Melt For Us(Holiday Masked Men #2)(7)

“Beg,” Micah commands, buried to the hilt.

“Please,” I helplessly whine, rolling my hips. “Please, I’m begging. More. All of you.”

Micah’s fingertips dig into my thighs. “She wants more,” he breathes, plunging himself deeper with each stroke. “Let’s give it to her.”

Damien stares down at me with hunger. “So goddamn needy.” He pries open my mouth with his thumb, before guiding his cock past my lips. “Suck,” he commands, shoving himself into the back of my throat, as I gag. “Yes. Choke on daddy’s dick. Fuck.”

Gathering the loose strands of my hair, he brushes them away from my face.

“You’re so good at sucking my cock.”

As he pumps further into my mouth, all I can think of is air. I need air.

I’d give anything in the world to watch this as a bystander. Here I am, bound with Christmas lights, getting railed and gagged by my three masked men.

And even better, we all come together.

It couldn’t get any more festive than this.





CHAPTER 4





Several hours later, the blizzard intensifies, as we all snuggle together on the couch in the spacious living room. The flames dance erratically with the gusting wind from the chimney, whistling and crackling.

Resting my head on Jensen’s lap, I take in the beauty of our Christmas tree, twinkling and lighting up the dark room. Memories of my last Christmas Eve flood through my mind, and the more I fight them away, the stronger they seem to flash back.

Damien caresses my leg, bringing me back to reality. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I remain silent.

Micah scoots closer, now shoulder to shoulder with Jensen, as he gently strokes my hair. “What’s the matter?”

Jensen grips my jaw, turning my head and forcing me to look at him. “You’re never this quiet,” he points out, humorously.

A small laugh escapes me.

His eyes narrow. “Usually, we can’t get you to shut the fuck up.”

Rolling my eyes, I pull away, turning onto my side. “I’m fine,” I lie.

“You can’t lie to us, Quinn,” Damien retorts. “We see right through you.”

“It was a memory,” I reply, shaking it off. “Just a stupid memory.”

“Care to elaborate?” Jensen asks.

“She doesn’t want to share,” Micah interrupts, catching me off guard. “Let it be.”

“Yeah? She can speak for herself.”

“Get fucked.”

“Enough,” Damien orders, edginess in his tone.

Without thinking it through, I inhale a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut. “Last Christmas, I was talking to this guy.”

An eerie silence fills the space around us, until there’s a dull ringing that settles in my ears.

“Oh?” Jensen urges.

“We went on a few dates,” I begin, barely any sound to my voice. “He seemed like a really nice guy. Took me to fancy restaurants. Bought me random gifts here and there.” Briefly hesitating, I hug the blanket tighter to my chest. “Until he started calling and texting me all the time. Asking where I was and who I was with.”

Damien leans forward, tensing his body as he firmly grips my legs.

Micah continues to stroke my hair.

Jensen’s breathing becomes labored.

“And not believing me when I told him,” I quietly add in, letting out a nervous laugh. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Don’t say that,” Damien spits out. “Don’t you ever call yourself stupid.”

“I ignored all of the red flags. Every. Single. One,” I speak slowly, looking away. “I never should have gone to that Christmas Eve party with him.”

Damien moves my legs from his lap, and rushes to his feet. “No,” he exhales, pacing the room. “Don’t fucking say it, Quinn. Don’t you fucking tell me—”

“Damien,” Micah stammers, joining him beside the tree, grabbing onto his shoulder.

Damien swats him away. “He’s dead,” he coldly states. “He’s fucking dead.”

“Quinn,” Jensen whispers, locking his eyes with mine. “What happened?”

Tears fill my eyes.

“Quinn,” he urges, taking my face between his hands. “What did he do to you?”

As I quickly sit upright, Micah kneels before me, resting his hands on my legs just above my knees. “It’s alright,” he softly tells me. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we understand. But, if you do, just know that we’re here for you.”

Wetness coats my cheeks as I take his hands in mine. “I said no,” I let out, my voice cracking. “I told him to stop. That I didn’t want to.”

Damien turns his back to me, masking his reaction.

“He hurt you,” Jensen murmurs.

“We were both really drunk,” I dismissively say, pushing myself up from the couch. “It was nothing. And it’s in the past now, anyways. I’m over it.”

Turning on my heel, I exit the room, making my way toward the kitchen. The sound of their footsteps behind me sends a rush of adrenaline through me. I’d do anything to take back that night. I’d do anything to be able to go back in time and change it.