Page 7 of Treasured by Them (Rose and Dagger #3)

Danica

E dmund nudges me forward until I’m bent over with my head next to Troy’s lap. The pressure in my ass is intense, but not in a bad way. They know what they’re talking about—I need to trust them.

They’re my daddies. My face flames in embarrassment. It’s kinky, it’s strange. I never thought I’d call someone “Daddy,” but here I am saying it to two men at the same time.

They want to take care of me. They keep saying it, and I’ve even seen it in how they treat me.

Why is it so hard to believe them?

Edmund rubs my ass, squeezing me and making the plug move. “Ask Daddy Troy if you can suck his cock.”

I tilt my head—the angle is awkward—so I can look up at Troy. “Daddy, can I suck your cock?”

“Yes, baby girl.” He unfastens his pants and pulls out his length.

I wet my lips, preparing for the stretch.

His dark eyes grow darker with lust.

Edmund’s tip nudges against my pussy. I don’t know how he’s going to fit in there. I already feel way too full.

“Relax, angel.” Edmund’s voice is gravelly and low. “You can do this, I know you can.”

“If it helps, you can focus on sucking my dick.” Troy sounds playful, and his mouth curves up at one corner.

I stick out my tongue to taste him, and his cock twitches. His hands clench into fists on his thighs. He’s holding back.

Not for long.

I open wide and take as much of him as I can, holding his base with my fingers. The solid weight of him is like candy to my tongue.

Edmund slowly eases inside me from the back. I make a sound of discomfort and he stops.

“You okay, angel?”

“Mm-hmm.” Better than okay. They’re being so careful with me, so thoughtful. In this moment, I feel like the most important person in the world to them.

Troy cups my cheek. “Tap my thigh if you need us to stop.”

I rub a hand up and down his leg to reassure him I’m all right.

“I’m giving you a little more.” Edmund holds my hips in place and thrusts forward slowly.

It’s exquisite and excruciating at the same time. I want him to stop, and I never want him to stop.

“Fuck.” His voice is low, strained. “So fucking tight. This feels amazing, Danica.”

He pulls out a little, then pushes in again. I moan, because it feels amazing to me, too. Troy keeps himself impossibly still, like he’s afraid of breaking the spell of my mouth. I cup my tongue around his length and hollow my cheeks, sucking at him.

“Dammit, Dani, you feel too good.”

Their heavy breathing matches mine as we find a rhythm, pushing, pulling, sucking, touching. Troy reaches beneath me to cup my breasts and fondles my nipples, toying with me. Pleasure shoots from each caress straight to my clit.

Edmund does something with the plug, or maybe it’s moving each time he thrusts. I’m hyperconscious of it inside me. He reaches under me as well, finds where we join and runs his fingers over my pussy lips, up to my clit.

I moan loudly, wanting more. My legs are shaking from the strain of my pleasure—I don’t know how long I can hold myself like this.

“Sweet angel.” Edmund’s fingers work magic on my clit. “You’re going to come and I can’t wait to feel how you squeeze my dick. It’ll be so good. You can scream around Troy’s cock, really let him hear you.”

Troy’s light pinches at my nipples grow rougher. “You need to come for your daddies, little girl. We’ll guide you through it. Let it explode and we’ll be right here.”

Oh, fuck—it’s happening. I don’t want to tighten up. I’m already so full. There’s no space for anything else.

“You can do it,” Edmund says. His thrusts are getting more frenzied.

Troy’s cock feels thicker, harder in my mouth. They’re both close.

“Come for us, baby.” Troy pinches hard, and at the same time, Edmund pinches my clit.

I come apart, screaming over Troy’s length.

“There you go—so—so good.” Edmund slams into me a final time, hips jerking against me.

Troy groans and his come spills over my tongue, down my throat. I swallow it down, reveling in the power I hold.

Edmund smooths his hands over my backside, jostling the plug and causing a reflexive clench in my pussy. “Angel, I’m so glad you were a brat tonight. Tomorrow, one of us will reward you. You’ll wake up with one of our faces in your pussy. But after that? I hope you misbehave again soon.”

* * *

Troy

I wake up with Dani’s arm draped over my chest.

Best feeling ever.

“Hey,” Edmund says.

I flick my gaze over to him. Leaning back against the headboard, his attention is fixed on Dani.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Just thinking about the wedding.”

He better not be getting cold feet. I haven’t fucked him up yet, but I would for this, for hurting Dani. “Something wrong?”

“Fuck no. I was just thinking.”

“Spit it out, E.”

He frowns and looks away. “You’ll be my best man, right?”

“Sure.” That’s gonna sting, standing up there with them. Watching the two of them say their vows and all that other shit. Everyone celebrating their perfect, fairy-tale love—even if it is a sham, an arrangement.

“Good. I can’t imagine being up there with her, without you.”

“Yeah.” It’s too early for this.

He looks at me, his green eyes intent. “Maybe you should come ring-shopping, too. Maybe we should both marry her.”

I stare at him. Is this a real suggestion?

