Boston nodded once.
“I’m going with her,” Sinclair said to his brothers, and relief flooded me.
I was hoping he’d say that. If anyone was going to be comfortable at a kink club, it was Sinclair.
And I knew if I so much as looked at him with any kind of distress, he’d haul me out and take me home.
Boston would too. Though I didn’t understand exactly what these specific tastes of his were.
If he was deep into one of his kinks, would he notice my needs?
I shot Sin an appreciative smile.
Presley folded his arms. “Then I’m coming too.”
Given his love for voyeurism, a sex club kind of sounded like the perfect place for him. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to watch me.
“So… why are we doing this again?” Pres asked. “Because Boston likes to fuck rough with toys or something and Dempsey wants to try it out?”
My eyes widened. “Do you really need to phrase it like that?”
“How would you like me to phrase it?” Pres challenged playfully.
“Well, I don’t actually know what his tastes are yet, so there’s no need for assumptions.”
Pres raised a brow at me. “Look at the guy, Sass.” He pointed in Boston’s direction in case I had trouble locating him in the same spot he’d been standing in for the past five minutes.
“He’s huge and he has a brutal reputation.
I’m telling you his kink is rough sex and maybe toys, but most likely bondage. ”
All eyes landed on Boston for confirmation.
He shrugged. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it, but it’s a little more intense than you’re making it sound.”
A thrill went through me at the prospect, and I bit my bottom lip.
“Oh my god, you love the idea of it!” Pres teased, and I whacked him on the arm.
“So what? I also love the idea of you getting off watching it.”
His gaze heated and he slinked towards me, sliding a hand over my waist and tugging my hips to his. “I’ll be watching, baby. Every move and moan you make will have me stroking my cock and wishing it was me.”
Sinclair cleared his throat. “So you’re coming, then?”
Pres shrugged. “Depends how well Sass performs, I guess.”
“Coming to the club, dumbass.”
Pres grinned. “Fuck yeah, I’m coming.”
We all turned to Dacre. He moved towards me, squeezing my hip and dropping a kiss to my cheek. “Have a good time, Bambi.”
I frowned. “You’re not coming?”
He shook his head. “Not my scene.”
“Usually anything to do with Dempsey is your scene,” Sinclair cut in.
Dacre shrugged, shaking his head. “Not this. Not right now.”
My heart sank. I’d been secretly hoping he’d agree to come too.
He squeezed my hand before letting go. “Come find me when you get back. We can finish what we started back home.”
I smiled softly at him, nodding my agreement. As I watched him climb the stairs to one of the many enormous bedrooms in the suite, I worried I was hurting him by doing this.
Tonight wasn’t about Dacre though. It wasn’t even really about me. It was about Boston.
He’d been so sweet with me. He’d forced himself to be patient and soft because he believed those were the things I wanted.
It was my turn to show him that his needs mattered too.
I stepped into a private room inside the sex club and immediately felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of items hanging from the walls and ceiling. I could feel Boston’s eyes on me, and I tried to school my expression to something less than full-on panic.
Presley and Sinclair had opted out of joining us in the room for now, instead choosing to watch from the viewing deck above us on the other side of the mirrors on the far wall.
The room was dark, with velvet-covered walls and red lights scattered throughout. There were benches, tabletops, saddle chairs, and swings, all spread throughout the space, and tools of pleasure hung on three of the four walls, the mirrors making up the last.
The door to the room clicked shut behind us and I swallowed, turning towards Boston. Before I could pivot though, his hard body was at my back, one hand closing around my hip, the other at my throat.
That all-too-familiar tremor clawed up my insides.
Trent had done this to me. He’d attacked me, terrified me, and made me too afraid to feel when I was in this position.
“No…” I said, the word slipping out before I could reconcile if I truly meant it.
Boston’s mouth was at my ear, his grip on both my hip and my throat tightening ever so slightly.
“That word won’t work in here. There’s only one thing you can say that will make it stop. Do you want to say it?”
My chest heaved with my heavy breaths, and I swallowed hard, shaking my head.
I wanted him to show me this part of him. If I called it off now, there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to convince him to take this step with me again.
“Good girl, Dempsey.”
His voice was darker, more menacing than he’d ever been with me. This version of him was closer to the brutal enforcer he was known to be than any version of him I’d seen yet.
My core clenched.
I wanted him like this. Wild. Raw. Losing his grip on his control.
He’d been holding himself back with me so he didn’t scare me, but I wanted all of him. The real him. Not the version he showed the world. Not the version of him that he believed would make him more appealing to me.
His hand slid from my throat down the front of my shirt, and gripping the two sides in both fists, he tore it from my body like a knife slicing through butter.