Page 58 of Stay Little Fighter

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHLOE

NOW

Ibite down on my bottom lip as Ronan’s hand disappears beneath the neckline of my shirt.

His touch is gentle but maddening, each brush of his fingertips over the swell of my breast driving me higher until I’m wondering if I can come from touch alone.

Ryker’s hand drifts up and down the inside of my thigh in a rhythm that simultaneously makes me want to beg for more and plead with him to stop.

There’s a voice in the back of my mind telling me this could make or break the fantasy I have in my head. The life where I have four men who love me and don’t threaten to kill each other at every opportunity. A life I’ve tried not to want so I don’t get my hopes up.

But I can’t lie to myself anymore.

This is what I want, and denying that does nothing for any of us.

Kingston strides closer, each step more confident than the last, until he’s standing beside the couch, his dark eyes pinning me in place. “I asked you a question, Chloe.”

I swallow heavily. “Yes, I want to get started.”

He gives me a satisfied smile before reaching his hand out and I take it immediately.

I have no idea what he has planned for me, but I’m desperate to find out.

“Strip for us, Chloe,” Kingston orders as he backs toward an armchair beside the fireplace that gives the room a soft orange glow.

Nibbling on the inside of my cheek, I drag my fingers up my thighs until they hook in the hem of the shirt.

I’ve never claimed to know how to be sexy, but the way they watch me urges me forward.

Don’t overthink it, I remind myself over and over.

I drag the fabric higher, making sure each move I make is slow and deliberate.

A soft rumble of groans fills the room when I finally pull it over my head and drop it to the couch I was on just a few minutes ago.

Meeting Kingston’s gaze, he gives me a slow nod that tells me to continue without having to utter a single word.

My heart rate kicks up a notch as I slip my fingers beneath the waistband of my panties and slowly lower them. Thankfully bending no longer hurts because the last thing I want is for this to end before it can begin.

I kick the lace away from my feet and meet King’s eyes, waiting for my next instructions. His eyes drag over my bare skin slowly, as if I’m a work of art in a museum rather than a woman trembling in front of him.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, once again holding out his hand for me to take.

His fingers are warm as they wrap around mine, tugging me to stand between his spread legs.

“You okay, Mama?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” I reply immediately.

He watches me for a beat, searching my eyes for any hesitation but he’s not going to find any. Not when I want this more than I want my next breath.

When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he grasps my hips and turns me slowly. Once I have my back to him and I’m facing the rest of the room, he tugs me to sit in his lap.

His hardness presses against my ass, dragging a soft moan from us both as he settles me with my legs spread over his knees, opening me up for the three sets of hungry eyes watching our every move.

“Comfortable?”