Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Oh, I’m tired,” she teased as he pounded inside of her with selfish need. “But I don’t think I’ll ever tire of being the center of three men’s attention.”
“Us, not just any men.”
“Yes,” she clarified. “Only my three bears.”
“That’s right. Ours. And right now, you’re mine.” His hand closed around her throat as he held her down, fucking her hard.
Stone loved to play games and challenge her. He used his hands, his mouth, feathers, ice, whips, basically, anything he could find to heighten the experience. And when she begged for more, he gave her less. When she tried to rush toward release, he slowed everything down. It was always a power play and he never gave up that hard earned control.
“Please,” she gasped, tugging uselessly at his arm as he teased and tormented her in that twisted way they both adored. “Stone, please—”
“Please what?” His voice was amused, indulgent. “Use your words, Zayka. Tell me exactly what you need.”
“I need to come—” She broke off as his fingers found her center, stroking with maddening expertise as he thrust in and out of her.
“In Russian. How else will you ever learn?”
Her brain scrambled for the right words, “Pozhaluysta, pozvol’ mne konchit’.”
“You’re so fucking sexy when you speak my language. Especially when you get the words wrong.”
“Did I get it wrong?”
“No, that was perfect.”
As soon as she was about to climax, he pulled his hand away.
She growled in frustration. “Bastard!”
He slapped her ass and laughed. “You need to learn patience,” he murmured. “Good things come to those who wait. And you’re going to be very, very good for me, aren’t you?”
“I thought I was being good.”
“Say pretty, pretty please, Stone—in Russian.”
“Nu pozhaluysta, pozhaluysta, Stone.”
“Beautiful. You make me a greedy prick. When I hear such pretty words from your mouth, I want to fuck it.” He fisted her hair, pulling out of her as he dragged her to the floor and forced her to her knees. “Suck me off, and then I’ll make you scream so loud my brothers will come running.”
Loving the fact that she could drive him to the edge of his control, she looked up at him with big brown eyes and said, “Da, ser.” He was groaning before she even took him into her mouth. She finished him in a few short thrusts and then he was burying his face between her legs, keeping his promise as she screamed at the top of her lungs.
In the end, Ash came bursting through the door as predicted, Hunter following closely behind. By the time Stone was through, she needed to be held, and Ash was right there, happy to serve. He praised her and brought her back to that safe place she often found in his arms. When he finally took her—slowly, thoroughly, with complete control over every aspect of her pleasure—she was incoherent with need. He orchestrated her final release like a symphony, building and backing off until she was sobbing with frustration before finally allowing her to shatter in his arms.
“How do you feel?” Ash asked, gathering her against his chest as aftershocks rippled through her.
“Perfect.” She breathed in the familiar scent of them on her skin. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
Hunter pressed another to her shoulder.
And Stone bit playfully into her thigh.
Their absolute entitlement should have terrified her, should have sent her running toward whatever scraps of freedom she’d managed to claim. A month ago, they would have triggered every defense mechanism she’d built while fighting for autonomy. But after everything she’d experienced—Jordan’s downfall, her father’s rejection, their unwavering protection, the exquisite surrender she’d discovered in their arms—she found herself craving exactly what they provided.
Their fingers lingered over her skin with deliberate intent, skin against skin like electricity seeking ground.
Together, they led her toward a future that promised to be everything she’d never dared to dream. And she realized, through the deepest trust she’d ever known, in her surrender, she found her true worth. Not as their submissive, but as their salvation. Hunter, Stone, and Ash needed her as much as she needed them. Apart, they could be too violent, too cold, too consuming. Separately, they were everything wrong. Together, they were just right.
Epilogue
Gold, Fur, & Fire
Spoiled didn’t begin to describe Marigold’s new life. Being doted on by three powerful men at all times could have that effect.
But it wasn’t just their attention. It was the endless luxury. Her three bears made her feel like a queen every single day she promised she was theirs. And for that, they treasured her above all else.
Her closets were filled with designer clothes. Silk and cashmere, leather and lace, everything in colors that would complement her skin tone. But as beautiful as the day wear was, it was the intimate apparel that made her breath catch.
Lingerie in every style imaginable—delicate lace that would barely cover anything, silk that would cling to every curve, leather pieces that spoke to darker fantasies. And in the back, hanging like promises of things to come, were garments she couldn’t quite categorize. Beautiful restraints that looked like jewelry, corsets that were works of art, things that were clearly meant to enhance rather than conceal.