Cabin of Axes - Bea Paige Page 0,19

the sensitive flesh of my opening, my back arches off the bed.

“Oh, God,” I cry, pushing two fingers inside of me and pressing the pad of my thumb against my clit.

But it’s not enough.

I need more.

Twisting over onto my stomach, I put both hands between my legs and grind my pussy against them, crying out with the friction. It’s better, but still not enough. Pressing my eyes shut, it’s easy for me to conjure up Franklin, Berrin and Mathieson once more. They’re just on the edges of my thoughts waiting for me to welcome them back into my consciousness. With my fingers slipping and sliding through my wetness, I imagine the Torben brothers here with me now. I feel the roughness of Berrin’s palm against the soft pillowy flesh of my breasts. I feel Franklin’s expert tongue run up and down my slit. I feel Mathieson’s lips as he runs them over the heated flesh of my skin and his teeth as he bites down on my pulse.

With my next hip thrust, I come with a guttural moan knowing that these thoughts are more than lustful dreams, they’re memories.

These men know me intimately.

Chapter Seven

For the remainder of the day I stay in my room, not even going upstairs to join the Torben brothers to eat. At one point Berrin comes to see if I’m okay and asks whether I want to join them for dinner, after skipping breakfast and lunch. I politely decline, feigning tiredness when really I’m very, very hungry. Just not for food.

By the time I hear the Torben brothers heading to bed, I’m feeling so frustrated, anxious, and wound up that I decide to venture out of this room, if only for a change of scenery. The open plan living area is pitched in darkness as I step out onto the now cooling floor. The underfloor heating is necessary, given the sudden change in weather, bringing the usual summer temperatures down enough degrees to feel cold. Padding lightly over to the sofa, I take a seat, still feeling very much like a trespasser. Sighing heavily, I sit down on the couch, tucking my legs beneath me as I pluck at the hem of my t-shirt trying to figure out where I should go from here.

“Can’t sleep?” A deep rumbly voice asks from the corner of the room.

“Is that you, Franklin?”

“Yes?” He answers my question with a question in his voice, before flicking on a table lamp.

“I thought you’d all gone to bed. I’m sorry, I’ll go…” My voice trails off when I realise Franklin’s only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else. I bite down on my lip at the bear tattoo inked into his muscular chest.

Bear…

It’s significant. I somehow know that, but I don’t know why.

My eyes flick up taking in his broad shoulders, then lower over his defined abs. His skin has an all-over golden glow and his chest has a dusting of dark blonde hair whilst the hair on his powerful legs is thicker, curlier. I swallow hard.

“No, stay.”

He stands, striding over to me and settling on the sofa close enough for me to lose my ability to breathe. My nostrils flare at his masculine scent, and the clean smell of soap. God, this man is beautiful. I chance a longer look at him and find that he’s staring at me like a tortured man. A man in pain.

“Are you okay…?” I ask gently, reaching for him. My fingertips rest on his bare arm and I catch my breath at the way my skin tingles and my nipples pebble at the touch.

“Please, don’t do that,” he grinds out. His jaw clenching and unclenching.

“Sorry…” I whisper, swallowing hard and drawing my hand away.

For a few beats he remains quiet, but I can hear his jaw grinding like he’s trying to eat his words and swallow them down before he can say something he might regret.

“No, I’m the one who should apologise. It’s been a long day.”

“Is there a problem? I mean, besides me being in your home and encroaching on your life here…”

“Why have you stayed in your room all day?” he asks me, ignoring my question and replacing it with one of his own.

“Because…”

“Because?”

I sigh heavily. “Because I’ve been feeling…” Horny. I’m feeling horny, and strange and desperate. Because I feel confused, afraid.

“Feeling what?” he persists, twisting to face me completely now.

“Hopeless…” That too.

Franklin nods tightly. “I understand.”

“Do you? Do you really understand? Because I’m not sure that you do, Franklin. None