Page 63 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Wren

I take the week off from work. My boss isn’t too happy about it, but I tell her it’s a family emergency and I don’t have a choice. Hopefully that doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass later.

We barely leave the house. The guys make sure I get enough to eat and drink, and Rhett refuses to let me have coffee until the doctor declares me re-hydrated. Oliver lets me have a few sips of his while Rhett isn’t looking, though.

None of them push me about sex. Hell, they don’t even mention it. Oliver explained how I’m feeling to Elliot and Rhett so I wouldn’t have to hash it all out again, and they understand completely.

After a few days, I’m feeling much more like myself. My headache is gone, my stomach is back to normal, and I’m not feeling dizzy anymore.

Emotionally, I’m still unsteady. I’m having nightmares every night, although I never wake up alone. And at least once a day, I have to remind myself that I’m not trapped in that room anymore, waiting to die.

I think it’s why I haven’t dealt with the whole Jordan situation yet. After I froze up Sunday morning when I went to feed him, I haven’t gone into his room. The guys have kept giving him food, which they’re not happy about, but they’re not pushing back against my wishes.

The guys haven’t pressured me to put an end to Jordan’s misery. They’re letting me take this at my own pace. When Rhett kills Jordan for me, I don’t want to feel weak and small. I want to feel strong. Because when Jordan dies, I want him to know that this isn’t just the guys’ anger. It’s mine, too. I’m the one who wants him dead. This is me taking my power back, as Oliver put it. I have a feeling I’m going to be doing a lot of that lately.

In fact, it’s what I’m about to do right now. I’ve spent a couple days thinking about what Oliver and I talked about, and my idea has solidified into a full-fledged plan. The first step is to talk to Elliot.

I find him in his office. He’s sitting at his desk, staring at a spreadsheet on his computer that looks like the one Rhett had pulled up the other day.

“Ell?”

He looks up. “Hey, love. Need something?”

I nod. “Um. Ropes?”

Frowning, he says, “For Jordan? He’s already restrained.”

“No, for… Oliver.” I can feel heat rushing through me as I say it.

With a chuckle, he stands and takes my hand. “He’ll like that.”

In his room, Elliot pulls out a variety of ropes for me. I take what I’m pretty sure I need, gathering them up in my arms. Before I can go, Elliot stops me.

“I know Oliver wouldn’t force you into anything. But are you feeling pressured?” He cups my chin, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “You don’t have to have sex if you’re not ready to yet.”

“Not feeling pressured.” I lean into his palm. “But I’m not going to sit around and wait until I maybe feel comfortable again. I’m going to figure out what I need and take things at my own pace. And Oliver is going to help me. If I need to stop, I will.”

Elliot smiles. “That’s my girl.”

His praise warms my heart, and I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. “I’ll see you when we’re done.”

I don’t bother trying to look through the whole house to find Oliver. He got back from a makeup lunch with his mom about an hour ago, so he could be anywhere. I shoot him a text, and he tells me he’s in the living room. When I step into the room, I see him on the couch facing away from me.

“I know what I need,” I say.

Oliver turns, and his gaze sweeps over the ropes in my arms as a slow grin takes over his face. “Every day, I find yet another similarity between you and Ell.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Oh, definitely. I’m in love with the man, after all.” He gets up and comes around the couch so he’s standing in front of me. “You’re sure you’re ready?”

I want to feel strong.

“I’m positive.”

He gestures to the rope. “Explain your thought process here. I’m curious.”

“It’s about power,” I say. “Power and control.”

He nods slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Okay.”

“My issue is with vulnerability, right? With feeling too exposed or too human or too unsafe. But if I feel like I’m in charge, I think a lot of that will fade.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m following.”

“I don’t want you to touch me without my permission. And I want you to do what I say. I want to have all the power this time. As long as that’s okay with you.”

“Wren,” he murmurs, “it’d be an honor. And a dream come true, but that’s beside the point.”

I smile. “Then let’s go.”

In Oliver’s room, I lay out all the ropes on his dresser. Nervousness curls in my belly as I turn to face him.

“Um. I’ve never done this before. Been… in control.”

“Never wanted to until now?”

“No, I have, I just…” I grimace. The last thing I want to do is bring up Adam and my family, but there are so many things from my past that are still affecting me.

“Just what, princess?” Oliver squeezes my hand reassuringly.

