Page 18 of Don’t Hate Me (Secrets of Ravens Hollow #2)

Even though Orlando sent me back to his bedroom alone after he lost it in the lighthouse tower, I can still feel the erratic tension in the air.

For a while I stared out the window, watching as the sky changed from the inky blue of the night to pale pinks and oranges as the sun slowly came up.

I’m kind of grateful he locked me in his bedroom alone so I could get myself in check.

This morning got out of hand. I probably shouldn’t have pushed him so far, but I could see he was keeping shit from me, and I wanted to know what it is.

That room is all sorts of fucked up, and I’m surprised he showed it to me.

Either he doesn’t realize how bad it is, or he doesn’t care and he wanted me to see the real him. Both thoughts are equally disturbing.

He’s more confusing than the other three combined, and I have no idea why I’m placing him in the same category. But after what he said this morning, I know that’s exactly what he wants.

He wants me to himself and for the other boys to suffer like he thinks he has.

Really, it’s all his fault. If he hadn’t been stalking me, he wouldn’t have seen me with the three of them and had to be so damn jealous.

But somewhere in his fucked-up brain, he’s confused it all. He’s made them the enemy.

With a heavy sigh, I grab for the stack of books resting on my nightstand.

With not much else to do around here, I finished the first one yesterday.

I need to pick something new if I’m going to make it through today with no work or word from the boys.

Even with my medication now, I feel like I’m going crazy just from being locked up.

I want my chaotic life back, my girls and all the drama that comes with working with so many women.

I wonder what they’re doing, if they’re thinking about me. I’m sure Myriah and Sally would be.

The reverse-harem book Orlando chose for me is on top of the stack, staring back at me, taunting me to open its cover.

I’m curious how it all works, but even more inquisitive that he wanted me to know how it works.

He wants me to himself, he’s made no secret of it.

So why would he want me to read a book like this and get ideas in my head?

I grab an extra pillow from his side and prop it under my head, then open the cover, curiosity getting the better of me.

I skim over the first chapter, meeting the main female character.

Blue-eyed brunette Cynthia Sinclair comes across as a bit of a damsel in destress, on the run from her abusive ex-boyfriend, but deep down I can already tell she’s going to be a total badass.

To escape him she stole his gun and car in the middle of the night. Definitely a badass move.

When she stops her car at a gas station in the middle of nowhere, she finds herself witness to a murder.

A couple of thugs shooting some dude in the head.

Scared, she tries to make a run for it back to her stolen vehicle before the men in dark suits spot her, but it’s too late, and the two of them turn their attention on her.

I lose myself in the story, and for the next couple of hours I keep reading, undisturbed by Orlando.

Grateful for the space, I make myself comfortable.

After Cynthia was abducted by the hot men in suits, she ends up back at their mansion, the two of them turning her over to their boss for him to decide what to do with her.

Turns out the beautiful and innocent-looking Cythia captivates all of their attentions.

They demand to know who hurt her, and when she won’t tell them, they decide to keep her.

Tell her they are keeping her safe. It’s that part of the story that makes me think Orlando has read this one, that and the fact the spine is slightly broken. I can’t imagine it, but someone has.

Cynthia fights all three mafia men, finding out they are brothers, but she eventually starts to see them for who they really are, not the thugs she originally thought.

And then the steam starts, and my mouth drops open as I read about how all three of them take her at the same time.

One of them, Rhett, she sucks off, while Dominic the boss fucks her pussy, while the other, Mason, takes her in the ass.

I feel the heat radiating off my cheeks, and my lady parts throb with excitement.

As I read on, moisture pools between my legs.

This is the hottest scene I have ever read.

I would do just about anything to deal with the throbbing between my legs. I know one of Orlando’s rules is don’t touch myself, but that rule is just plain ridiculous. It’s my body, I do what I want with it. The visual Cynthia has painted for me is too much to take without getting some relief.

All I can think about is, is this what it would be like with the boys?

I mean, I know it was hot when Reef and Romeo took turns in screwing me.

And I enjoyed sucking Romeo’s cock while Reef was fucking me on the kitchen counter.

It was also insanely hot when Onyx watched me and Romeo together.

Adding a third could be exciting. Would Onyx even be up for it?

He’s not the kind to share. Why do I hope so?

My eyes flutter shut as I picture us all together, my hand slipping over my stomach and down under my now drenched panties as I see all of them come into view.

Onyx grips my face as he fucks my mouth with his cock, his dark eyes filled with fire and dominance in a way that makes my heart do a little happy dance.

Fuck, I would do anything to see that look again.

