Cabin of Axes - Bea Paige Page 0,59
pull against the shackles keeping me in place. I groan as Franklin’s tongue laps at me and Berrin’s mouth clamps over one of my overly sensitive nipples. My head tips back and my eyes press shut as a kaleidoscope of colours sparkle beneath the lids.
“Please,” I beg, uncertain now if I’m begging for them to stop or to continue. I’ve been in this position a hundred times before. Begging for the pleasure to end whilst my body pleads for it to continue. My blood is laced with the intoxicating honey that runs through my veins, making everything so much more potent, making my skin sensitive, my heart race deliciously fast and my lust uncontrollable, insatiable.
Mathieson leans in close, his lips brushing against my own. “Cry for me, baby,” he says, gently, reverently, before his tongue parts my lips and he kisses me like his own life depends on it. Like I’m his lifeline, his link to sanity and stability.
Mathieson’s kiss, Berrin’s mouth, Franklin’s tongue, they all work together to conjure up this magic that I’ve become accustomed to over the last six months. They’re skilled lovers, dominant in every way. We may have had a rocky start. A start where their past prevented us from bonding in the normal way, but together we’ve broken through that.
I’m no longer their prisoner, kept in the basement to work on my research.
I’m no longer a stranger, unwelcomed, forgotten.
I’m theirs, and they are mine.
For the last six months we have lived as a unit. Happy, content. Utterly in love.
When Franklin’s fingers enter me gently, I’m reminded of that first time he touched me. I’d been both afraid and filled with a desire so incredibly powerful that I’d listened to my body and relented. Choosing pleasure instead of the pain that he’d also offered. He’d ruled me then, with dominance and an unbreakable need to get me off even when I wasn’t certain that’s what I’d needed most at the time.
When Mathieson’s teeth settle at my throat, biting gently over my pulse and soothing the slight sting with his tongue, I’m reminded of that first time he’d tasted my tears after he’d soothed the slaps to my arse, with a gentle hand and loving lips.
When Berrin’s hand squeezes my breast, I’m reminded of the times he’s held my throat the same way, bringing me to the edge of oblivion only to release me into a vortex of pleasure that had made me see stars as bright as the ones that now light the night sky outside.
These men stole my soul and my heart, just like they coaxed my orgasms with reverence, devotion, and love.
Despite my exhaustion, my body responds just like it always has under their ministrations. My eyes roll into the back of my head as another earth shattering orgasm builds like a tsunami deep inside of me. It takes over, rushing out from my core and shattering over me until I see stars, until the whole damn universe explodes with colour and light. Tears fall from my face, cascading over my skin until I’m drawn into warm arms that soothe and caress.
This is our happy ever after. Our very own fairy tale.
The End
If you enjoyed this book, then you might like my completed dark reverse harem romance series, Finding Their Muse. Read on for an excerpt from Steps (book one of the trilogy).
Steps Excerpt
Prologue
Ivan
Standing in the dimly lit dance studio, bare chested, covered in a sheen of sweat I wonder if I’ll ever be able to see myself differently from the broken man before me. Whether I’ll see someone other than the man who no longer burns with passion, but with a very real hate for everyone and everything, including himself.
The low bass of the music vibrates through the shiny wooden floor and up through my bare feet. Dark bruises already flare over my chest and back, colouring my olive skin a shade darker.
I’ve already pushed myself too far, but it isn’t enough. It never will be.
The memories of her…
I squeeze my eyes shut and let the music wash over me. I push away everything but the sound of the music as it blasts out of the speakers and concentrate on the feel of the floor beneath my feet as I run across it. I ignore the blisters, the warm slickness of blood as the torn soles of my feet bleed. I ignore the scream of my muscles as they protest at the abuse.
I’m not even sure how long I’ve been in here