“Adam didn’t like that I wanted to be in control. I think I made him feel emasculated or whatever.”

“Well, Adam is a stupid fuck.”

I giggle. “He is. But I still have him in the back of my mind, you know? I’m afraid of getting shot down, or of doing a bad job and being a failure. I know it’s stupid. And I know the three of you would never be judgmental or impatient or make fun of me. But…”

“It’s the type of thing he would do,” Oliver finishes softly.

I nod. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t know how to get past the anxiety.”

Oliver laughs. “I understand that better than most.”

“I know,” I murmur.

“Do you know what you need to feel comfortable? Is it reassurance? Because I won’t make fun of you. And, just to be clear, I’m not expecting you to dom in the way Ell does—or in the way Rhett does. I want to see how you take charge. And I’m here with you every step of the way while you figure that out.”

“I don’t want to call you names or be mean to you. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like that.”

“You don’t have to do anything that’d make you uncomfortable, princess.”

“And I don’t want to take all my clothes off. I—I have something I’d like to wear.”

“Whatever you need,” he whispers, taking my hands in his.

Oliver’s tone is so gentle and reassuring that I can’t help but relax into him. After a quick kiss, I head into the bathroom and get changed. I’m nervous, but I’m also excited.

Before stepping back into the bedroom, I check myself in the mirror, admiring the dark red babydoll nightgown and matching panties I chose. It opens in the front, revealing my stomach and kissing the tops of my thighs. It makes me feel pretty and confident while still covering enough skin that I don’t feel overexposed.

Part of me thinks it’s silly that I don’t want to be completely naked in front of Oliver, but I can’t help the way I feel. I trust him—I trust all three of the guys. But I’m just not ready yet.

“Baby steps,” I whisper to myself. Then I open the door.

Oliver smiles when he sees me. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back with his hands on the mattress. “Absolutely beautiful.”

I stifle the nervous giggles that threaten to overtake me. When Oliver stands and starts moving toward me, I blurt out, “Wait.”

He stops, backing up until his legs hit the bed. “Did you change your mind?”

I swallow hard. Shake my head.

“Okay. You know you can, right? You have all the power, princess.”

“I know,” I whisper.

He smiles, waiting patiently, and I realize he’s undone the top buttons on his shirt. His butterfly tattoo is just peeking through the opening, and it’s sexy as hell.

I almost laugh. This man—this hot-as-hell, strong, ruthless man is submitting to me. Me.

You have all the power, princess.

Rolling back my shoulders, I clear my throat. Oliver raises an eyebrow in anticipation.

“Crawl to me.”

Lust ignites in Oliver’s eyes as he lowers himself to his knees. Slowly, he crawls to me, holding my gaze as he makes his way across the carpeted floor. His immediate obedience helps me relax, and the sight of him in this position has my heart beating in an erratic pattern.

He stops at my feet, staring up at me. Waiting for my next command.

“Put your hands behind your back,” I whisper.

He does, shifting his weight so he’s sitting on his heels.

“Now take my panties off.”

Oliver licks his lips before he scooches forward on his knees. His breath is warm against my skin as he places a worshipful kiss to my lower stomach. Then he latches onto my panties with his teeth and gently tugs them down my legs. He keeps them in his mouth after I step out of them, grinning at me.

I giggle. “You don’t have to do that.”

He lets them fall. “You smell so sweet, princess. My mouth is practically watering.”

“You can wait.”

He groans.

“You’re okay with me tying you up?”

All four of us touch each other a lot, whether it’s a quick kiss on the forehead or a brush of fingers across an arm. None of that’s bothered me since we got back. But I’m worried that it’ll be different during sex. That one of them will touch me somewhere unexpected, and it’ll make me feel too vulnerable. I’m hoping that having Oliver’s hands tied will help me ease back into things.

“More than okay. How do you want me?”

“Just sit on the bed and hold out your wrists for now.”

He obeys. I tie his wrists together, making sure that the ropes are secure but not too tight. Then I crawl onto his lap, straddling him. He doesn’t touch me—doesn’t even move except to kiss me back when I press my lips to his. I nip at his bottom lip, and he groans. Then I grind lightly against his erection, adding just enough pressure to tease us both.

“Fuck,” he mutters when I pull away. Oliver’s eyes are half-closed, like he’s already high off of us and this moment. When I rub his dick through his pants, his breath hitches.

