Page 50 of Craving Consequences

He settles on hot dogs. It seems like an odd choice when we can’t warm them, but one glance at Lachlan and the pair set to work building a fire in the living room’s hearth.

The ottomans are dragged to the edge, as close as they can get without catching fire and I feel the grin catch the corners of my lips as I watch them skewer the meat on forks and drag them over the fire like a pair of little boys on a camping trip.

I leave them to it. Let them work their method as I drag the Afghan off the back of the armchair and curl up on the sofa.

And just watch them. Watch the firelight bring them to life in a way that feels surreal.

Everything about them is so painfully beautiful.

So ... masculine and raw. I never imagined men like them could exist outside my books and yet I’m in awe of them. Starstruck.

Van is all hard lines and a soft gaze, eyes the liquid silver of mercury as they shift between the flames and his best friend seated next to him.

Shadows stretch down sharp cheeks with every drop of his lashes when he looks down.

In contrast, Lachlan’s face is fully washed in light.

It clings to the dark wisps tumbling over his brow, catching the gold and auburn hidden amongst the strands.

His mouth is bowed in a grin that glints in the warm pools as he tells a story I’m not paying attention to.

It’s hard to believe I get to witness this vulnerability between them.

The ease and comfort they only share with each other.

Like not another soul exists in the world.

I’ve seen it hundreds of times in the past, but it’s different this time.

I don’t have to school my features. I don’t have to worry about Lauren or Bron catching my slip.

I can simply curl up and watch them and fall in love and no one can stop me.

I can commit every detail to memory because this moment will never happen again.

My throat tightens and the good feeling starts to dissipate before I grab hold again. I fist it tight against my chest, reminding myself I still have tonight .

“How many you do want, sweetheart?” Lachlan glances back over his shoulder with his lightly roasted hot dog held aloft for me to see.

I blink, caught off guard.

“One, please,” I murmur, thoughts spilling away.

He returns to roasting the meat over the flames in slow, measured turns.

Van is doing the same on the other side and I continue to watch them with my lip caught between my teeth.

I tug the blanket tighter around my shoulders and twist the frayed edges around my finger.

My nervous fidgeting cuts along my spine as I work up the nerve to unleash the weight of my decision.

“I was wondering,” I blurt, words wavering.

They fail me entirely when both heads pivot back in my direction.

Their full focus now pinned on me. “Would ... I know we said we wouldn’t .

.. anymore. I agree and understand...” I’m beginning to lose my nerve.

I can feel it slipping from between my fingers, so I spit it out.

“Will you stay with me tonight? Just ... one last time?”

Their silence isn’t cold or disgusted. I don’t think they would be. But it feels so long. So infinite when my heart is hammering between my ears.

My mouth does what it always does when panic begins to set in. It starts to vomit a flood of restless words .

“It’s just we won’t get another night like this.

I know once the weekend ends and everything comes out, we might not see each other again and it’s a big ask, I get that.

..” I struggle into a sitting position, suddenly wishing I hadn’t said anything and still unable to stop.

“You can, of course, say no. I will understand—”

Van is the first to move. He sets his roasting fork aside and pushes to his feet. His pale eyes are molten pits in the firelight as they fix me to my spot. Next to him, Lachlan folds his arm, expression a firm line of all the things I can almost see him contemplating.

Neither has yet said a word but they make their way towards me with unhurried steps.

The silent stalk of predators circling their prey.

They stand over me, framed by firelight.

As dominating and tall as the shadows creeping long and heavy behind them.

The air shifts, practically solidifying as they steal every drop until I can’t breathe.

I feel so small and trapped. So pathetically helpless.

I think I should shift higher on the cushion, but moving seems like a reckless risk.

“Did you think you were going to leave here without us having our fun with you, little doe?” Van taunts, the words hot steel in the sun.

“I...” is all I can feebly manage.

Van’s eyes are fixed on mine. Daring me to do something stupid and dangerous ... like run. Lachlan’s is lower, hooked on my lips. Amused and hungry.

“Did you think we wouldn’t take the opportunity to make you scream where no one can hear you?”

