Page 32 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Wren

At first, I was a little disappointed that I only got one orgasm when Elliot promised me multiple. But then he came back to the couch with a plate full of pretzels, cheese, and apple slices, and I swear I melted.

But that’s not even the best part.

No, the best part is that he has me on his lap while he feeds me.

Is it possible to fall in love in four days? Because I think I might be doing just that.

Elliot holds the last apple slice up to my lips, and I bite into it, taking half. He pops the rest into his mouth, trailing his fingers down my spine.

Settling against him, I inhale his sandalwood and citrus scent. “You always smell so good.”

He replies with a chuckle and a kiss on my forehead. “You full?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmurs. Then he stands, cradling me to his chest and carrying me through the apartment.

“What are you doing?”

“I believe I promised you multiple orgasms, did I not?”

There isn’t a single thing that can stop the smile spreading over my face. “I was wondering about that.”

In my room, he sets me on the bed. “Clothes off, then get on your knees.”

I shiver, following his commands without a second thought. Once I’m in position, he takes me in with a satisfied expression. Then he crawls onto the bed and kisses me, his hands cradling my face.

Slipping my fingers under his shirt, I tug it up until he pulls it over his head. Before I even realize what I’m doing, my lips are on his hot skin, pressing kisses to his tattoos. I linger over the butterfly on his ribcage for a second, remembering our conversation the other night about Rhett’s little sister.

She meant the world to all of us.

“Wren,” he groans as my lips trail down his stomach. He pulls me up. “Don’t distract me.”

Before I can protest, he’s lowered himself onto the mattress. He flips over onto his back, tugging me forward a bit. Then his hands are on my hips, forcing me to lower myself onto his face.

He groans, pressing a kiss to my clit before sucking on it. I cry out, falling forward but managing to catch myself. My hands fist the blankets as his tongue caresses me lightly, gently.

“Elliot,” I pant. “More. Please.”

With a low laugh that vibrates through me, he adds more pressure, circling my clit. I moan, so he continues just like that, letting out a sound of lustful appreciation. And with every noise I make, his enthusiasm grows.

Any time a man has eaten me out, I’ve always doubted whether they enjoyed it. I know Adam never did, since he always avoided doing it. But with Elliot—hell, with all three of these men—there’s no doubt in my mind. It almost feels like they enjoy it as much as I do.

It’s… freeing.

I rest my head on his thigh, and he grunts, his grip on my hips tightening. He’s hard, his dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

That can’t be comfortable.

Balancing myself with one hand, I use the other to undo the button of his pants. When I slide the zipper down, he stops.

“This is about you, Wren. Not me.”

“Maybe I want this. As long as you want it, too.”

With a squeeze to one of my thighs, he says, “There’s no way I wouldn’t.”

It’s difficult to push his clothes down enough to get his cock out, especially when he sucks my clit into his mouth, but I manage after a minute. Then I press a kiss to his hip bone before swirling my tongue around his tip. As I take him into my mouth, he groans, and it sends a rush of enthusiasm through me.

I move up and down gently, sucking lightly. My thoughts are hazy and slow, my focus split between the sparks of pleasure coursing through me and the way Elliot feels in my mouth.

After a few minutes, he thrusts into me, hitting the back of my throat. He swears, doing it again, his hands on my legs tightening.

“No,” I say, grabbing onto his hips. “I want to take my time. Please?”

He gives me a long, slow lick. “You don’t have to beg, love. I’m pretty sure I’d let you do anything you wanted to me.” Then he goes back to sucking my clit, sending a shudder through me.

It doesn’t take long before I’m close to coming again. With the way he’s sucking and moving his tongue, there’s no way I can last.

“Elliot,” I gasp, popping his cock out of my mouth. I stroke him with my hand. “Oooh god,” I say when he picks up his pace with his tongue.

My eyes slide closed, and it’s all I can do to keep my hand moving as my orgasm hits. As I cry out, I bury my face in his thigh to muffle the sound. He lets up, pressing gentle kisses to my skin.

I go back to sucking his dick, taking as much of him in as I can without gagging. He doesn’t try to take control, just lets out a series of groans. Then I feel him touching me, his fingers lightly brushing over my entrance.

“Shit, love. You’re getting even wetter. Does this turn you on?”

“Mmhmm,” I moan into his dick, cupping his balls. I’m enjoying this too much to stop.

“Fuck.”

