Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(109)

His thick cock is dark and swollen, desperately leaking pre-cum against his stomach, yet he seems . . . content.

I lick my lips, and Dom’s brow kicks up. “I think you’re done.”

I frown, pressing my cheek against Beau’s chest. His heartbeat is still unsteady, and he rests his chin on the top of my head.

“I don’t want to be done,” I reply, and I can’t even find the grace to be embarrassed by how petulant I sound. Dom’s brow hikes further in warning, and I rush to add, “Sir. Please. I . . . I want to make you feel good too.”

Dom hesitates, and Beau tilts my head up, dropping sweet kisses against my lips, my chin, my cheeks. He rubs his nose against mine, and I hum in happiness.

Beau glances over at his friend. “I think she can do one more. You could use it.”

“And I said she’s had enough. We’re done for the day, Beau.” His jaw flexes. “Don’t push it.”

Sleepy, and not liking the snap to Dom’s tone, I roll a little and reach out for him. He stares at my palm like I presented him with something unexpected. Something special.

His face softens, and he takes my hand.

My heart softens too, at the shine in his eyes.

Picking something up from the grass, Dom moves in so he’s behind me, then tugs my head back. I expect a kiss, but instead, he cradles my gaze in his, and slowly, so slowly, he slides my glasses back on. I hold my breath—I don’t think I could find air if I wanted to.

Dom’s large hands whisper over my cheekbones, and he watches me with such focus, moves with such studious care as he tucks my glasses gently behind my ears, that my heart takes a hard, aching hit.

When his hands fall away, I remember to breathe, and I let my head rest back in the nook of his neck. My legs are still twined with Beau’s. The three of us are pressed as close as we can be without them being inside me. A drowsy calm falls over me, and I snuggle against them, deciding not to question the sweetness.

But Dom doesn’t seem inclined to let me sleep. In a serious voice, he asks, “Are you okay, Eden? That was a lot.”

Beau’s hand trails idly over my thigh as I frown. I don’t know if he’s referring to the fight, or the man I killed, or all the scarily intense sort-of sex, but whatever he means, I don’t really care—I’m stuck on one word.

He’s calling me Eden again, and I don’t think I like it.

I think I want him to go back to calling me “good girl” . . . or even “pet.” It doesn’t sound like such a loaded word while we’re all naked like this.

Stretching like a cat between them, I rub the back of my head into his neck. “Mm-hmm, I’m good, sir. Perfect. I’m perfectly perfect.”

“Perfectly perfect, huh?” he asks, sounding wry.

“Mm-hmm.”

His fingers track down my side, almost hesitantly. “Well, okay, then.”

I sink into the touch. I could probably slip under this feeling and drown here, and I wouldn’t even struggle.

Beau kisses my shoulder lazily. “Our pet looks good on you,” he says to Dom.

At the endearment, I melt, but a small amount of tension steals into Dom’s embrace.

“Hmm,” is all he says.

I nestle in closer, sleepy and dazed. I don’t want him tense. I want him limp and sated and thrilled with me. I try not to read into his lack of reaction. It is Dom, after all.

“You should see what the three of us can manage in a bed, darlin’. We’ll have to find one next time.”

Dom’s hand falters from its stroking motion on my back. Then it drops, and he squeezes my hip.

I sigh into the touch, my brain puddled between my ears. I don’t want to—can’t—overthink this. Dom and Beau have me wrapped up like their favorite present. It is perfect. The three of us like this, clean of secrets, is one of the most perfect things there is.

I want it to stay like this.

And there it is. In this moment, it all feels so clear. Almost easy. It’s like they washed away the last of my doubts with river water and liquid orgasms.

“I want to break the deal,” I say, calm and sure. “I don’t want any more conditions attached to me staying at Bristlebrook.

I’ll stay because I deserve to be there. Because I contribute as much as anyone, and it has nothing to do with sex.” I don’t even stumble over that word anymore. What a wonder two weeks can work. “No more lies. No more hiding things. Not ‘going forward.’ From now on, I’m there because I want to be, and because you want me to be, and for no other reason.”

For a long, long moment there is only the sound of their breathing and the babble of the water along the stones. Beau and Dom are both tense and still beside me.

Then Beau eases up on his elbow, turning so he looks down at me. “You . . . want to end this?” he asks. “End . . . us?”

They really are terrible listeners.

I reach up and run my finger along his jaw, enjoying the scrape of his stubble. “Not even a little bit.”

He relaxes, his breath rushing out. “Thank God, darlin’. I was really worried I was going to have to arrange a kidnapping for a second there.”

I smile, but Dom sits up behind me, pulling me up with him. There’s a knot between his dark brows.

“What about the others? What does this mean for them?” There’s a hint of steel in his voice. “You’re choosing Beau?”