with lust.
“Back the fuck off, Franklin.” It’s Berrin this time, and I sway towards him. He captures me in his arms and pulls me against his chest, and for a moment I feel safe there until Mathieson steps up behind me and brushes his lips against my ear.
“I remember this. I remember how it felt to fill your arse with my cock. I remember how pliable you were, how submissive, how willing and how fucking tight, Goldie.”
“Matt, I swear to fuck I’m gonna deck you if you don’t back off!” Berrin snarls, shoving Mathieson away. I’m shivering now, my teeth clattering as Berrin pulls me away from Franklin and Mathieson.
“You don’t remember this…” I stutter, looking up at Berrin.
He shakes his head. “I don’t.”
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because of the three of us, Berrin consumes the most honey,” Franklin confirms, his voice dark, guttural. “I remember more because I stopped taking it the day after you arrived. Matt consumes the least and therefore his memories can break through because there isn’t enough in his system to keep them at bay.” I turn in Berrin’s arms to face Franklin and he smiles at me, a desperate kind of thirst and need hazing the air between us until it becomes too thick to breathe in. “I don’t know why you think Berrin is the lesser of three evils. He was the one who liked to fuck you with his hand gripping your throat so tightly that you’d orgasm teetering on the edge of death. Breath play, the most dangerous of all sexual acts. Isn’t that right, Berrin…?” Franklin says, his gaze meeting Berrin’s above my head.
“Fuck you, Franklin,” Berrin growls, but there’s no mistaking the hardness of his cock pressing into my back. His conscious mind might not remember what we did, but his body does. I push away from Berrin and point at Franklin.
“You left me with Berrin knowing what he’s capable of.”
“I left you with him because he didn’t remember. He was the safest bet.”
“The note said I loved you. Loved all of you. You won’t hurt me…?” It’s a hopeful question not a statement. My pulse pounds in my neck, the sound loud in my ears. Tears prick my eyes, partly through fear, but also because there’s a truth to these statues and what they portray. I’m afraid because every one of them is edged in a sheen of violence.
This isn’t lovemaking. This is fucking.
It’s raw, feral, dangerous.
My body begins to tremble. I’m so confused, fearful of the three men before me but there’s a huge part of me that’s acutely turned on by what I see. It’s overwhelming. Why would Franklin tell me to run if he wasn’t afraid for me? If we had truly had a connection, then why did I leave if not through fear of what they might do? And what had I meant about not hating them for what they did to me when we first met? Did they hurt me? Force me? Was there a time when I didn’t welcome their touch? Should I fear them now? I look at Franklin and desire bubbles inside of me at the intense look he’s giving me. My instincts tell me that he’s a hairsbreadth from grabbing me and fucking me raw.
“Darling…” Berrin starts, his voice gruff, confused but also tempered with longing.
“I think you should leave,” Mathieson bites out. His hands are fisted by his side and his scowl is dark and menacing. He’s visibly shaking. His whole body trembling with suppressed emotions that I don’t think he can begin to unravel in the moment. My heart swirls with confusion. I know these men. I’ve loved these men according to the letter. I’ve fucked these men willingly. I’ve lusted over them. I’ve dreamt about them and enjoyed the memories. Today I slept with Berrin and wanted more. I still want more, and yet… there’s a darkness to our relationship that has me second-guessing everything because I don’t remember that part. I don’t remember what they did to me when we first met or how that had felt. Yet, despite all of that, I don’t want to leave. Something is telling me to stay, to see this through.
“I don’t want to go…” I say, my eyes brimming with tears. One droplet falls free, rolling down my cheek.
“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Go!” Mathieson growls, his gaze tracking the tear as it drips from my chin.
“I don’t…”
“For the love of God, fucking RUN!” Mathieson roars, cutting me