Page 151 of Cruel Pleasures
I’m rubbing her stomach and talking her through her orgasm. “You were so good, minxy. You let it all out. When was the last time you let yourself feel so good? You’re coming home with us.”
Imani lays still once her orgasm finishes ringing through her body. Her blinks are slow and dazed, her mouth poutier than usual. She’s so overcome, it’s like she’s incapable of doing much beyond melting in our grasp.
I stroke her cheek and tilt her face toward mine for a kiss of praise. “Will you be packing your things or shall we?”
39. Ryu
Power Couple - Labrinth
“Don’t check out on us, minx,” Hurst warns. He glides his knuckles along the curve of her cheek. “If we have to tie you up and take you home by force, we’re prepared to do so.”
“Hurst,” I say. “Give her a moment. Don’t smother her. She needs to come down from what just happened.”
Hurst looks tempted to argue until he clamps his mouth shut and concedes my point. Just a few months ago, even such a small exchange would’ve escalated to violent levels between us. We’ve since made progress. We’ve… come to an understanding.
Imani might believe she walked out of our life when she boarded the small charter plane that took her off the Isle of Hurst. But she would be wrong to hold that belief—we’ve never let her out of our sight. We simply returned to our surveillance from afar.
Observing Imani every moment of every day.
We quickly discovered the time apart was necessary, not only for her but for us. We needed to decide what we were going to do about our situation.
Our options were laid out before us. We could continue our feud until one of us destroyed the other and came out as victor (or we both were destroyed). We could walk away from the situation and Imani entirely and do our best to pretend it never happened and we hadn’t developed the obsession we had.
Or we could find a way to compromise.
It was a contentious road to reach the decision we have. Several times we sought to discuss the matter and ended up at each other’s throats. We’d emerge from our intense negotiations bloodied and sporting bruises we’d inflicted on each other. Walking away entirely wasn’t an option and neither of us wanted to concede.
This went on for weeks.
While Imani sunk deeper into grief and depression, we coped with our fists and weapons. One night, after a particularly violent battle, we’d checked in on her to find her locked away in her room, her face buried in her pillow.
She was sobbing. All alone at a time she should’ve been cared for.
We were supposed to be caring for her, and instead we were busy fighting.
It was the final straw. The wakeup call we needed to realize what we had to do.
Put our pride, our egos, and our selfishness aside.
“This isn’t happening,” Imani sighs, dropping her face into her hands. “I said never again. I let myself get mixed up in things I had no business being a part of. The Midnight Society?—”
“Hear us out,” Hurst says. “We’re not here because of the society. It barely exists after all the chaos that was the games. We’re here because we won’t let you go on like you have.”
She lifts her head from her hands to peer at us, her brows drawn close. “I can’t be hearing you right. Because it sounds like you think I’m the problem? You’ve got to be fucking kidding. You’ve broken into my house and just… just fucked with me all over again when I said I want nothing to do with you, and I’m the problem?”
I brush a lock of her hair away from her brow. “Hurst is right. You can’t keep living like you have been. It’s not good for you.”
“And you two are?”
“Yes,” I answer. “We will care for you like you need. We will give you what you’re missing.”
“I don’t need anything… or anyone.”
“You say that, but you’re lying, minx. You know you are.”
We’ve both crowded closer, unable to help ourselves. On either side of her, she’s given soft, soothing touches and undivided attention. Her throat works in a struggle for her next swallow, so overcome she can’t find her voice.
“How?” she croaks. “You hate each other’s guts. I’m surprised one of you hasn’t turned up dead.”
