Page 37 of Lords of Misrule
A moment later he comes hard, gripping my hips and then pulling me closer to him. He slips out of me and grabs my jaw, nipping his way down the edge of it. I turn the recording off. His eyes track down to my thighs in the mirror, another grin on his face as he kisses me.
“Fuck I love watching my come drip out of you.” He dots another kiss on my jaw. “Keep that recording too. We’ll use it again sometime.”
“Rowan…”
“Duchess…” He smacks my ass and then turns on the shower for me. “You sleep in my bed tonight.”
He cleans himself up and then heads out, leaving me to take my shower. My phone dings a moment later, and I open the text assuming it’s him with another taunt from the bedroom. But it’s not.
Colin:
I love it. I’ll send you one later.
Twenty
Hudson
When I get in that evening after going to my video game night, I tuck my phone in my pocket before I toss my bag on the floor next to the rest of the gear the guys have lying inside the door. I make my way through the kitchen and into the living room. It’s oddly dark in the house. Normally at this hour Rowan and Finn are playing a video game or watching a movie, propped up with snacks and drinks on the couch. Since Charlotte’s made her home here, she’s usually with them or at the kitchen table working on something.
I notice the strip of dull light coming through the pocket doors that lead to the office Rowan’s claimed for himself, and I see a flash of movement through the sliver of the opening. They must be in there working on the plan or prepping for something, and I’m a little pissed I’ve been left out of the equation. So I don’t think twice when I pull the pocket door, half-ready to give them shit. Not remotely expecting what I see there, my heart jolts in my chest and all the blood in my body floods south.
Charlotte’s on the leather couch, completely fucking naked and on all fours, her face between Rowan’s thighs. Rowan’s sitting on the arm of the couch, his hand wrapped around a fistful of her hair as she takes him in her mouth. Her lips are over him in rhythm with the thrust of Finn’s hips as he kneels on the other side of the couch, fucking her from behind. She moans as he fucks her harder and all of it—the sight of it, the sounds of her, the realization the three of them are fucking and I’m an outsider to this (and worst of all a massive surge of jealousy) hits me at once like a fucking freight train of adrenaline.
I hear ringing in my ears, and I go to turn quickly. I want to get out of here before they see me. Because the second they look at me—the secondshelooks at me—the jealousy is going to be written all over my face. I feel bitter enough without being embarrassed on top of it.
Unfortunately, I’m too fucking graceless and forget where the door is, slamming my nose into it. I fucking yelp loudly just before the black at the edges fades in, and I hit my knees feeling like I’m about to pass out from the pain. Somewhere in the periphery, I hear the three of them gasp and call out for me, followed by a blur of movement. I lift my head and blood’s pouring out my nose like I’ve just been hit on the ice.
I think I fucking want to die here.
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Rowan’s come over and is staring at me like I’m an idiot until the sight of the blood makes his brow crease into worry. “Did you fucking break it?”
“Oh my god. Hudson!” Charlotte’s tone is all concern, and she’s on her knees next to me a moment later, covered up in Finn’s oversized shirt. “Are you okay? Oh my god. Okay well someone go get some towels. And hurry! He’s bleeding everywhere. Ice too. Shit, Hudson. What happened?”
Her hands cup under mine, catching some of the blood that’s dripping down over my fingers and trying to keep it from landing on my clothes. It’s humiliating, and I start to pull away.
“Don’t move.” Her hand goes to my shoulder to stop me while the other one continues to try to stop the blood. “Let Finn get a towel first.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
She’s right. I’m not fine because I’m fucking hard, still, and bleeding out my face after having interrupted their fucking threesome.
“Here.” Finn’s hand is suddenly in front of me holding a towel, and I blot at my nose. “Use pressure or it won’t stop.”
He would know. He’s had enough nose bleeds and broken noses to be a PhD level expert on them.
“I’ll get some ice.” Charlotte stands, and all I see is skin—all the way up her long legs to her thighs—and a flash of more under that shirt. I close my eyes.
“I know it fucking hurts.” Finn tries to reassure me. “It’ll get better once she gets some ice for you.”
There’s not enough fucking ice in the world right now. I needed fucking buckets of it. Maybe a whole tub I could submerge myself in. I’ve already felt guilty as fuck for crushing on Charlotte. Soph has been so distant lately. Barely wanting to talk to me or answer my texts. Never wanting to video chat. It’s been two weeks since I’ve even heard her voice.
Being alone all the fucking time with my thoughts is hard as fuck. I’ve been trying desperately to think of Soph whenever I get myself off, but Charlotte is always there at the edges of my mind creeping in. I’ve imagined what she’d look like naked and none of my fantasies have lived up to the real thing. This is going to be difficult as fuck to block out from my memory, and I need to.
A moment later she’s on her knees again, a pack of ice out of the freezer on hand. We have enough injuries in this house after games that we keep it stocked.
“Here, why don’t we get you up? You can sit on the couch,” she offers.
