Chapter 10 – Andre （February 12）
She says she’s done running, and for the first time I think I believe her. But believing isn't the same as trusting, and right now, I worry that Demi still trusts her own fear more than she trusts us.
I watch her on the floor with the dog, her shoulders still tight, her breathing a little too shallow. She’s a live wire, vibrating with residual adrenaline and the crash of a panic attack. She needs to be grounded. She needs to be reminded that surrendering control doesn't mean losing it.
"Marcus, grab the schematics and the comms units. Damon, clear the table," I order hitting them with a silent look that they pick up on right away.
Demi’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing. "I thought we were done with the briefing."
"We’re done talking," I tell her, walking over to her. I reach down, offering her a hand. She hesitates, just a fraction of a second before placing her small, cold hand in mine. I pull her up, not letting go once she’s on her feet. "Now we train."
"Train?" She scoffs, trying to pull her hand back, but I hold firm. "I know the plan inside out. I don't need practice drills."
"You know the tech," I agree, stepping into her space until she has to tilt her head back to look at me. "But you don't know how to work blind. You don't know how to listen to a voice in your ear when your eyes are telling you to run. Today proved that."
She flinches, the memory of what happened with the two security guys still fresh. "I told you, I messed up."
"You panicked," I correct. "And when you panic, you shut down. You isolate yourself. In that room, you won't have eyes on the door. You won't see the guards coming. You have to rely entirely on our voices to keep you safe. You have to trust us to be your eyes."
I see the conflict in her gaze, the defiance warring with the exhaustion. She wants to fight me, but she’s too tired to keep the walls up.
"So what’s the plan?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "Trust falls?"
"Something like that."
I look at my brothers. Damon nods, understanding the play immediately. He picks up Skipper, who is happily chewing on a shoelace and moves her over to her fancy dog bed.
Marcus smirks, a wicked glint in his eye. "Don't break the furniture, Andre. We need that security deposit back."
Demi’s face flushes a pretty shade of pink. "Wait, what? Why would we break the furniture?"
I don't explain. I just turn her to face the now cleared table.
"Strip."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Take it off. All of it."
She plants her feet, that sass I fell for sparking back to life. "I don't see how getting naked helps me with cracking that safe."
"It’s not about the safe," I tell her, leaning into her space and dragging my lips across her neck. "It’s about vulnerability. You’re used to hiding behind layers, wigs, glasses and fake names. Tonight, you strip it all away. No Martha, no Sapphire, no Blue. Just you and just us."
She glares at me as I back off, but her hands move to the buttons of her blouse.
She undoes them slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.
The ugly grey slacks follow, then the bra and panties, until she’s standing before us all completely bare.
She’s magnificent. All pale skin and soft curves I want to dig into.
She wraps her arms around herself, trying to cover up.
"Arms down," I say softly.
She takes a shaky breath and drops her arms to her sides. "Happy?"
"Not yet."
I reach into my back pocket and pull out a thick black silk tie I grabbed from the closet earlier.
Demi’s eyes widen, darting from the tie to my face. "You’re going to blindfold me?"
"Sensory deprivation," I explain, stepping behind her.
I gather her short hair, lifting it off her neck.
"You did well with this on Halloween. You let go of control and trusted us, complete strangers, to take care of you at your most vulnerable.
Somehow in all the noise of our chase, our game, you lost that trust. In the heist, your focus needs to be absolute.
You can't be looking over your shoulder.
You need to learn to function in the dark, guided only by our voices.
You need to trust us to take care of you again, baby. "
"This feels like a kink thing," she mutters, though she doesn't pull away as I settle the silk over her eyes.
"It can be two things," I suggest against her ear, tying the knot tight enough to be secure but not painful.
I turn her around to face me. "Can you see anything?"
"No," she whispers. She reaches out, her hands grasping at the air, looking for an anchor.
I catch her wrists, bringing them behind her back. I hold them there with one hand, not tying them, just holding them. "Don't reach. Feel."
I run my free hand down her throat, over the slope of her shoulder, down her arm. She shivers, goosebumps rising on her skin.
"What do you feel, Demi?"
"Your hand," she breathes. "It’s warm. Rough."
"What else?"
"Panic," she admits, her voice tight. "I don't like not seeing."
"I know. That’s the point." I step closer, pressing my chest against hers. I’m still fully dressed, the rough denim of my jeans and the cotton of my shirt a stark contrast to her naked skin. "You’re in the dark. You’re vulnerable but you’re not unsafe. Who has you?"
"You do," she says.
"Say my name."
"Andre."
"Good girl." I release her wrists and slide my hand down her spine, cupping her ass and pulling her flush against my erection. "Now, listen to my voice. Focus on nothing else."
I guide her backward until her legs hit the edge of the table. "Sit and then lay back.”
I crawl over her, settling between her legs. I don't touch her yet. I just hover, letting her feel my heat, letting her hear the rhythm of my breathing.
"Once you slip away from the party," I tell her, my voice a low rumble, “You’ll be blind to what’s happening everywhere else.
