Page 47 of Rule
The pure satisfaction of feeling their huge cocks slide into me again and then back out, drives me over the edge.
"That's it. Come for us, baby girl," Max urges against my ear as he kisses the sensitive skin on my neck.
"Fuck, yes!" I scream and give him what he wants as Adam unloads into my pussy, and Miles fills my ass at the same time.
Nothing has ever felt more beautiful.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Scarlet
An ominous knock interrupts our intimate conversation, and I exchange glances with my husbands, sensing their uneasiness. "I'll get it," Max says, slipping on his robe and going to the door.
“Robbie,” Max murmurs, peering around it. “What is it?”
After some muttered curses and exchanges, Max closes the door and returns to me with a package.
“This was left for you outside,” Max says, holding it out of my reach.
"I don’t like this,” Miles murmurs, concern etched on his face, as he climbs off the bed and carefully takes it from Max. "Something feels wrong."
"Let's not jump to conclusions," I reply, trying to quell the anxiety bubbling up within me.
We go silent, staring at the simply wrapped package, and then jump a mile when a phone rings in someone’s pants from somewhere on the floor.
“Mine,” Tristan says, leaping off the bed to grapple with his pants until he finds his phone. “JSP,” he adds.
Answering it, he turns from us and doesn’t say much, knowing we are all eavesdropping.
“I see,” he mutters and then hangs up. Turning to face me, his expression is grim and pissed off.
“What is it?” I ask, not sure if I want to know the answer or not.
"Beth... she committed suicide in prison, apparently, and would you know, at the same time, Caitlin was found murdered in her home.”
The words sting like venom, and my breath catches in my throat.
“What?” I mutter. “Both dead?”
“Yeah, someone got to Beth in prison. That’s not a suicide, I guarantee it,” he growls. “Fuck!”
“Does it matter?” Miles asks. “They’re both dead, and they can’t hurt Scarlet ever again."
“Yes, it matters,” Tristan grits out. “It means we owe someone. Twice.”
“Not necessarily. We didn’t ask—.”
“Asking makes no difference,” Max interrupts. “Tristan’s right. This is a ‘favor,’ and now we owe whomever it was. Justin have any ideas?”
Tristan shakes his head as I sit there, trembling at the weight of this news.
We sit in silence, each processing this unexpected and eerie news, wondering who the fuck has that much power to not only get to Beth in prison and make it look like a suicide but to kill a police Detective under watch. But then I remember the package. The timing wasn’t a coincidence.
“What’s in the package?” I croak, holding my hand out for it.
“No,” Miles says, snatching it away from me. “Let me run some tests first.”
“Don’t be daft. If someone wanted us dead, they wouldn’t send a shoebox-sized package.”
