Page 31 of Freed By Wrath

“Yes.”

Slash’s lips curve. “Then you know what to do.”

8

Slash

She was already a sight when she woke up.

Crawling toward Fabien, ass up, dress hiked, cunt still glistening from my fingers?

She’s a goddamn goddess.

I drop into the armchair across from the couch, watch her move, and feel absolutely no guilt about any of this.

I knew the moment she opened her eyes that resisting her would become that much harder. I knew the others would feel it too, somehow. They’ve never been able to stay away from her, no matter how many lies they tell themselves about why.

And still, I didn’t do a single fucking thing to prevent it.

That’s not an accident.

That’s a decision.

What I hadn’t planned on, though, was her waking up so fast—that’s the only part that caught me off guard. I’d laid down beside her with the loose intention of just… feeling her. And somewhere between that plan and right now, things escalated in a direction I have zero complaints about.

Who knew her waking up would be better than anything I’d imagined?

She’s not ready for the three of us. Not even close. I know that.

But this is how it’s supposed to be. Whatever stopped us before doesn’t apply anymore and… She’s it for all of us.

There’s never been another woman that landed the same way she did, not one that the three of us looked at and felt the same pull toward simultaneously. It doesn’t happen. We know that. We’ve lived long enough and worked enough ugly hours to understand exactly how rare it is to find someone you want to keep, and that actually wants to be kept.

And our lives aren’t easy to share. The job takes everything from us daily—time, patience, the ability to be present in the way relationships need you to be. We’ve all tried. We’ve all watched it fall apart in the same predictable ways. Late nights, missed dinners, the particular silence of a person who’s stopped trying to understand what you carry home at the end of a shift.

But between the three of us? We could be enough. We could be more than enough. We could give her everything none of us could manage alone—presence, stability, someone always there when the other two aren’t. We could make her happy in a way that actually holds.

I know how it sounds. I know it’s not conventional, or simple, or the kind of thing you explain easily over breakfast.

But I don’t care.

She’s here, and I have to make her stay.

Valerie keeps crawling slowly toward Fabien on her hands and knees, that perfect ass swaying with every movement. He finally steps out of the shadows, dark hazel eyes locked on her, messy man bun, white shirt, grey pants doing nothing to hide how hard he already is, even if his dark brows are drawn together like he’s fighting himself over it.

He looks at me, something between gratitude and murder in his eyes, and I just smirk, with my legs spread, slowly stroking my aching cock.

“Don’t be a fucking coward,” I tell him, voice low and amused. “Our girl is waiting. Don’t make her beg.”

Fabien is stunned. And he doesn’t move fast enough. So I watch Valerie’s fire start to flicker, the reality creeping back in, making her hesitate.

Not on my watch.

“Hey, trouble,” I call out, and her head snaps toward me immediately. Her gaze drops straight to the thick cock fisted in my hand, and she licks her lips as she can already taste it.

She looks dazed, caught somewhere between hunger, shyness, and anticipation, and fuck, I want to keep her exactly like this.

“Big guy’s feeling a little shy tonight,” I add, still stroking myself lazily. “You want to come, right?”