It’s the only warning I get, but the way he says it—strained and breathless—is enough of an indicator. I swallow his cum, making sure not to miss a drop, until his body goes limp under me.

Crawling off of him, I give him a grin and lick my lips.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, panting.

“Do what?”

“Muffle your cries when you come. I love the way you sound. And I want to hear you scream my name.”

“But—but my neighbors will hear.”

“Good.” He sits up, pulling me closer and kissing me. “Then everyone will know who’s giving you pleasure.”

My mouth drops open, and he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. His eyes are still clouded over with want, and they drop to my body, taking in my breasts, my stomach, my legs.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “One more.”

He nips at my neck before running his lips down to my collarbones. Then he pushes me onto the bed so I’m on my back and he’s hovering over me. I reach out to touch his arms, but he grabs my wrists and pins them to the mattress. With an appreciative sound, he leans down and licks one of my nipples.

As a whimper escapes my mouth, I arch my back.

“Did Adam ever make you scream, love?”

“Once or twice,” I say on a breathy exhale, quickly followed by a moan when he sucks on my nipple.

“Are you going to scream for me?”

I giggle. “I think that depends on how good you make it.”

“Oh, love. You just wait.” He swirls his tongue in a torturously pleasurable way that has me squirming and moaning. When he switches to my other nipple, I’m pretty sure I’m so wet that I’m soaking the sheets beneath me.

Finally—finally—he rolls off of me, settling on his side next to me. He leans on his elbow, trailing his fingers down my body until I’m shuddering at his feather-light touch.

All on its own, one of my hands reaches down so I can find some relief, but he grabs it.

“Just because I let go of your wrists doesn’t mean you can move them, Wren. They stay on the bed or I’ll stop.”

With a little gasp, I let my arm fall down, fisting the sheets instead.

He kisses the tip of my nose. “Good girl.” And with that, one of his fingers brushes over my entrance, feeling how wet I am, before circling my clit.

“Say it again,” I whisper. “Please. Please, Elliot.”

He smirks. “I will. After you scream my name loud enough that everyone in the building hears.”

Groaning, I shut my eyes, focusing on the way he’s touching me. His mouth goes back to sucking on one of my nipples, and all of a sudden it feels like I could come really, really quickly.

I grip the blankets. “Oh god, Elliot, I’m so close.”

He slows his finger, and I feel the beginnings of my orgasm slipping away. When I open my eyes, he gives me a devilish grin, slowly licking around my nipple.

“No,” I whimper.

“You’ll come when I say you can, love, and not a moment sooner.”

Then he’s back to circling my clit with his finger. Three more times, he brings me close to the edge, just to let it fade away again. By the fourth, I’m practically sobbing and begging him to let me come.

When he nods, finally giving me the permission I need, I fall so fast and so hard that it feels like I disconnect with reality for a moment. The scream is ripped from my throat, but I’m barely conscious of it.

When I come down, Elliot is watching me with a smile on his face. “Mesmerizing,” he murmurs. “Absolutely mesmerizing. Such a good girl.”

He kisses me, and my lips move against his sloppily. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he eats it up, wrapping me in his arms like he can’t get enough of me.

When he pulls away, I gasp in a breath, clutching his arms.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Although I’m not sure if it’s because of the orgasms or the pain meds.”

“I don’t care what the reason is, as long as you’re in less pain.” Sitting up, he pulls me with him. “Go pee. I’m going to get you some water.”

In the bathroom, I glimpse myself in the mirror. After going about my business, I do my best to fix my messed-up hair and wipe the wild-eyed look off my face.

By the time I get back to the bedroom, I’ve caught my breath. Elliot is on the bed, still shirtless, propped up against the headboard.

“Come here,” he says, patting the mattress beside him.

I do, slipping under the covers with him.

“Drink.”

With a grateful smile, I take the mug from his hands and gulp down the water. Then he sets it on the nightstand and pulls me close.

I relax into him. How did I stumble across three men who make me feel so goddamned cared for? It feels too good to be true.

“Tell me about the three of you,” I say quietly, running my fingers up and down his bare torso.

“What do you want to know?”

“Oliver told me a little about your relationship. You met in high school? Did you all fall for each other quickly?”

He laughs, a deep and soothing sound. “No. We were close since freshman year, though. I was the only one who knew my sexuality at that point. Rhett was vaguely aware that he wasn’t just attracted to women, and Oliver… He fell first. And stayed in denial for the longest.”

“Denial?”