If we tell you to stop, you stop. If we tell you to run, you run.
If we tell you to come..." I lean down, brushing my lips against the pulse point of her neck. "...you come."
She gasps, her hips bucking instinctively. "Is that an order?"
"It’s a protocol."
I kiss my way down her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin. "Right now, your only job is to receive. You don't have to plan. You don't have to watch the door. I’m watching the door. I’m watching you."
My hand slides down her stomach, tracing the line of her hip bone before dipping between her thighs. She’s already wet, slick and hot.
"Andre," she whimpers, her head tossing on the wood.
"I’ve got you," I promise.
I use my thumb to spread her folds, finding her clit. I don't stroke it immediately. I just press down, a steady, grounding pressure.
"Focus on the sensation," I instruct. "Tell me where I am."
"You’re... you’re on my clit," she pants.
"Good. Stay there. Don't think about the safe. Don't think about Graves. Just feel this."
I start to circle her clit, slow and deliberate. I watch her face, the way her brow furrows, the way her lips part. Without her sight, every touch is amplified. She can't anticipate my next move; she has to wait for it. She has to trust that I know what she needs.
"Please," she begs, her hips lifting, chasing my hand.
"Please what?"
"Please... more. Inside."
"Not yet." I lean up and kiss her mouth, swallowing her moan. "You’re rushing. You’re trying to get to the finish line because you think if you finish, you can take the blindfold off and regain control. We’re not rushing."
I pull back to strip my strip off my clothes, the sound of the zipper loud in the quiet room. I can see her ears twitch, tracking the sound.
"You’re taking your pants off," she whispers.
"Observant."
I motion for Marcus and Damon to move onto her from where they’ve been standing watch and waiting for a chance to touch her.
Marcus moves fast and leans over her from the side.
His tongue darts out to gently lick at one of her nipples.
When she sucks in a startled breath, Damon leans over her and matches the move on her other nipple.
Her back arches against the table as she seeks more from them.
At my nod they both give her what she wants, licking, sucking and nipping at her nipples and squeezing her breasts.
She’s panting and moaning and my dick drips precum as I fist it to ease some of the ache.
Fuck, this woman is everything I could ever want in a partner for me and my brothers. I nod at Damon as I move forward.
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock teasing her opening. I don't push in. I just rest there.
"Open for him, sweetheart. Do as I say."
She tenses for a moment before she relaxes her thighs, surrendering to Damon's order.
I push in, inch by slow inch. She’s tight, clamping down around me, her body fighting the invasion even as she melts into it.
"Breathe," Marcus whispers in her ear as he moves up to kiss down her neck. "Relax, baby, let him in."
She exhales a shaky breath, and her muscles loosen. I slide all the way home, burying myself to the hilt.
"God," she groans, her nails digging into the wood underneath her.
I hold still, letting her adjust to the fullness. "I’m right here. I’m not leaving. I’m filling the empty spaces, Demi. Do you feel that? Do you feel us taking care of you, giving you what you need?"
"Yes," she sobs. "Yes."
"You’re not alone in the dark. You never will be again."
I start to move, setting a slow, punishing rhythm. I grind against her clit with every thrust, making sure she feels the weight of me, the reality of me.
"Focus on my voice," I say, my breath hot against her ear. "I’m going to wreck you, and you’re going to let me. You’re going to let go of the wheel and let me drive."
"I can't," she cries, her head thrashing. "It’s too much."
"You can. You’re strong enough to let go." I grab her wrists and pass them to my brothers. They pin them over her head and hold them in place. "Give it to me, Demi. Give me the fear. Give me the control."
I pick up the pace, snapping my hips, driving into her with a force that shakes the table. She’s unraveling beneath me, her composure shattering.
"Andre!" she screams, her body bowing upward.
"That’s it," I growl. "Come for me. Blind. Trusting. Mine."
She shatters. I feel her inner muscles spasm, clamping down on my cock like a vice.
She screams my name, a raw, broken sound that tears through my chest. I ride out her orgasm, thrusting through the waves, until my own control snaps.
I bury my face in her neck and empty myself inside her, groaning as the release floods my system.
I collapse on top of her, my heart pounding against her back as Damon and Marcus stroke her face and hair, praising her. I keep my weight on her, grounding her, keeping her pinned to the table, to the moment, to me and then I reach up and untie the blindfold.
She blinks, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. They’re wet with tears, but the panic is gone. The frantic, hunted look she had on the floor with the dog is gone. She looks up at me, her gaze soft and clear.
"I saw you," she whispers, glancing at the other two before focusing back on me. "Even with the blindfold... I saw you all."
I kiss her forehead, smoothing back her damp hair. "I told you, we’re your eyes when you’re blind. We aren’t going to let you down. We won’t leave you alone in the dark ever again."
She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a soft, lingering kiss. When she lets go she reaches for Damon and Marcus’s hands and holds them. Her eyes crash closed for a moment but when she opens them again they’re full of certainty… in us.
"Okay," she breathes out and then that sassy little smile flashes across her perfect lips. "I trust you. Let’s take this bitch down."