“I’ve never . . . I mean . . .”
“Shh,” I whisper, running my knuckles over her cheek. Lowering myself to my knees, I pull her with me. Nodding up at my best friend, he leans against the desk. “Are we going to do this together?” I question her, my hand gripping River’s hard erection. Slowly, I stroke it, jerking him against my lips as I lean in, taking him into my mouth, my eyes locked on Caia’s as she watches me.
I never told her about my past. She doesn’t know the things I’ve done, how I’ve been conditioned to find pleasure, to find the release most people can without the sick needs in their heads. I need it. I’ve been broken. My mind severed from the normal desires of the human mind.
I don’t think she’ll do anything. She sits quietly for a long while as I suck River deeper into my throat. But then she shocks the shit out of me when she leans in closer as soon as I pull his cock from my mouth, and she takes him into hers.
“Sweet fucking Christ,” River hisses low and gravelly, and I know my girl, our girl, will be just fine working with us to take down the assholes who hurt her, who hurt me, and most importantly, who hurt her sister.
We continue pleasuring my best friend, taking turns sucking and licking him until he grunts his release, painting her tongue alongside mine with his sticky release.
We move fluidly, my lips molding to Caia’s as we share River’s seed, tasting and reveling in the juices, and she swallows what’s left after I break the kiss.
“You’re ready,” I tell her, confident that she doesn’t need to be trained. She has been trained all her life. It’s time for her to shine. To take back the life that was stolen from her.
“For what?”
“To be ours.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CAIA
A soft humming wakes me from a dreamless sleep. When I open my eyes, I find my sister sitting on the window seat with a book in her lap. She’s focused on the pages, her gaze locked on the words. She’s wordlessly singing a song I don’t recognize.
I can’t move. Listening to her melody makes me sad. The pain in the song grips my heart, squeezing it until my breaths become uncomfortable.
“Hey,” I say, pushing up against the headboard.
Harper’s head whips my way. Her eyes crinkle at the sides as she strolls toward me. “Hey, sis.” She smiles, gifting me one of those special grins that only my sister can offer.
“What are you doing?” Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I push off the mattress. Once I near Harper, I notice the book she’s holding. I’ve not heard of it, but then again, I’ve not been allowed to read books of my choosing, watch television, or anything else.
“Dante had a box of books delivered for me.” She smiles sweetly. There’s a softness to the way she mentions his name, and I wonder if my sister wants Drake’s brother.
“I see.” Settling on the seat beside her, I lean in on her folded legs, placing my cheek on her knees. Closing my eyes, I focus on the warmth of my sister. “Do you like him?” I question, unsure what my sister is feeling or going through. I don’t doubt that Dante would keep her safe, but for some reason, I want to know if my sister is falling for the brother of the man who holds my heart.
After last night, I’m confused about my feelings. With River and Drake, everything blew up into something I’d never experienced. Having them both there, watching them, sharing pleasure with Drake and River, was so far outside my comfort zone, but the difference was I wasn’t forced to do anything. They allowed me to be me. To enjoy them without any rules, any restrictions. It was purely based on need. Drake has never told me about his past, but something inside, something deep down in my gut reminds me that his father was Malcolm Savage.
“I do like Dante, but . . .” Harper finally responds, dragging me from the turmoil in my mind and in my heart. When I meet her gaze, I know there’s so much more to her feelings for Dante. I don’t know how long they’ve been close or how long she’s been here, but something must’ve shifted in that time.
“Harper—”
“He has never touched me. Nothing’s happened. I just . . . I just like him,” she tells me wistfully, and I realize my sister has a crush. She’s not a teenager anymore, but the way she’s acting it’s as if she’s still sixteen. Sadness once again lances me, slicing through my chest.
I lift my head, looking at my sister, noticing her sweetness and innocence. Even though she’s been through so much before, she’s still a girl. A young woman who experiences life the way she should.