“Mmhmm. Dated girl after girl for most of high school. But we all knew how he really felt. Even if he was trying to hide it from himself, too.”

“Did you and Rhett get together first? Without Oliver?”

Elliot shakes his head. “No. Junior year, I finally admitted my feelings to them. Rhett and I talked about dating, but we both agreed to wait for Oliver. It just didn’t feel right without him. He came around early senior year. After Sammy was killed, we all needed each other too much, and Oliver couldn’t keep up the lie when we were all in so much pain.”

Sammy. That must be Rhett’s little sister.

“Was it hard? Seeing him in denial?”

For a moment, Elliot’s silent. Then he sighs. “It was heartbreaking. He’s always struggled with being confident in who he is, even though he’s… god, Wren. He’s fucking amazing. You don’t even know the half of it.

“I think he was scared to mess things up since we were so close. But when he finally admitted he was as in love with us as we were with him, it was like this huge weight came off his shoulders. We were all still mourning Sammy, but at least he didn’t have that holding him down too, you know?”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I never would’ve realized. Oliver acts so confident. And carefree.”

“He’s done a lot of work to accept himself.” Elliot squeezes my arm. “And he’s always been the fun one, so I guess you could call him carefree.”

“I think you’re all fun.” With a smile, I look up at him. His expression is pensive, like he’s lost in memories and only half here.

Then his gaze meets mine. “I bet you do,” he murmurs before leaning down to kiss me.

There are still things I want to know about them, and Elliot seems happy to answer my questions, so I ask another one. “Oliver told me you’ve all been with other people. While you were with each other?”

He nods. “We used to have an open relationship. It was important to us, I think. We’ve always been committed to each other, but we all value our independence. We don’t own each other. So seeing other people just… felt natural, I guess. Of course, we had boundaries. And we always made sure to prioritize each other, too.”

“But you’re not in an open relationship anymore?”

Elliot shakes his head. “What we do takes a lot of time and energy. And it’s not always safe. Dating other people was fun, but we never found someone we were sure we could trust with every part of our lives. And it got to the point where we needed to focus on the three of us.

“Being with two partners is already a lot. It wasn’t fair to the other people we were seeing, because we couldn’t give them the attention they deserved. Especially when Oliver was dealing with some… mental health problems. And for me, personally, I never met someone who made me feel the way I do about Oliver and Rhett. So we closed things off. And that’s how we’ve stayed since.”

I wonder what mental health problems he’s referencing, but I figure Elliot isn’t who I should hear that from. Instead, I say, “Oliver told me you’ve never shared someone before.”

Elliot smiles down at me. “He wasn’t lying. None of us have ever been attracted to the same person the way we are with you.”

I open my mouth, but then I close it. Do I desperately want to know why they’re all attracted to me? Absolutely. But I don’t want to fish for compliments when, in my opinion, I just got a pretty good one.

“You know how to make a girl feel special,” I say.

He chuckles, kissing the top of my head.

With a sigh, I snuggle closer to him. He traces his fingers up and down my arm, and we fall into a comfortable silence. He’s so warm and comfy. So… safe.

After a few minutes, my eyelids begin to droop, and my head drops farther on his chest. “I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I’m always so… tired… on the first day.”

He strokes my hair, pushing it back from my face. Then he pulls the blankets over me. “It’s okay, love. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

I moan. And then, with his words reassuring me, I drift off within seconds.

I don’t stay out for long. Thirty minutes, I think. Maybe a little longer. I groan, trying to roll over, but find myself still curled up in Elliot’s arms.

“Hey.” He kisses the top of my head. “I texted Rhett to come get me. We have some work to do tonight, and you need to rest.”

“But…” I let the word hang in the air.

But what?

But I don’t want you to leave.

But I don’t want to sleep alone.

“It’s for the best, love.” As he says it, he smooths a hand down my back. “We have a lot of work to do tomorrow, but after that, we have a little break. Trust me, we’ll make sure we see you before the week is over. Okay?”

“I’d like that,” I whisper.

His phone vibrates, and he glances at the screen. “Rhett’s here.”

I make a move to get up, but he places a hand on my shoulder. “Stay in bed. I’ll turn off the lights and make sure your front door is locked.”

“Thank you.”

He gets up, plants a lingering kiss on my head, and moves toward the door.

“Wait. Elliot?”

“Hmm?”

“I really like you. Like, really really like you.”

With a soft smile, he says, “I really really like you too, Wren.”

