Page 92

“Sure,” I say, perching on the bed. Wicker is already leaning back on the pillows. “Are you going somewhere?”

He adjusts the sheet covering her cage and stalks over to the windows, checking and rechecking the locks. “I’m just going to keep an eye out. I don’t like that we didn’t catch the son of a bitch who did this. If his body pops up, I want to be the first to spit on it.”

“Thad will call if they find it,” Wicker says, yawning. “Just go to bed.”

He glares at his brother. “Not an option.”

“Pace,” I gesture to the room, “we’re okay. No one got in. All the measures you had set up worked.” His anxiety is making me anxious. “I agree with Wicker, just… come to bed.” It’s an invitation I’m not expecting to give, but when it tumbles free, I let it.

His eyes dart to the mattress at my choice of words, then down to the tablet in his hand. “Why don’t you two sleep, and I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

Wicker and I share a look. Any wariness I might feel about inviting Pace into the bed with us is clearly unnecessary. Wicker makes space.

“Are the alarms set?” I ask.

Pace presses something on the pad. “Of course they are.”

“Is the security team outside?”

“They fucking better be,” he mutters.

I pat the mattress. “Then come lay down.”

His forehead puckers angrily. “I can’t sleep! Someone is out there!”

Stubbornly, I raise my chin. “Then keep watch from here.”

Wicker flips his pillow over and curls on his side, ab muscles clenching with the move. “Come on. There’s a reason Princes sleep with the Princess: to protect her. Get your ass in the bed.”

Pace sighs, turning to survey the bed. I take the opportunity to scoot up next to Wicker, leaving Pace the spot closest to the windows. His dark eyes pass over us before he says, “Fine.” Not even taking his shoes off, he eases onto the edge of the bed, back straight, eyes focused on the screen. “But I’m not sleeping.”

This is the most we’re going to get.

Wicker dims the light, shrouding us in near darkness.

Whatever threat is outside, I know I’m safe.

* * *

I waketo the brash tug of my panties being jerked to the side and the thick fullness of a cock stretching me from the inside. My eyes flick open, and the first thing I see is Wicker sleeping across from me, bare-chested, those long eyelashes soft against his cheeks. His wrist is slung around my waist, and I try not to jostle him while shifting enough for Pace to push in as deep as he can go.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Pace whispers in my ear. “I just needed inside.”

It’s been almost a week since he’s slept in my bed, since he filled me with his body and cum. I’m not sure how to feel about my body accepting him so freely, almost like a warm, comforting blanket.

“What happened last night…” he continues, nose skating up my neck to my ear. His words feel unbearably quiet, as if he’s divulging an unforgivably shameful sin. “If someone hurt you or our baby, I’d lose my fucking mind.”

Wicker’s eyes flutter open suddenly, back arching as he drags himself out of sleep. He’s like that, I’ve noticed, always waking up like he’s forcing it, fighting with himself. It’s not long before his blue eyes lock on me, and then Pace, and then lower, blinking rapidly as he realizes what’s happening.

As he takes in me and his brother, I wait for the tantrum to start; how unfair it is that he’s not getting his dick wet and how utterly deprived he’s been. Poor, cockblocked Whitaker Ashby.

Instead, he stretches on his back and props an arm behind his head, the other dipping into his tight boxer briefs. “She wet?” he asks his brother, stroking up his length.

“Dripping,” Pace replies, perfectly still. My pussy aches, desperate for him to thrust. “She always acts like she’s not into it, but I feel her clench around me at the smallest movement.” His hand travels up the jersey I’m wearing, fingers pinching my nipple. I wince at the sharp stab of pain. “Fuck, just like that.”

“Too much,” I murmur, still wading in the fog of tiredness.

Wicker licks his bottom lip and rolls toward me, temple propped on his fist. “What happens if I do this?” he asks, bending to capture my mouth in a kiss. His tongue sweeps against mine, warm and diligent. My body heats, electricity running across my skin as my tongue seeks his unthinkingly.