Page 20 of Treasured by Them (Rose and Dagger #3)

Danica

E dmund and Troy stand on either side of me. Edmund in front, Troy behind. Their manly, clean scents fill my nose and I suck in deep breaths, trying to inhale more.

“You want this, little girl?” Troy kisses my neck, just beneath my ear.

“Yes.” I arch my back so I can press my ass against his hardening length.

Edmund kisses my cheek, then my lips again. At the same time, he and Troy back me toward the bed.

“How do you want it?” Troy’s deep voice rumbles through me like a purr. “Hard? Gentle? Quick? Slow?”

I shake my head. “You decide.”

“Fast the first time.” He nibbles the edge of my ear. “Slow the second.”

Next thing I know, our clothes are off. The first time is fast, just like Troy promised. He eats me while Edmund fucks me from behind. Neither of them come, but they encourage me, their dirty praise filling my ears.

My orgasm rages through me with the power of a tidal wave.

I’m still spent and limp when the guys put on condoms and flip me onto my back.

They take turns fucking my pussy, nice and slow—just like they promised.

First one, then the other. Their hands and lips roam the rest of my body.

They switch places every time I get close to coming.

Whichever guy is waiting his turn either plays with my nipples or teases my clit.

“Gonna get new tests done soon, all three of us.” Troy strokes in as far as he’ll go, groaning into my hair. “Then we’ll fill you with our come, Dani. You’ll be our dirty little girl, carrying around our seed.”

My body clenches in anticipation. The idea should gross me out, but instead I love the mental image of the two of them filling me.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Please, Daddies. Give it all to me.”

“You’ll take our come.” Edmund switches places with Troy, locking his gaze with mine as he slowly, oh-so-slowly, presses inside. “When it leaks out of you, we’ll push it back in.”

I moan, hating and loving the idea at the same time. I’ve never had sex without a condom. I wonder what it will feel like, to be skin to skin.

“Tell me you want my come.” Edmund’s thrusts gain speed. “Say it, princess.”

“I want your come, Daddy. Please. Please give it to me.” I tighten my legs around him, feeling the stirrings of another orgasm.

“Fuck— fuck .” He groans, pushing in a few more times, fast-fast-fast, before shuddering against me. His green eyes lock on mine, truth shining along with lust. “Giving you everything, Danica. It’s all yours.”

He eases out and Troy quickly takes his place. I grip Troy’s arms and look into his handsome, rugged face.

“We’re gonna make you come again,” he says. “Fill you up and watch you come so hard. Ready, little girl?”

I nod, spreading my legs wider to give him more room.

Troy lifts up so Edmund can reach between us to find my clit. His fingertips circle it, lighting every nerve. I clench around Troy.

He grins down at me. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

I start to say “yeah,” but it turns into a moan as he thrusts the rest of the way in. Soon, Troy’s pumping into me and Edmund continues rubbing my clit. Their speed picks up, and I can’t help but cry out in pleasure with each new thrust, each new spark of bliss.

“Come for us, little Dani.” Troy slams forward. “Come for your daddies.”

Edmund’s gentle rubbing grows harder, faster. My body tenses, tightening and tightening as they wind me higher.

“Come, Danica. Now.” Edmund’s dark command sends me over the edge.

I convulse around Troy’s cock, pussy squeezing rhythmically around his thickness. He swears and strokes into me a final time, grunting out another curse.

“Dani, Dani,” he murmurs, kissing my neck, my cheek, my lips.

We clean up quickly, eager to return to bed. Tomorrow, I’ll go to Granddad’s and stay there until the wedding on Saturday, so I want to soak in as much contact with these men as possible.

Pure contentment, resting between them. Edmund absently runs a hand up and down my thigh. The movement is both possessive and comforting. Troy has an arm banded around my waist, holding me against him.

Eventually, Troy’s breathing evens out. He’s sleeping. Soon, I’ll be sleeping, too. They wore me out in the very best way.

“Danica.” Edmund strokes my cheek. “I have a question for you, angel.”

