The Fae Princes (Vicious Lost Boys #4)(37)

I couldn’t hold on if I tried.

The orgasm hits me like a gale force. I jolt and the ropes creak and Vane pulls my hair, keeping me full of him.

“She’s clenched tight around my cock,” Bash says. “Fuck, Darling.”

Restrained as I am, my body wants to curl into itself and ride through the orgasm, but I’m forced to stay open for it, to take the pleasure without hiding.

Bash bounces me on his cock when Vane pulls out, his cum covering my chin.

“Fuck, yes,” Bash says and spills inside of me.

I’m tethered to the posts, but I’m fucking flying like I’ve left my body.

“Again,” Pan orders, and Kas lets the vines go wild, never letting up on my clit. I’m so overstimulated that my nerves are fire, that the pleasure mixes with pain.

Pan bends me forward so he can sink deeper into my ass, his hands on my hips, driving me down on him.

White stars dance behind my closed lids. Every nerve is firing. Every muscle blinking with pleasure.

My clit is throbbing as another wave threatens to crest.

“Come for me, Darling,” Pan says. “Come while I fill up your ass.”

His words are enough for the wave to engulf me.

I cry out and Pan drives forward, groaning into me as he shoots his cum deep inside of me.

I clench up, breathing through the pleasure and pain, trying to come back into my body. I don’t want to miss a second of this.

I’m breathing heavily, sweating, full of cum as Pan pumps into me one last time, his body covering mine.

“That was amazing,” Bash says below me.

Pan staggers away. “Untie her.”

I hang against the ropes as Bash and Kas open the knots. It’s Vane that catches me and scoops me up, cradling me in his arms. “You are fucking beautiful when you’re getting fucked, Win,” he says, his voice rumbling against me.

He carries me up, up, and lays me on the large bed that takes up the highest platform.

Bash comes up a few seconds later with a warm, wet rag. “Open up for me, Darling,” he says and gently cleans me.

Kas is next with a glass of cool water that he urges me to drink down.

Peter Pan is last with an oversized t-shirt in his hands. It looks like it’s been half bleached by the sun, but it smells like him, like sunshine and starlight all at the same time.

“Arms up,” he tells me, and I don’t argue. He gets the shirt on and rights it on my torso where the extra fabric pools around my thighs.

We may be facing our worst enemy yet, but all of that fades to the background when I have them here, now, coddling me after fucking me senseless.

Bash fluffs the pillows and pulls back the blanket.

Pan gets into the bed first, then urges me into him where I curl into his side. Bash is next, pulling my legs over his lap as he tucks the blanket around me. Vane and Kas prop themselves up on the other side of the bed. They share a cigarette and a glass of something dark.

I’m fuzzy with contentment, my body exhausted but relaxed.

“You tired, Darling?” Pan asks behind me. His fingers run absently through my hair and the sensation sends a delighted tickle through my scalp.

“Maybe a little,” I say and then yawn.

Vane watches me through a ribbon of smoke as he takes a long hit, then hands it over to Kas. “Get some sleep, Win.”

“Don’t leave me,” I tell them.

“Of course not,” Bash says, his hands kneading the tired flesh of my calves.

Before long, I’m out.





21





WINNIE


I wake parched and with my bladder screaming. All of the boys are tangled around me, sleeping soundly, but somehow, I manage to slip from beneath them and from the bed without waking them. Following the stairs, the rope bridge, crossing the platforms, I make my way down to the floor and then down from the tower.

Yawning, eyes still a little sleepy, I shuffle to my bathroom. When I’m done, I pull on a pair of pants and fix my hair. I look like I got fucked by four men, that’s for sure.

“Now, water,” I mutter to myself and scrub some of the sleep from my eyes when I enter the kitchen. I come to an abrupt stop.

Tinker Bell is in the kitchen, the dark sky behind her framed by the balcony doors.

“Hello, Winnie,” she says.

The shadow writhes at my center and I know my eyes turn black.

“There’s no need for that,” Tink says. “I just wanted to talk.”

“I don’t believe that and I’m kinda insulted you’d think I would.”

She laughs, and it’s hard not to be lulled to a sense of safety, hearing the calming chime of it. She looks innocent, she sounds innocent, but she isn’t any of those things.

Even before she was resurrected from the bottom of a powerful, sometimes fickle lagoon, she was devious. She killed my ancestor, and that one decision propelled us all on this journey, right now to this very moment.

“What do you want?” I ask her.

“I want to return to a sense of normalcy.”

“You can’t have Peter Pan back.” God, I sound like a possessive bitch, but I’m not taking it back.

Tink walks around the kitchen island and I follow her movement, keeping the island between us.

“You know what I find a little sad,” she says.