Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen, #1)(67)

“Let go,” Damien breathes beside my ear, pinning my arms beside my head. “Come for us, baby.”

My clit swells beneath their tongues, and the moment they both thrust a finger inside of me simultaneously, I gasp. Another earth-shattering orgasm bursts through me, rocking through my body as I give in to the bliss wholeheartedly.

“Fuck,” Jensen groans, stroking my leg with his free hand. “You taste so incredible.”

“Our sweet girl,” Micah breathes, kissing his way to my inner thigh. “So goddamn beautiful.”

They both take their time, groping each other and kissing their way back up my body, hesitating at my neck. The muscles in Micah’s biceps flex as he leans over me.

“Taste yourself, baby,” he purrs, staring straight into my soul. His lips collide with mine, and I savor the sweet taste. “I know how to share.” He kisses me passionately, holding my jaw as he slips his tongue into my mouth, brushing it against mine.

“We all do,” Damien says, planting a small kiss on the corner of my lips.

“Damien,” I moan, breaking our kiss to gaze innocently into his eyes.

He tenses against me, caressing down my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Yes?” he questions, watching me intently with soft eyes.

Swallowing hard, I lean into his touch, resting my face in his palm as I share glances with all three of them. “There’s really no other girls?” I ask, in nearly a whisper.

“No,” Damien answers without even the slightest hesitation.

“Only you, little Quinn,” Micah adds.

I link my arms around Jensen’s neck, drawing him closer.

“And what about you?” Damien smirks down at me, shifting his gaze toward Jensen and Micah.

It’s like he’s just read my mind. I want them all.

Damien.

Jensen.

And Micah.

“I don’t want to choose,” I strongly confess.

“Oh, princess,” Jensen purrs, pressing his lips against my shoulder.

“Why choose?” Micah asks, stroking my hair.

Damien’s eyes gleam with affection as he leans closer, his lips grazing mine. “When you can have us all?”

My heart hammers with astonishment. “I can?” I question.

“Yes,” Damien answers, as I trace his dimples with my fingertips. “Making you happy is all that matters to us, Quinn.”

With that, I smile.

This doesn’t feel real. I have everything I’ve always wanted, right here and now with these men. My men.

What could possibly go wrong?





SEVERAL WEEKS LATER



“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom!”

“Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart,” she excitedly says, pulling me into her signature bear hug that I love so much. “I’m so happy you’re home from school for the holiday.”

“Me, too. It’s been way too long,” I say, following her into the kitchen. The aroma of Thanksgiving dinner is strong, making my mouth water. “Wow, it smells amazing in here.”

“I’m sure I’ve cooked way too much.”

“I’m good with bringing back leftovers,” I playfully reply. “We usually live off takeout.”

She checks on the large turkey in the oven before turning back to me with a smile. “How has school been?” she asks.

Sitting on the tall stool at the kitchen island, I laugh, with no humor intended.

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m literally exhausted,” I confess, stuffing a piece of cheese in my mouth.

“I bet you are. Nursing is tough, but you’re so smart. You’ll get through it,” she encourages with a smile. “I’m so proud of you, Quinn.”

I smile.

“When are your finals?” she wonders.

“The second week of December.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re almost there!” she exclaims.

“Almost.”

“How are your friends?”

“They’re good,” I casually say, even though I haven’t been spending much time with them lately.

I laugh to myself, considering I’ve spent most of my free time over the last few weeks with Damien, Jensen, and Micah. We’ve been going on romantic dates separately, and getting to know each other individually.

And I’ve been falling so hard for them, despite the lingering red flags of them being dangerous, of course.

But despite that, I can’t seem to get them off my mind.

An eager grin crosses my mother’s face, as if she senses that I’ve become lost in thought. A warm sensation creeps up on me, settling on my cheeks.

“You’re blushing,” she points out, pouring me a glass of red wine. Once she slides it across the granite countertop, she wipes off her hands with her emerald-green apron. “Spill.”

“What?” I shyly laugh.

“Quinn,” she exclaims, observing my reaction with an enthusiastic look in her eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, fidgeting with my sweaty palms on my lap.

“It’s a boy, isn’t it?”

Actually, Mom, it’s not just one boy. I’ve actually been getting my back blown out by three of them.