“I’m going to get these off of you,” I say. “And then you’re going to lie back, and I’m going to sit on your face until I come.”

“Fuck. Yes. Please, Wren. I’ve been dying to taste you.”

“Dying, huh?”

“I’m not joking,” he says, and he’s so serious that I actually believe him. “Every time I think about having my tongue deep inside you, I need you. Immediately. As much as I need fucking air.”

Holy shit.

I slide off his lap. Getting his pants and boxers down his legs is a little hard since he can’t lean on his hands, but we manage. Then I point to the bed, and he lies down on his back.

“Good boy.”

Oliver whimpers.

I can’t help but smile. Having Oliver taking orders from me is different and new. I’m nervous—I don’t want to do anything that’ll make him uncomfortable. But I also trust him to tell me if I push past one of his boundaries.

On the bed, I lean down and run my tongue across his bottom lip before I pull away. “Ready?”

“Please,” he whispers. “Fucking suffocate me.”

I move into position and lower myself onto his face. I face his legs so if I decide to sixty-nine we can, but for now I want all of Oliver’s focus on me.

He parts me eagerly with his tongue, lapping at my arousal and spreading it to my clit. He circles it gently with a deep moan, like he’s eating his favorite meal for the first time in years.

“Oh, just like that,” I say, unable to stop myself from grinding against his face.

He groans, continuing to work me over with his tongue, and part of me wishes his hands were on my hips.

Good. That’s good.

I don’t move to untie him, though. I still don’t want to be touched, just in case. The guys have always been in control during sex. I’m afraid my mind will default to that. From there, I’ll slip right into the way Jordan and his men grabbed me and shoved me around. Or how I couldn’t get my head above water no matter how hard I tried, couldn’t get any air—

“Wren. Wren, relax.” Oliver has stopped his ministrations. “Princess, take a breath.”

I gasp, coming back to reality. “Oh my god.”

“Do you need to stop? It’s okay if you do.”

“No, I just started… thinking. But I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? You want me to keep going?”

I find his hands with my own, interlacing our fingers. It’s a little awkward considering his wrists are still tied, but he doesn’t complain. “I’m sure.”

Oliver starts off slowly, gently tracing his tongue around my entrance before he sucks on my clit. I moan, my fingers tightening around his.

I let myself get lost in the sensations. Any time my mind wanders, I squeeze Oliver’s hands, and he squeezes back. It’s the gentle tug I need to pull me back to the present.

For the next ten minutes, Oliver doesn’t slow down at all. It’s like he can’t help himself. Considering the desperate sounds of pleasure coming from him, he really does need this. The thought has me careening toward an orgasm so hard my legs begin to tremble.

“Oliver, I’m gonna come,” I gasp.

Normally, he’d pull away and edge me until I can’t think straight. But not this time. No, he continues working me exactly the same way, his fingers tightening around mine. And then my vision goes blank as pleasure shoots up my spine, exploding through my veins. I have to fight to keep my balance as I reach my peak. And then I come crashing down, panting and shaking.

“You taste like heaven, princess,” Oliver mutters, nuzzling his face against me. “God, I never want to stop.”

“Careful what you wish for,” I say in a teasing tone.

He groans. “I think I’ve made it pretty clear that whenever you’re concerned, careful flies right out the window.”

Oliver sucks on my clit, causing me to cry out. He probably meant it to be a distraction so I don’t think too hard on what he just said, but it doesn’t work. It’s true—he was reckless. All he cared about was getting to me sooner. Because he loves me.

I move off of him, turning around and straddling his waist.

“Wren, what—”

I take his face in my hands and kiss him hard. My taste explodes on my tongue, and as Oliver matches my enthusiasm, I can’t help but moan.

“I want you inside of me,” I whisper.

I scooch downward, taking his dick and stroking it slowly. Oliver thrusts his hips upward with a groan, and I stop.

“Please keep going,” he pants. “Shit.”

“It’s cute when you beg,” I say lightly, smirking at him.

He lets out a grudging laugh. “This is what I get for teasing you all the time, huh?”

I start stroking him again. “Mmhmm.”

“Worth it,” he says with a wink.

I guide his cock to my entrance, taking him in an inch. A whimper escapes my mouth at the way he feels. I mean to take it slow, but I can’t help myself as I sink down until he’s all the way inside of me.

