One Hundred & Two

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If you haven't heard it today, y'all are awesome!

Thank you to those of you who read, comment, and vote! Especially those who comment as they warm my cold little writer's heart. 

And without further ado... 


I like it when they watch.

With their focus on me, their emotions bleed through the mindlink, and it's intoxicating. I'm drunk on them already. Heat spreads across my skin as I step away from Chris, directly behind the dildo, and thrust my shirt over my head.

The heap of clothes grows as my pants join my shirt, my bra, and my underwear. Chris takes my shoes and places them next to my clothes with the toes and heels perfectly lined up next to each other. He raises his eyebrow at my socks, and with an eye roll, I remove those, too.

"You, too."

Charlie shakes his head with an infuriatingly indulgent grin. "No, princess. You owe us this. When we take our clothes off, you'll be spreading to take all of us."

"Then why did you bring the dildo? Afraid you can't keep up anymore."

His smile turns smug. "I think you're the one who's afraid."

"What makes you think I'm afraid?" I ask, crossing my arms. His eyes drop to my breasts and lower as an obscene noise leaves his throat. "My eyes are up here, Hendrix."

"I know, but your eyes aren't wet—your pussy is—and I'm starving, princess. Let me have a taste."

I roll my eyes. Charlie has a slick mouth, and I hate to admit he's not wrong. He's right, I am wet. If he and the others want inside of me, they'll have to work for it.

"Because if you weren't, you'd be following instructions, and you'd be fucking yourself the way you did when you ran from us." Chris' hand closes around my throat and he pushes gently, backing me to stand over the dildo. "Spread your legs."

His nostrils flare as I dutifully do as he commands without a fight. The hand cuffing my neck shifts, tightening to keep my attention. Slowly, his other hand cups my left breast and drifts downward to find my clit.

The lightness of his touch sends a chill up my spine, and I shiver, whimpering his name. My hips pitch forward, hoping the beguiling circles he draws don't stop. Heat builds low in my belly.

Swaying, I catch a hand around his wrist to stay upright. A smirk tilts his lips. Arrogance bleeds through the mindlink as he glances at Charlie.

They mirror the same pompous expression. I can't wait to wipe it off. Michael, who stands behind them, stands in silence.

His arms are crossed, making his biceps bulge. With his feet firmly planted apart and his lips pinched, he's fighting what I feel in the mindlink—desire, lust, and hope. And dare I say love.

"Now, get on your knees."

Transfixed, I follow Chris' order. His blue eyes stare straight through me, cutting me to the quick. I'm stripped bare before him, hoping he'll fuck me like I need when this is done. Hoping he, Charlie and Michael—and Lewis — will love me like I need.

And hopefully, I can do the same for them. A year and a half ago, I wouldn't have believed you if you'd told me I would be safely away from Catrina and in love with four different men. I would have called you insane and requested you be admitted to the nearest asylum.

Now, I can't imagine my life without them.

"I'd forgotten how good you look when you're on your knees..." Michael says, closing the gulf separating us. He stands on the opposite side of Chris, green eyes glowing in the waning light. "Spread your legs—wider."

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