And then he’s gone. I barely hear the sound of the front door closing behind him. The last thought I have before falling asleep again is that for the first time in a while, I finally feel… happy.

***

Unfortunately, that happy feeling doesn’t last.

It would’ve been enough to get me through work if I didn’t wake up to a text from my mom saying she’s going to be in town for the next few days. And that she wants to meet for dinner tonight.

My shift goes by way too fast, and before I know it, I’m saying goodbye to Ava and trudging home. Going out with my mom is the last thing I want to do, especially since she’ll probably harass me about Adam again, but how am I supposed to say no?

At least she said she’s alone. I refuse to be in the same room as my stepdad. Not after…

I shiver. Don’t think about it, Wren. Don’t do that to yourself.

Once I’m home, I go through my post-work routine of showering, lotioning up, scrolling through my phone until I have the energy to get up, and then scrounging around in the kitchen for a snack.

All it does is remind me that I need to get myself some dishes. And potentially a roommate. No. No, moving into a smaller apartment is the better bet, I think. Or maybe I could get a job in graphic design that pays better.

Could I? Could I actually do it?

I’d probably have to make myself a portfolio, but that’s simple enough. I can work on it here and there in my free time. But would that do? I only have a minor in graphic design, since I majored in English. But at least I have a college degree, so companies won’t turn me down because of a lack of one.

Before I know it, I’m scrolling through job ads for graphic designers in Philadelphia. I don’t have a car, but there are enough public transportation options here that I’d be fine.

I bookmark a few promising jobs, and then I get ready for dinner, pulling on a dark pair of jeans and a pretty shirt. My mom chose a nice restaurant, which is odd considering she hates spending money, but whatever.

I put on more makeup than normal, knowing if I don’t my mom will make some kind of comment about how I’ve let myself go. Then I give myself a once-over in the mirror, wishing I was going out with Ava or the guys.

The restaurant—some place called the Garden Grille—isn’t too far away by subway, especially since I bring a book to read during the ride. Far too soon, I’m walking through the front doors, texting my mom to let her know that I’m here.

Turns out, though, I don’t need to bother. The second I walk up to the hostess stand, I spot my mom, and my stomach drops to the floor.

She’s not alone.

Adam’s parents, Mary Anne and Robert, sit at the table with my mom, my stepdad, and…

Adam.

For a moment, I’m frozen to the ground, my heart in my throat. They’re all chatting away, smiling at each other, except for Adam. His face is bruised, and one of his arms is in a sling. It takes me a second to remember that Rhett and Oliver are the ones who did that to him.

Without realizing, I take a step backward. Get out of here. Get out of here before they see you. Whatever mom has planned, it’s not—

I bump into someone, almost losing my balance before I right myself. “Sorry—”

“Watch where you’re going, young lady,” a man snaps loudly. Too loudly.

It barely registers in my mind that the man I just ran into is Edgar Williams, a well-known businessman in the area. Because the next thing I know, my stepdad is out of his seat and walking toward me.

No. What the hell is he doing here? Mom said she was alone.

“Hello, Thomas,” I say tightly as he approaches.

“Wren.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, pushing me forward. I elbow him in the gut. He grunts.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you piece of shit.” Shoving his arm off me, I march to the table and glare at my mother. “What the hell is going on? I thought this was just supposed to be you and me.”

“Well hi, honey. Nice to see you too.” My mom stands and pulls me into a hug. “We’re all just worried about you. We want to make sure you’re not going to regret your… life choices.”

I pull away. “This is an intervention?”

“Well…”

Oh. my. god.

“No. No, I’m not doing this.” With a shake of my head, I turn to go, but Thomas is blocking my path. “Seriously?”

“Sit down,” he snaps. His arms are crossed over his chest, his face set with hard determination. If I was ten years younger, it’d have me quivering and obeying every single one of his commands.

Now? Fuck him.

I match his stance, leveling him with my own glare. “Typical. Going straight for intimidation tactics. I’m a fucking adult, Thomas. You have no authority over me.”

“Sweetie,” Robert says, turning in his chair to face me. “Please don’t make a scene. We’re genuinely concerned. I know it feels like an ambush, but it’s not, I promise.” Then he cuts Thomas a look. “Back off, Tom. You’re not helping.”

“Wren.” My mom tugs on my arm. “Please?”

“Fine,” I grit out. I plop into the seat next to Adam, scooching my chair closer to him since the empty chair on the other side belongs to Thomas. Adam sucks, but my stepdad is worse.