He laughs quietly. “Can you imagine how my father would react?”

“Not well.” I grin, but it’s forced. I wanted him to be serious more than anything else.

“Still, I like the idea. The two of us taking care of her forever. We don’t need rings for that, I guess.” He smooths his fingers over her shoulder.

She makes a soft sound in her sleep.

He’s right. We don’t need rings to take care of her forever.

“So.” His smile turns evil. “Who gets to wake her up with his tongue in her cunt?”

I raise my eyebrows. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Sure.” He sits up and holds out his fist.

I’m already diving under the covers and spreading Dani’s legs.

* * *

Danica

After Edmund and Troy leave for the day, I cave and call my mother.

She answers immediately. “Danica, what a nice surprise. Zora and I were just talking about you.”

“Oh, she’s still there?”

“She and Malcolm are staying in the guest house while they view real estate. They’re settling in San Esteban.”

“Neat. Uh…so I’m going dress shopping today.”

She sucks in a breath, so loudly I can hear it through the phone. “You still don’t have a gown?”

“I’m working on it. Do you…do you want to come with me?” As tense as things have been between us, I still love my mom and I know she loves me. And her no-nonsense approach to this wedding will mean I settle on a gown. Today.

“I’m free.” She lowers her voice. “Can Zora come, too? You should see how wedding crazy she is, and I think she’s lonely.”

“Sure, why not?” Zora could be a nice buffer between my mom’s and my tendency to snap at each other when we get stressed.

Two hours later, we’re at a large, warehouse bridal store that had a last-minute appointment available. It’s the only place we could get into, so this is the place I’ll find my wedding dress.

Lines and lines of bridesmaid dresses fill the front of the building. Off to the side are various accessories—veils, garters, shoes. On the other side are suits and tuxes. Bright fluorescent lights glare down at us as we make our way toward the bridal fitting area.

A tall, dark-haired woman introduces herself as Himari and flashes us a warm smile. “I have several gowns in your size back this way, Danica. Shall we get started?”

“Yes, thanks.” I try to manufacture excitement or eagerness, but it’s difficult. I’m getting to the point where I don’t truly hate Edmund, much as I like to say I do. But I’m hesitant about the wedding, just the same.

It’s because I don’t like to be forced into things. If I’m going to marry him, I want a real proposal, and a real wedding. Not this arrangement.

And…what about Troy?

The first gown I try on fits me just fine.

“This won’t even need alterations,” Himari says, “beyond the hem, of course. I don’t think we have heels tall enough that it wouldn’t drag.”

I step onto a little stage to pose in the dress for my mom and Zora.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.” Mom clasps her hands under her chin.

Zora’s eyes fill with tears. “Truly lovely, Danica.”

I pluck at the long, lacy sleeves. They’re already itching my wrists and elbows. “I don’t think this one will work.” At the sight of my mom’s crestfallen face, I add, “We can put it on the ‘maybe’ rack.”

I try on all kinds of gowns—generic, and designer—in all styles. My mom tells Himari that price is of no consequence, so Himari brings out even more gowns.

After what feels like fifty dresses but is probably only fifteen, I slump against the dressing room wall in my underwear and take a much-needed breather. Outside the door, Mom and Zora are gossiping about Dad and Malcolm.

“I’m pretty sure they were smoking at the party last night,” Zora says with a giggle.

“Ha.” Mom sounds annoyed, but affectionate. “I’ll blame Malcolm’s party influence. Craig wouldn’t do that on his own. But he seems happy Malcolm is back after so long away.”

“The two have been close for a long time, I take it.”

“Oh, yes,” Mom says.

“You know, I think Malcolm might propose soon. I think it’s bothered him for years that Craig got married and had kids, the whole thing.” Zora’s whisper is conspiratorial, but not quiet enough.

No wonder Zora’s so interested in my wedding. An upcoming proposal? I’m excited for her—and for Malcolm.

“Danica, darling, are you all right in there?” Mom calls. “Do you need help with a gown?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” I peel myself from the wall and grab the next dress. It has a corset-style top, with flowing, ethereal fabric layered to create a full skirt. I like it. I know not to get my hopes up, though—sometimes the gowns I like most are the ones that look worst on me.

Once I get it on, I open the door for Himari to help me with lacing the corset. I don’t look in the mirror, afraid of judging it before it’s fully ready.

I step out of the dressing room and onto the tiny stage. I face my mom and Zora instead of the mirrors.

Their faces are slack with…horror? Admiration?

“Danica, turn around,” Mom says. “Tell us what you think.”

I spin to face the three-way mirrors. I hardly recognize myself, and at the same time, I can’t picture myself in any other dress. It’s both sexy and romantic, like I’ve stepped out of a fairy tale. It takes me a long time to find my voice. “I love it.”

“This is the one.” Mom turns to Himari. “What sort of alterations does it need, and can they be done in one week?”

The three of them hash out details while I stare, transfixed, at my reflection. I’m a bride. For the first time, it feels real.

For the first time, I might want it.