“Wren,” Oliver groans. His hands are clenched into fists on his stomach. When I start moving up and down, he lets out something like a high-pitched shout.

Fuck, that’s hot.

I set a steady pace, rubbing my clit gently.

“Christ, Wren,” Oliver says. He rolls his hips again, but the look I give him makes him stop. “Fuck. How am I supposed to stay still? Too good, princess.”

“Do as you’re told, or I’ll stop.”

He whimpers, clenching his fists even tighter.

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about having him like this.

Most of me was sure I’d like it, but the rest was clouded over with nervousness and self-doubt.

But god, now that he’s underneath me and completely at my mercy, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Not only do I feel safe and in control, but I feel strong for the first time in days.

And it’s right then, just as I come again, that I realize I can handle everything I’ve been putting off.

Not on my own, but with Elliot, Rhett, and Oliver by my side.

When I come down, Oliver is staring at me so softly, so sweetly, that I find myself leaning down and kissing him without making a conscious decision to do so.

It’s instinct, maybe, or an irresistible pull to him that I can’t explain.

Either way, the kiss is overflowing with hundreds of emotions and thousands of unspoken words.

It takes my breath away, and when I break the kiss, Oliver looks like he’s barely holding on for dear life.

“You,” he pants, “are a sex goddess.”

I giggle at the notion, moving back to an even pace now that I’m not distracted by our kiss.

Oliver groans, pushing his head into the mattress. “So close, Wren. So close.”

“Mmm. You want to come, O?”

He gives me a playful look, repeating something I once said to him. “What do you think?”

The laugh that bubbles up my throat is like a release of its own. “It’s like that, huh? You want to come? Then beg for it.” I start moving my hips in a different way, trying to keep him on the edge without pushing him over.

“Wren, please,” he groans.

I wait for a second, but he doesn’t say anything else. “I happen to know the men you’ve been sleeping with for the past ten years. They would never call that begging. Try again.”

He grins. “Was hoping you’d take pity on me.”

“I’ll take pity on you once you’ve pleaded hard enough.”

Holy shit, this is fun.

Oliver blows out a breath. “I want to come so bad, princess. Please.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Wren, please. I’m begging you, let me come. I want to come inside of you. God, I want it more than anything right now. Please.”

“Such a good boy,” I murmur, picking up my pace again.

Oliver grunts, and then his eyes widen. “Oh, fuck.”

“Give it to me, O. Give it all to me.”

He lets out something between a groan and a whine while his whole body tenses. “Wren. Oh my god, Wren.”

“Eyes on me while you come, Oliver. I want to see.”

Our gazes meet, but his eyes are unfocused with pleasure. I move my hips slower, drawing out the moment until he’s finished. When he melts into the mattress, I slowly lift myself off him. Then I pepper tiny kisses up his body until my lips meet his in a lazy, tired kiss.

I collapse onto the bed next to him. We’re both sweaty and exhausted, but I’ve never been quite this elated in my life.

“That was amazing,” I whisper, moving to untie his hands.

Oliver turns his head to look at me. “Princess, amazing doesn’t even begin to describe what that was. Holy fuck.”

“I’m glad you liked it as much as I did.” I toss the rope onto the far side of the bed. When he doesn’t move to touch me, I swallow hard. “Can you… um. Can you hold me?”

“Yes. God, of course, Wren.” Instantly, his hands are on me. He rolls onto his side and pulls me into his body, cocooning me with his arms. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” I whisper. “I’m more than okay.”

He holds me silently, kissing the top of my head. We stay so still for long enough that we both drift off into a light sleep. I don’t wake until I feel him shift against me, raising his head to look at the clock on his nightstand.

“We should probably get up,” he says. “It’s been twenty minutes.”

Groaning, I force myself into a sitting position. Lying there with Oliver was so nice. The last thing I want to do is leave the warmth of his arms.

“We can shower separately,” Oliver says, stretching his arms with a yawn. “You can go first if you’d like.”

“I think I can handle us taking one together.” I start to lift my nightgown up.

Oliver grabs my wrists, making sure to keep his grip gentle. “No, princess. I don’t want you to just be able to handle it. Wait until you’re one hundred percent ready.”

“I am. I promise.”

