Page 52 of Gambit
“Tonight’s the night,” I say. The air hangs heavy with my declaration.
“To do what?” Tarquin asks with a fierce frown.
“We’re trying this again, and this time, we are seeing it through.”
“Eliza, are you sure about this?” James asks immediately, his voice laced with concern. He pushes a textbook aside and leans forward.
“Positive. It’s happening. No backing out.”
Their gazes exchange silent words, but they nod slowly, knowing they won’t be able to change my mind.
“Good.” I spin on my heel, head high, not waiting for further discussion. “Now move!”
Excitement curls in my stomach as I dart off, yanking the front door open and leaving it for the guys to pour through. Fear nips at the edges. I let it. It fuels me, drives me forward into the darkness. My heart does more than pound, it races, urging me on.
With my bare feet on the dew-damp grass, I move, my white dress a ghost against the night. My breath quickens, clouds in the cool air. This is what I want, what I need. To face the beast of fear and ride it to ecstasy. They’ll be my hunters tonight, but I’m no easy prey.
Entering the forest, the guys close behind me this time, and my senses sharpen. Every snap of a twig, every whisper of leaves is them. But I don’t look back. I run, my pulse thrumming, my body alive with the chase. The game is on.
I push through the underbrush, brambles snagging at the hem of my dress. A branch snaps behind me—close, too close—and I know they’re tracking me, their presence just a shadow’s breath away in the forest’s dark embrace.
“Eliza,” comes Raphael’s voice, low and teasing, a thread of excitement woven through it. No fear in his tone; he relishes this as much as I do. My name on his lips is both a promise and a challenge. But I know he wants to keep me close. They all do. They have me in their sights even as I run. It’s reassuring.
I don’t answer him, I just bolt deeper into the trees, my breath coming in quick gasps. The air tastes of earth and the impending thrill of capture.
“Where are you, little girl?” James calls out. “You can’t hide forever.”
The rustle of leaves grows louder than my blood roaring through my veins.
Adrenaline floods me like a shot of the purest high. It’s a surge that screams for me to run faster, even as part of me aches for the moment they’ll catch up. I can almost feel their hands on me, grabbing, hurting, claiming, taking, reminding me I belong to them.
I veer left, pushing my body to its limits, heading straight for the patch in the woods where I want them to catch me.
As I burst into the small clearing, big enough for the five of us and no more, I scream in real fear as James steps out of the trees and grabs me.
Before I know it, Oliver’s arms wrap around my waist from behind, lifting me off the ground. I kick and thrash, but it’s no use; his grip is ironclad. Raphael and Tarquin flank us, their presence unmoving as they help to subdue my struggling form.
“Let me go!” I cry, playing my part to the hilt, the fear of their arrival still driving my body separately from my brain. The whole point is to be caught, overpowered by their combinedstrength, to relinquish control to the men who are both my protectors and my lovers, but I’m more skittish than I realised.
But this is good. This is exactly what I need to overcome.
Oliver places me on the ground as Tarquin zip ties my hands in front of me, for which I will owe him a debt of gratitude. I was dreading them being secured behind my back, more than I thought before right now.
Oliver’s chest is against my back, his breath hot on my neck as he gives me a salacious lick up the side of my face that sets my skin pinging.
“Such easy prey,” James murmurs, dragging out his knife, the thin, sharp blade making me shiver.
“Fuck off,” I shout, struggling in Oliver’s grip.
They’ve got me, and I’m at their mercy. A tingle of exhilaration runs through me. This is not just about sex; it’s about trust, power, and the unbreakable bond between us. This is our world, one we’ve built together, where we explore the deepest, darkest parts of ourselves without judgement or fear.
The cold steel of James’ blade slips beneath the fabric of my dress, and with a swift tug, it parts along the seam. The sound of rending cotton is dangerously intimate in the quiet of the forest. Tarquin’s eyes meet mine, unapologetic, as he peels away the cloth, exposing my skin to the night air.
“Look at her,” he murmurs, pinching my nipples hard and tugging them, making me squirm. “So pretty, so innocent. I want to rip that innocence away.”
Fuck. He’s too good at this.
“We’re going to destroy you, little killer,” Raphael’s voice is rough, close to my ear, his fingers trailing down my arm.
