Chapter Alec
Alec
Nick dragged Eric into the lift without releasing his grip on the man’s collar. I stepped in behind them and hit the ground-floor button.
Eric started to spout something about Ella, but I’d reached my limit.
While Nick slammed his face into the wall of the lift, I grabbed his cock and balls, squeezing until I had a firm hold.
“No,” he gasped—just as I crushed the soft flesh through the fabric of his trousers.
Nick chuckled when Eric crumpled down, screeching in agony.
“One more word about Ella,” I said, leaning down and tightening my grip until all he could do was whimper, “and we’ll come back to remove this useless sack.”
The lift pinged.
I straightened, released him, and stepped out into the foyer. It wasn’t busy yet—only a few bodies scattered through the space.
Nick hauled him upright again and dragged the sobbing man toward the doors. He hit the floor hard, but it did nothing to dull the heat still burning through me.
If Ella carried our child, then she was intrinsically part of us.
It set her apart from the others.
But it also painted a target on her back.
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Nick’s bike roared to life before he drove off. I opened the car door for Ella and waited for her to sit as Rowan climbed into the driver’s seat. We knew why we were going home, and Rowan had filled us in about what Eric had said before we arrived.
I slid into the car but didn’t let Ella get far. I gripped her waist and hauled her onto my lap.
“Home, driver,” I said to Rowan.
He turned to glare at me, but when his eyes shifted to Ella, they softened a fraction before he faced forward again.
I was self-aware enough to know that her presence had altered all three of us in different ways.
I didn’t like Eric’s words, but we’d thought we had all her pertinent information.
We didn’t know what her childhood had really looked like—we didn’t have access to her social care records, and James’s word wasn’t reliable.
I slipped my arms beneath her jacket, kissing the bare skin along her chest and neck. Her hand tightened on my shoulder as she shifted on my lap.
“Is my pussy nice and wet, Ella?” I murmured, sliding my hand from her hip down to her knee.
My fingers curled around her thigh and traced upward, smiling when she parted her legs for me.
It wasn’t much, constrained by the skirt—but that was the beauty of Ella. She never said no.
The way she closed her eyes and parted her lips as her breathing turned uneven was like watching her come alive for me—for us.
Rowan paused at the traffic lights, and I turned her to face forward, dragging her skirt higher. He adjusted the mirror, just enough to watch as I tore her underwear away. The soft, silky fabric stretched before it gave, the sound sharp in the enclosed space.
“Doesn’t she look good?” I murmured, spreading her legs.
Rowan’s eyes never left the mirror. Ella’s head fell back against me, her throat exposed, her body pliant. It would’ve been easy to unzip myself and slide straight into her tight little cunt—but I didn’t. Instead, I took my time, teasing her, slipping a single finger inside.
A horn blared behind us.
I chuckled as Rowan swore under his breath and eased the car back into motion.
Eric would be the last thing on her mind tonight.
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I left Rowan kissing Ella against the bonnet of the car and went inside. Nick was in the living room, his laptop open in front of him.
“I hope you’re not looking up ways to torture Wardle,” I said. “That shit’s traceable.”
“Not with my VPN,” he replied, glancing up at me—then past me.
“Rowan and Ella are snogging outside like a pair of teenagers,” I added when his inquisitive look appeared.
“What did you do?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
“Nothing much. Just heated her up before we got home,” I said, dangling her shredded underwear from one finger.
He reached for them.
I snatched them away.
He was still muttering under his breath when I tucked them away in my pocket. I walked to the window to see what was keeping Rowan and Ella.
I shook my head when Nick joined them, then headed upstairs to light some candles—not for ambience, but to watch the hot wax drip onto her body.
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By the time they brought her up, her hair was dishevelled, her suit jacket gone, and part of her blouse hung loose over her skirt. Even beneath the soft glow of the candles, I could see the flush in her cheeks as her gaze drifted around the room.
Rowan and Nick followed close behind her, already beginning to strip. They knew what I needed the moment they saw the candles, and neither of them complained.
I stepped in, finding the fastening of her skirt.
“Do you want to play, Ella?” I whispered as the fabric slid to the floor.
She rested her hands on my chest while I worked my way up the buttons of her blouse.
“Will it hurt?”
I paused, my gaze lifting to hers.
“Do you want it to?”
A flicker of sadness crossed her face. It didn’t linger.
“Tonight,” she said quietly. “Yes.” Her chin lifted.
I caught sight of my brothers behind her—their concern, their need to give her exactly what she wanted. I didn’t know how Rowan managed it, but she was perfect. We weren’t good men with good intentions, but we cared in our own way.
My fingers brushed over her stomach. We’d need to tell her soon, but for now, we could exist in this moment.
“Whatever you need, Ella,” I said, before returning to the buttons of her blouse.
It was fortuitous, really—that she needed the pain I’d already intended for her.