Fear and adrenaline course through me with savage excitement. I’m practically vibrating even as my back sinks into the sofa as if trying to put distance between me and the monsters looming over me from the shadows.

“Nothing to say?” Lachlan taunts, head cocking. I can’t see their faces, but their grins are loud in the darkness.

Van circles around to the armrest. Long hand slides along the top edge, trailing just over my head as he bends at the waist. Brushes his ear to my lips.

“We’re going to feed you. Then we’re going to hunt you, little doe.”

I jump when Lachlan’s hand presses on my knee, slides up my thigh, tucks under the blanket.

“Open,” he commands, finger hooking into the crotch of my shorts.

My thighs part obediently, but that doesn’t seem to be what he meant when I’m torn out of my wool cocoon. The throw is chucked to the foot of the sofa and his hands are tearing open my pants.

The denim is ripped down my legs and tossed somewhere over his shoulder. Cool air slices up my damp center, eliciting a sharp gasp that is met with twin snickers from my tormentors .

Van steps away, but I’m too focused on the hands Lachlan curls into my knees to notice his direction, especially when I’m shoved open wide. Exposed to the elements and his ravenous scrutiny.

“House rules,” Lachlan says coolly as he crouches down in front of me, wedging his shoulders high between my thighs.

“No running outside.” His head dips. Lip grazes my naked hip.

“No climbing into anything you’ll hurt yourself or get stuck on.

” He drifts inwards across my pelvis and down. “When we call quits, you’ll come out.”

His lips press over mine. It’s so intimate, so like he’d kiss my mouth, I drop back against the sofa, offering him everything.

I anchor my heels into the edges of the cushion and lift my hips, giving him room to slice his tongue through the folds.

The sweet pressure has my head falling back and my spine arching.

A moan escapes and deepens when he repeats it. Slower.

“Lachlan...” I breathe, one hand lifting to fist in his hair, gripping him to me. Caging him in place as he circles the peak with just the tip of his tongue.

I’m so lost in the sweet, agonizing torment that I don’t notice Van’s return until the cushion dips beside me. I feel the heat of his thigh brushing mine, the weight of him settling against my side. His arm casually drapes around my shoulder, and I’m tucked into place .

“Eat.” The sharp scent of grilled meat invades my senses as he lifts a hot dog to my lips. “You’re going to need your strength.”

The absurdity of being handfed while half naked and getting eaten from below should have been amusing, but Lachlan is flicking in rapid succession and I can’t think. I don’t argue as I do as I’m told.

“Adding to the house rules,” he drawls into my ear. “You can run. You can fight.” His lips skim my pulse. The struggling muscles of my throat trying to swallow the chunk I’d taken of my supper. “You can scream.”

Lachlan groans against me in approval, tongue sweeping deeper, arms caging my hips, keeping me open while his friend’s words coil down my spine.

“You can leave marks.” His teeth sink into my neck.

“We’ll be severely upset if you don’t,” Lachlan counters in between laps. “We want reminders of how hard you fought to resist and still let us fuck you.”

I think a sound escapes me, but I can’t be sure of anything when he draws back, settles on his heels. When Van drags my top up over my breasts and palms the one closest to him.

“Don’t make it easy on us, little doe. Because we won’t.” Van brushes his fingers down my sternum. “We’re going to make sure you feel everything in the morning. Take off your bra. Leave the top.”

I’m trembling too hard to follow the orders fluidly. I miss the clasp several times before it’s unhooked. It’s even more work dragging the straps through my sleeves and sliding the bra free.

Van takes it and tosses it somewhere. Even he doesn’t seem to notice when he’s already back at my chest. Palming and sucking. His mouth is hot and wet dragging across the swell. His tongue sweeps over the peak, tasting my skin before sinking his teeth until my cry splits the air.

The sound seems to fuel something in him. He presses me harder into the cushion, practically falling on top of me as he repeats everything on the other breast.

Lachlan takes that as his cue to return to his home between my legs. He matches his friend’s frenzy hurting and biting. Leaving marks where his teeth sink into the inner flesh of my thigh. Handprints on my hips. Every sting, every burn has me writhing under them, begging them not to stop.