“Yeah?” I grin. “I hope it’s not asking me if I can come again, because I absolutely cannot.”

“Well, that sounds more like a challenge than a no …” he begins with a wicked smile.

I huff out a laugh. “I’m too tired, really.”

“Another time.” He kisses my nose. “But that isn’t my question.”

He sounds so serious, now I’m getting nervous. “All right, go ahead and ask.”

“If you didn’t have to marry me tomorrow,” he whispers, “would you do it?”

I don’t even have to think about my answer. “No.”

He actually looks hurt. Shit. I’m an asshole.

“After all.” I give his shoulder a playful shove. “I hate you, remember?”

“Yeah.” His frown clears, and he nods. “I hate you, too. Good night, princess. Sleep well.”

“Good night.” We should keep talking. I should clarify why I said no so fast. But that’s exactly the problem—speed. Everything is moving so quickly. If given a real choice, I’d never marry someone I just met three months ago. It’s absolute madness.

I can’t make the words come, though, and he obviously wants to sleep.

I grab his big, warm hand in mine and hold it while we drift off.

* * *

Edmund

The tiny church is full of Danica’s and my families and friends. We tried to keep the guest list down as much as possible, especially given the rushed nature of our nuptials. Our parents, however, kept adding new names to the list. “We can’t afford to alienate so-and-so,” was the common refrain.

I stand at the front of the church, Troy at my side as my best man. The priest raises his eyebrows at me, wordlessly asking where the bride could be.

She’s late. She’ll be here, though. I’m not worried.

The violinist begins another soft classical piece.

While we wait, I take in the delicate white and lavender roses arranged along the pews.

My parents sit in the first row, along with my grandfather.

But it’s my father and mother who I focus on.

They’re so fucking unhappy together, it makes me cringe.

I can see it in my father’s stiff shoulders, in how my mother angles her body away from him.

They could be strangers. It would be better if they were strangers.

I don’t want that for Danica and me.

My mother sends a nervous glance over her shoulder toward the wide doors that lead to the foyer, where Danica is supposed to come in. Troy subtly shifts from foot to foot.

Across the aisle from my parents and grandfather are Danica’s parents and grandfather. Her mom and dad whisper to each other, looks of concern on their faces.

What’s taking Danica so goddamn long?

Leah steps into the doorway at the end of the aisle. Fucking finally.

But she isn’t holding her bouquet, and she isn’t walking toward us in time to the soft violin melody.

She’s hurrying forward, cheeks bright with emotion—embarrassment? Concern? My grandfather, Danica’s grandfather, and I meet her halfway down the aisle.

“Where is she?” my father demands.

“I—I don’t know.”

Danica’s parents join us. At this point, all of the guests are whispering among themselves, sounding scandalized. It’s the kind of horrid delight people take in the embarrassment of others, and I want to throat-punch every single one of them.

Danica’s mother gives me a tight, uncomfortable smile. “Maybe she just stepped out for some air. I know she wants this wedding.”

Does she, though?

The last night Troy and I spent with Danica, we fucked her brains out and she enjoyed every second of it.

But then after…

“If you didn’t have to marry me tomorrow, would you do it?”

“No.”

A yawning emptiness carves through my chest.

Danica didn’t just step out for some air. She’s gone.

* * *

Danica

I wake in complete darkness, with a splitting headache. Where the fuck am I? The last thing I remember, I was in the church bathroom for a last-minute visit to the toilet before the ceremony. I told Leah I’d be two seconds before hurrying down the hall in my gown.

Now I’m…I don’t know. I kick out with my legs, but they hit something solid and impenetrable. My arms—same.

Satin-smooth fabric brushes against my arm when I explore the edges of my environment. My wedding dress. I’m still in it.

“Hello?” I call. “Hello? What’s going on?”

A car motor starts up. I rock sideways as my prison begins to move.

Horror descends, washing over me in a dark, confining weight.

I’m in the trunk of a car.

* * *

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