He pulls my hands away from my body, forcing me to let go of my nightgown. “You don’t need to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m not!”

The look he gives me says he doesn’t believe me. Not even a little.

I sigh. “I can’t say I’ll feel the same way tomorrow. Or the day after that. But right now, I’m good. I want this.”

For a second, he watches me with his eyes narrowed. But then he nods. “Okay. I’ll get the water warming up.”

I follow him into the bathroom. Maybe he’s right to be concerned about me pushing myself too fast, but at least in this moment, I feel fine. I feel strong. Supported.

Oliver doesn’t watch while I strip, which I appreciate. I’m fine, but it still makes me feel cared for. Only after I’ve stepped into the stream of water with him does he finally look at me.

“Still good?” he asks, and I catch a hint of nervousness in his tone.

“Still good,” I say, kissing him lightly. “Can I wash you?”

He smiles. “Sure.”

Oliver stands still while I soap him up and scrub his skin with a washcloth. When I accidentally go too lightly on his sides, he laughs and squirms, grabbing my wrists.

“Oops, sorry.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Rhett’s told me and Ell about your love for tickling him. You’re not fooling me.”

“It was an accident,” I insist, but then I burst into an involuntary fit of giggles. I truly wasn’t doing it on purpose, but now he’ll never believe me.

He takes the washcloth from me with a playfully cautious glare. “I’d like to get through this shower without slipping and falling from your tickle attacks, thank you very much.”

The mischievous sparkle in his eyes catches me off guard. There’s always something so captivating about the way Oliver looks when he teases one of us. So I watch him while he runs the washcloth over his body.

He smirks. “I’d ask if you like what you see, but I already know the answer.”

I smile shyly. Never in my life have I been so enraptured by a man performing such a simple task. But, I suppose, I’ve never felt this way about a person before, either. Or had someone feel this way about me.

You’re my favorite part of Fridays.

I’d die a thousand deaths if it meant you got out of here alive.

I think I’ve made it pretty clear that whenever you’re concerned, careful flies right out the window.

“Oliver,” I whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I love you, too.”

He freezes, his washcloth right over the butterfly tattoo on his chest. For a moment I’m afraid I said the wrong thing, or the right thing too late. I open my mouth, but I don’t know how to make it right.

“Fuck.” Oliver throws his washcloth to the floor. Then he places his hands on my hips and backs me into the shower wall. The tiles are freezing against my skin, but his arms encircle my waist, pressing me into his warmth.

When Oliver fits his mouth to mine, my body sags in relief.

He keeps the kiss slow and languid, exploratory yet worshipful.

As our tongues meet, gently sliding against each other, I wonder if he was worried I didn’t say it back until now.

I hope not.

I’m glad he had the courage to say it first.

One of his hands leaves my waist, coming up to hold my head.

“I was so scared I said it too early,” he whispers against my lips.

“The logical side of me knows it’s too fast.

But the rest of me knows how real this feels.

How fucking right it is.

You belong with us, Wren. There’s nothing that could change my mind. Every time I look at you, it just solidifies it more in my head. I’m never letting you go. I could never want to.”

I kiss him again, laughing as I do.

Well, it’s a half-laugh, half-sob.

There are no tears in my eyes, but my heart feels so full I’m afraid it’ll burst.

“I’m not letting you go either, O,” I say when we pull away. “Ever. And I’ll always remember. I’ll always remember that you came for me the second you could.”

He leans his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat. There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his again.

We finish showering. The whole time, Oliver can’t help smiling, even when he shuts off the water and we have to step into the cold. He grabs a towel, but I take it from him and dry him off myself.

“You three always take care of me,” I say. “I want to take care of you, too.”

That just makes his smile widen.

By the time I’ve finished drying us both off, my mind is already whirring. Since they saved me, the guys have done nothing but remind me they’re here for me in every sense of the phrase. They’ve spent god knows how much money on me, they’ve fussed over me every second of every day, and they’ve made sure every need I have gets met immediately.

There isn’t anything else I could ask for. They’re entirely committed to me. And it’s exactly what I need to finish this.

As we’re getting dressed, I say, “I think tomorrow is the day.”

“For…?” Oliver asks. But his smile is gone, and the look on his face tells me he already knows exactly what I mean.

I take a shaky breath. Then I square my shoulders and look him in the eye. “To kill Jordan.”