“Great,” my mom says, giving the table a tight smile. “Wren, I ordered you a sugar-free lemonade. They have a great selection of salads here.”

“Patricia,” Robert murmurs, his eyes flaring wide in shock. As if her trying to make sure I watch my weight is new.

I flip open my menu. “Oh, wow, lots of pasta dishes, too. I think I’ll go with one of those.”

She gives me an exasperated look, but I don’t care. If she’s going to pull this on me, you’d better bet I’m going to give her shit for it.

When our server comes, we all order, and Robert and Thomas start up some small talk. Mary Anne tells my mom all about the garden she’s planning on planting this summer, and Adam and I sit in uncomfortable silence.

I refuse to look at him, ignoring everyone once the food comes and diving into my cheesy plate of pasta.

It’s not until we’ve all finished that everyone starts glancing at me nervously. Robert takes a sip of his drink before tugging at his tie.

I sigh. “Let’s just get this over with. Lay it on me.”

My mom gives me a horrified look. “That’s no way to treat this! You need to drop the attitude. We’re trying to help you.”

I wave a hand around carelessly, slumping against the back of my chair. “So help.”

Thomas clears his throat. “Wren, we all think you’re confused. You and Adam were so happy together the last time we saw you. Talking about getting married and having kids, and you’d stay home and raise them—”

“As a woman should,” my mom mutters.

“—while Adam takes care of and provides for the family. He’s almost done with graduate school, and with Robert’s connections, he’s well on his way to a promising career.”

“Maybe I want a promising career.”

“Is there something wrong with staying home to raise children?” my mom snaps. “Honestly, Wren. I’m offended.”

“I never said there was. But maybe that’s not what I want.”

Do I even want kids? I’m not sure.

“Who’s putting these ideas in your head? Darling, you said you were excited to have children.”

I pause. My hands close into fists under the table. Once upon a time, I thought I was on board with marrying Adam and raising our kids. But before him, what I wanted was so different.

As I look at the concerned group around the table, I’m forced to face the realization I had yesterday. The one I’ve been avoiding. The one that terrifies me and has me so stupidly disappointed in myself at the same time.

Instead of staying true to myself and sticking with the future I dreamed up for myself, I abandoned it the second I got into a serious relationship. Even worse, I shaped myself into the woman Adam wanted and somehow fooled myself into thinking I was happy with that.

I wasted three years of my life. Three years. And I completely abandoned myself in the process.

“Maybe you’re the ones who put ideas in my head,” I say under my breath.

“What?” my mom says.

“Nothing. Look, I’m still young, Mom. I have plenty of time to figure out my life.”

“You’re twenty-four! Who knows how long it’ll take you to find another man? Adam is here, and he loves you.”

“She’s already found three,” Adam murmurs, low enough that only I hear him.

For the first time since I sat down, I turn and look at him. The man who cheated on me. Who threw a mug at my head. Who made me feel undesirable. This is what I’m supposed to want?

My thoughts must be written all over my face, because Adam looks nervous as hell. With his free hand, he reaches out and touches my arm. I flinch.

“Wren, I know we weren’t perfect. I know I’m not perfect. But I love you, and I know you love me. We can work through our issues.”

“I don’t want to,” I say flatly.

His hand falls to the table. “But—”

“No! Absolutely not. You know what you did, Adam. You don’t deserve me.” I roll my eyes at my mom’s and Mary Anne’s gasps. “I’m not confused, okay? I’m finally getting back to who I am. You just don’t like it because I’m not trying to be who you all want me to be. But guess what, Adam? I’m not your type. And you are definitely not mine.”

“Wren!” Mary Anne exclaims.

But I pay her little attention. Tossing my napkin on the table, I stand and grab my bag. “I’m done. None of you are here because you’re worried about me. You’re just trying to control me. Let me be who I am.”

Then I’m heading toward the door, making sure to avoid Williams, who’s also on his way out.

My mom calls after me.

I don’t even look back.

Once I’m outside, I round the building. If I cut through the alley next to the restaurant, I can get to my subway stop faster. All I care about right now is getting out of here.

The alleyway is icy, but I managed it just fine on the way here. I go slowly, not wanting to slip and fall.

Maybe I’m too focused on watching my steps. Or maybe my mind is reeling from that ridiculous intervention.

Whatever the reason, I don’t hear the footsteps behind me until it’s too late, and a hand reaches out and grabs my arm.