Van sinks his teeth into the side of my breast and sucks. Hard. Branding me as Lachlan does the same to my other thigh.

“You are a terrible prey,” Van growls, grabbing me around the throat — not choking, but with authority — and drags me into his lap like a rag doll. “We’re about to violate and destroy your tight little body and you’re leaking all over the couch. ”

What can I say when they give me no chance to speak.

My wrists are captured and twisted behind my back with his free hand.

Pinned between my back and his abdomen as Lachlan pushes to his feet, fingers at the bands of his sweats.

Within seconds, his cock is free and Van is holding me prisoner as his friend slams inside me.

It’s rough and violent, and tears burn my eyes, but the sheer, beautiful pain of it has my back arching, lifting to take it again.

“Give us a safeword,” Van murmurs, fingers tightening just enough to cut air, to bring a prickle to my lips. “Because we’re not going to be kind to you.”

There are no words in my head as Lachlan uses me. As he digs all ten fingers into my thighs and wrenches them wider to take even more.

“I don’t think she needs a safeword,” he growls through gritted teeth, face tipped down to where he’s ramming into me.

He stops just long enough to pull out and let the firelight catch the thick ropes of my arousal coating every inch of him.

Van groans into the side of my face, a deep, guttural sound that crashes through me. Tightens my core when Lachlan forces his way back in.

“Safeword,” Van snarls like a warning. “You’re going to fucking need it. ”

Panting, desperate for air neither of them is allowing me, I choke out the first word that pops into my head. “Plum.”

The pressure around my wrists ease the same time as the clamp around my throat does. Both hands drop to my breasts. Fingers circle my nipples.

“You have ten seconds before we come for you.” His fingers close around my jaw and twists my face to his, to his mouth cutting into mine. “Hide well, little doe.”

Lachlan pulls out with a low, satisfied curse. His hands stay on my thighs, imprinting his fingertips into my flesh. His chest rises and falls with excitement as he pushes to his full height, cock slick with my heat standing proud between us.

“Ten,” Van begins, fingers loosening around me.

“Nine,” Lachlan adds.

Instinct kicks in, a primal, desperate creature backed into a corner as I scramble out of Van’s lap. Unsteady limbs waver as I struggle to find my weight. Numb fingers drag my top down, the only covering on me before I bolt.

“Eight!”

My heart is chained to live wires, electric currents that pulse with fire and adrenaline. It sets my blood ablaze, a wildfire of excitement and fear that has me pounding in no actual direction.

“Seven! ”

Their voices carry through the house. Over the storm. The crash of my heart slamming into my ribs. This is my house and I have no idea where I’m going. I probably should have put some thought into the direction of my escape, but...

“Six!”

I dart towards the kitchen and pass it through the screen doors and into the sunroom.

The house is unsettling in the dark. When I’m not running for my life, I know to avoid the corner edge between the wicker seat and the low table holding a bowl of loose stones.

Not stab my toe on the leg as I take the corner too closely.

“Five!”

Hissing and hobbling, I shuffle to the second set of doors looping the house together and crash into the mudroom.

My bare feet slap on the floor as I hurry out of the closed space and round the second narrow hall back towards the front of the house.

My plan, as half baked and ridiculous as it is, is to loop around while they’re following me this way.

They have no idea the sunroom has a secondary door leading back into the house.

Or the hall that leads back to the front and the stairs going up.

In all reality, there really aren’t many places to hide and running upstairs is how every idiot dies in horror movies, but I am not hiding in the basement, which is my only other option.

“Four! ”

I reach the end of the corridor and veer left at the foot of the stairs. I take them two at a time, lungs screaming, thighs weak. I can only pray the storm is muffling the creak of floorboards to them because they sound like bombs in my ears.

“Three!”

At the landing, I throw myself down the second-floor hall. My brain spins as I stare at the row of doors, calculating the risks.

They’ll check the first one. It’s the most likely place a person would go. The master suite, too.

Damn it. Should have gone in the basement.

“Two!”

Stifling my squeak, I bolt into the last door at the end. It’s pitch black. Should have been perfect. But I’m stumbling, hands extended, feeling my way forward to the bed.

“One, Everly! Ready or not. Here we come.”