He’s a controlling asshole, but he’s my controlling asshole, and I miss him like crazy.

Reef lies under me, placing delicate kisses down my neck as he pumps in and out of my pussy, his thick cock filling me in the most delicious way.

I feel the way he adores me in every touch of his lips and the way he looks up at me as if I’m his whole world, his shaggy hair just hanging over his eyes.

Romeo also makes his presence known, thrusting into me from behind as he strokes his hand down my back, telling me what a good girl I am opening up for him, as he pushes his cock deep inside my ass.

I groan at the thought. Rubbing over my most sensitive spot, I imagine it’s them. All of them together. And it’s all real. Heat radiates off my body as a new wave of arousal comes over me, making my breath catch in my chest and my nipples grow impossibly hard.

I reach for one of my tits, imagining it’s Reef playing with me, toying with my nipple in the most torturous way.

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

Someone else’s hand runs up my arm, sending goosebumps in its wake, and I feel a kiss being placed to my shoulder.

Then I smell it, the scent of chamomile and lavender, and I know it’s not just the three of them.

Orlando is here in my fantasy with us as well.

My body erupts, my pussy tightening then convulsing in waves of pleasure as I keep rubbing over my clit frantically, a moan of pleasure escaping my lips as I cum in a rush.

Oh fuck. That was dirty and exciting and obviously just some fucked-up fantasy. But I feel so alive, my entire body tingling. I want that. I want them. As quickly as my euphoria took hold, it vanishes as the pain in my chest returns. I miss them so much it hurts.

The door to Orlando’s room abruptly opens, and I quickly pull my hand free, grabbing hold of my book to hide what I was really doing. My heart kicks up a beat in fear of his retaliation.

Orlando looks me over, his lips twisting. “What are you reading?” he asks, his voice light and pleasant.

I close the book and set it on the nightstand with the others.

“Just one of those stupid books you gave me yesterday.” I raise a brow and purse my lips.

“It’s ridiculous. No girl would ever…” I stop talking when he walks toward me, amusement dancing in his eyes.

When he left me here, I thought he was annoyed with me, or maybe himself, but obviously, he’s had time to calm down now.

And that damn playful look is back on his face.

“No girl would ever what, Sloane?” His face taunts me to give him another little piece of myself.

I sit up a little straighter, trying to stop the need he arouses in me. “Would ever want four men manhandling her at the same time.” The words leave my lips as a warning, but if he did read that book, he will know there were only three of them and I’m really warning him away from me.

His gaze burns across my skin, the intense heat in his eyes making my heart race even faster.

“Breakfast will be served in ten minutes. Did you want a shower to cool off first or you good?” He tilts his head to the side, and I don’t miss the way his fists ball then flex as if he’s trying to keep himself under control.

“I’m good,” I snip, not sure what he’s referring to.

“Is there something you need to tell me, Sloane.” In the silence of the room, I hear his neck not so subtly crack.

I bite into my bottom lip. I know what that look is. He was fucking watching me, and he wants me to come clean. “Nope. You got anything you need to tell me?” I throw his question back at him. Fucking creeper.

His finger caresses the side of my face, then his whole hand moves to grip my chin. “You know how important trust is to me, don’t you, Sloane.”

I stare back up at him, tilting my chin defiantly. “Just as important as it is to me. And while you continue to watch me and record me without my consent, I will never trust you or tell you what you want to hear.”

He closes the gap between our bodies, his knee coming to the bed. His chest is so close to mine I can feel the heat radiating off him. His eye twitches as he meets my gaze head on. “Do you want to be punished?”

Oh fuck, why does that question make me wet? “I think you have punished me enough,” I spit back, not giving away the desire he arouses in me. “I’m locked up, stuck with you twenty-four-seven, unable to work or see the people I care about. Can’t get much worse.”

A bitter laugh, harsh and edged with pain, escapes him, making him sound like the evil motherfucker I know he is. “You do want to be punished.”

“No?” I rasp, but it comes out as more of a question. What the fuck is he going to do now?

“Go have a shower, Sloane. I will see you at the dining table in ten minutes.” He takes my hand, the one I used to pleasure myself with, and sucks my fingers into his mouth.

My breath hitches as his eyes dance with delight when he tastes my juices.

He releases my fingers with a pop. “That will give me enough time to come up with something devilishly good to punish you with, for playing with yourself this morning.”

I blink back at him, heat pooling between my legs all over again.

Why does the way he says it turn me on? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Have I been locked up with him too long and I’m looking for any sort of entertainment, even if it’s him fucking with me?

That’s the only explanation for the way my heart races for him.