They were getting to her with orgasms.

It had gotten to the point where she was craving their touch. She started to get antsy if they were late in coming to her. Right now, her body was on fire, and her skin itched. She was getting desperate to have one of them inside her.

One of them? Hell, all of them.

They were working on that too. Whispering to her about what life with them would be like. How they would cherish her, support her, and give her whatever her heart desired. How they’d live for her, for her pleasure and laughter. They’d be whatever she needed. When they left, all she did was dream about that life.

She chewed at her lip. They made it sound so appealing. So amazing. But it couldn’t be real, could it?

Yet, they were so united in this idea of sharing her. She wiped her hand across her brow and realized she was sweating. Her body was doing strange things. It wasn’t just lust. It was more than that. Like she had to join with them or she’d be forever in this state of need. She took in a shuddering breath. What would happen if she did sleep with them? This wasn’t just sex to them. They wanted everything. She’d have to give up her dream of freedom. She’d be tied to three men. Funny, how that no longer made her feel claustrophobic or panicky. Was she really considering it?

She blew out a breath. It seemed she was. And the idea was becoming all too appealing.

She’d need to sneak out. Carlin still hadn’t relented on letting her out of her room. Ass. Maybe that was part of her problem. She was getting cabin fever.

She looked over at the rope and smiled. She had a way out. Maybe it was time she took charge of things. Maybe it was time she had what she wanted.

And, right now, she wanted the three of them.

* * *

Garret looked up at the dark window with a frown. She always left a light on. He was a little late getting here tonight. There was a full moon out, and it seemed the streets were filled with thugs and lowlifes looking for a quick fix. He’d had to knock out one guy who’d tried to rob him at knifepoint. Idiot.

Is she grumpy because I’m late?

Then he took a good look. The window was open, and was that a loop of rope hanging from it?

She wouldn’t.

But he knew she would.

A tendril of panic unfurled in his chest. Why would she go out the window? Why wouldn’t she just walk out the door? Unless she didn’t want her brother to know where she was going? Was she running off? Then another thought occurred to him. No, she’d known he was coming. She wouldn’t be so foolish as to attempt to come to them.

He sniffed the air and caught her scent. Wherever she’d gone, he would find her. Then he was going to give her the scolding of a lifetime for making him worry. Then he might just turn her over to Sawyer.

Yep, she was going to be sorry for pulling this stunt.

* * *

Oh, God. She was sorry she’d ever left the safety of her room. Of her brother’s protection.

Stupid, stupid idiot.

She’d thought she’d be safe. Thought she was clever with her ability to avoid her brother’s guards’ detection. She’d been cocky. Too sure of herself.

And that overconfidence just might get her killed.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here.”

She glanced up, trying to hide her fear as Marcus Gio walked into the small, windowless room she’d been locked in. Her cheek throbbed from where one of his men had back-handed her, her left eye was already swollen shut and she was pretty certain she had a couple of cracked ribs. But she had to push past the pain. She had to figure out how to get out of here, before they did worse. Or before her brother found out where she was.

“Mr. Gio,” she said calmly. “You’ll have to excuse my state of dress. Your goons have no manners.”

He sat on the chair one of those goons bought in. The rest of the room was bare. Bleak. Gray walls, gray floor, and a few flickering florescent lights. Two of his men stood behind him. Both of them watched her with hungry eyes. One licked his lips and grinned. He was the one who’d hit her in the face. She glared back at him.

“Now, now, if you hadn’t fought them, they wouldn’t have had to get rough with you, would they?” Gio spoke in a condescending tone. He looked to be in his sixties. The years hadn’t been kind to him. Unlike her brother, who kept himself fit, hard, Gio looked like he was one piece of bacon away from a heart attack. His stomach stretched the shirt he wore, making the buttons cling on for life. His face was jowly, the loose skin of his chins wobbled as he spoke. His beady eyes watched her with a lasciviousness that made her shudder. She had to force herself to meet his gaze. His dark hair was slicked back, probably in an effort to cover his bald spot.

And he scared the bejesus out of her. Why hadn’t she been more careful? Well, she was going to pay now. That was for sure.

Tags: Laylah Roberts Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net