Page 12 of You're ours now

My palms are sweating as I press the button for the elevator. When the doors open, I reluctantly get inside and press the button for the lobby, then close my eyes and keep them shut until the doors slide open. I’m surprised when I step out—it’s no longer pitch-black. There is now a dim light, giving the room enough illumination to see.

I stand there and wait, unsure of what is coming next. Then the lights flicker and cut out, sending the room into pitch darkness, the contrast from the slight illumination making it darker than before. I haven’t had time for my eyes to adjust, so I can’t see shit. Spinning in a circle, I look for the glow of a mask. Will he even wear the mask? Shit, my brain spins with a hundred more questions, but before I can overanalyze them, the glow from a pink mask catches my eye. The rush of excitement and adrenaline has my stomach in knots.

I don’t wait for him to say anything; I turn around to run.

However, I hit a solid brick wall.

I look up to find a second mask right there, then the man wearing it places his hands on my shoulders. The feel of his gloves on my skin is rough, but goosebumps rise at the thought of him pulling my hair.

“She was trying to run from us,” a distorted voice says from behind me.

“Naughty girls should be punished,” his companion replies.

“Let’s give her a head start. If she can outrun us, she can have unlimited orgasms. But if we catch her, I think I will start by spanking her ass.”

Shivers rattle down my spine—both options sound so good. Though being spanked sounds a lot better.

The man removes his hands from my shoulders and says, “One...”

I don’t wait, darting away as fast as I can. The thrill has my underwear soaking; never in my life have I been this turned on. This is what I want, though it doesn’t have to be all the time. I would still like to make love to someone, but I don’t want a man who thinks I’m fragile. Pull my hair, spank my ass, cut off my air just a little, and bite me. I blame Zayne for the biting kink. He gets overstimulated sometimes when he hugs people and will bite, not enough that it hurts, and he often doesn’t even realize he does it.

“You’re ours now. You can’t hide from us,” one of the distorted voices says.

In the dark, this resort is like a maze, a series of hallways and exits. I take a sharp left and push through a double set of doors as the sound of boots against the tiled floor grows closer. My eyes have slightly adjusted to the dark now and I can just make out the shadowy shapes of a bar. As I scan the room, the door across from me opens and another masked man steps inside, just before the one trailing me pushes through the doors I just entered.

Shit!My brain short circuits. I can’t decide what to do or where to run.

Chapter Seven

Zayne

Watching Mellie run from me dressed in her white corset and matching lace panties does things to me. And I’ve discovered running in these damn pants with a hard-on is almost impossible. Unfortunately, since we watched Storm fuck her in the pool area, my dick hasn’t gone down.

I have been in love with Mellie since we were sixteen, and before that I didn’t know what the feelings I had meant. While I should have told her how I felt before now, I’m not the only one who feels this way about her. Before I met North, I didn’t think it was a good idea to pursue her—besides, I wouldn’t have given up what Julius and I have. Now, as I watch her run inside the bar, I know it’s the perfect place for us to both fuck her.

“She’s gone inside the bar,” I say over our comms.

“I’m about to step inside,” Julius replies.

Storm is in his own head, feeling like a complete asshole for fucking her bare, even if he knows she is on birth control and that they are both clean. He feels guilty because she doesn’t know it’s him, and he’s hating himself for putting her in a situation she didn’t ask for. If she’d said she had a breeding kink, nowthatwould be a different story. Storm needs to look at the positives. He made her come just from fucking, and that will be huge for her.

As I push through the doors, I spot Julius already on the other side of the room. Mellie whips her head back to look at me and I smirk behind my mask. Julius strides across the room, and I take a step toward her. Will she run or accept her fate? It seems she has given up running for now, but that’s Mellie, exercise and her don’t mix—she claims she’s allergic.

Julius reaches her first, and steps in close behind her.

Her body visibly trembles, not in fear, but from his proximity. The way she responds to our touch is something out of my dreams, and I’m not ashamed to admit I dream about her often. I always keep it to myself, knowing it could change our friendship. It’s what kept me away—a life without Mellie in it would suck. I love comforting her, touching her, and not having her in even a platonic way would kill me. She and the guys are the only family I have left, and nothing and no one will make me give them up.

I move forward until she is trapped between both our bodies. Julius made us wear some cheap body spray because she’d recognize our normal colognes, and the smell is making me nauseous while bringing back terrible memories of our teenage years. Mellie has hand-picked each scent we have worn since the day we turned twenty-one. I wouldn’t care if she bottled up cat piss and told me to wear it—I’d do it for her.

“I can smell how turned on you are, Miss Foster,” Julius says in his distorted voice. He is a fucking genius for getting these masks. “Is that for us?”

He wraps his hand around her stomach and slides it beneath the small scrap of material that covers her pussy. She nods her head as her chest rises and falls. Fuck, she is beautiful. I wish her hair was out; I love the curls. She has them piled up on top of her head, like she always does when she can’t be bothered with the million products she uses. It’s called the curly girl method or some shit like that.

“I asked you a question,” he demands, then pulls her hair from its bun and twists his fingers in the curls, yanking her head back. He slides his hand from her panties and brings his fingers up, holding them in front of her face. “I asked if this was for us.”

“Yes,” she pants.

“Good. Now part those pretty lips.”

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