Symphony (Finding Their Muse Book 4)

by Bea Paige

  Love.

  My heart stutters, trying to escape my chest. Erik admitted he loves me, and it cost him nothing to share it. I wish I could be as brave. He’s so fucking brave.

  This time our kiss is different to before; it’s slow, warm and tender, like an evening summer breeze that you never want to end. He breathes life into me with every sweep of his tongue and groan against my lips, leaving me panting and breathless when he withdraws.

  I watch him climb off the bed, feeling shaky with lust and slick between my legs.

  “Undress Rose,” he commands Anton, who simply nods, his gaze falling to me.

  There’s a light in his eyes I’ve not seen for a while, and I recognise it for what it is. Anton is memorising this moment, etching it into his memory to revisit later. I hope for all our sakes it encourages him to pick up his pad and pencil again, because I know that without his art, he isn’t whole, and I need him to be. We all do.

  Keeping his gaze fixed on me, he undresses until he’s naked before us, his long hair falling about his shoulders. He’s leaner than a few weeks ago, and for a moment I worry he’s taken to drugs once more, but the glow of health shining out of his skin assures me that he hasn’t. My gaze roves over his chest and stomach and the shaded areas defining every muscle. He’s not as built as Erik or Ivan, but he is just as sexy. Lower still, his cock is thick and erect, and it occurs to me that this is the first time we’ve not fucked hidden in darkness or half shadow. I squeeze my thighs together, welcoming the throb of pleasure that pulses between my legs in anticipation.

  Besides him Ivan is still, his jaw tight, his eyes lowered, and I understand what he’s waiting for; my permission. “Ivan. I want this. There isn’t anyone I trust more than the three of you. Get undressed and join us,” I order gently.

  The tension in Ivan’s shoulders releases as he blows out a long breath. He undresses slowly, giving me a striptease that has me biting my lip, my fingers edging to the spot between my legs, wanting release and seeking it out.

  “Keep your hands still,” Erik bites out. “You are not to touch yourself, understand?”

  “Yes.” Oh, I understand alright. My skin prickles with the anticipation his command brings. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to submit… needed too.

  Ivan keeps his eyes lowered as the exchange takes place. But this time, this time I need him to see me. Need them all to see me, because even though I can’t express how I feel with words, I hope that they will understand what’s in my heart through my actions. I’m theirs for the taking. If there’s ever a time to find me at my weakest, it’s right now.

  “Ivan, I want you to keep your eyes on me. I want you all to see,” I explain, the tenor of my voice taking on the same command as Erik’s.

  Immediately, his eyes snap up, meeting mine. The absolute devotion I see in them snatches my breath, detonating my already quivering resolve. The words I’ve yet to admit, just a whisper away. I slam my mouth shut, not ready to release them.

  Not yet. Not yet.

  Swallowing hard, I move my gaze to Anton who’s standing by his side.

  “I’ll never take my eyes off you, Rose,” Anton says, grinning. His smile bringing the light instead of hiding the dark like it had before.

  Reaching over, he squeezes Ivan’s bare shoulder then walks to the end of the bed and peels off my socks. He takes his time undressing me from the feet up, paying extra care as he removes my trousers and underwear. The gentleness with which he does so unhinges me, breaks me down, and I’m reminded of the way he had massaged me until I fell asleep in his arms all those weeks ago.

  Today, I’m staying wide awake.

  “You are so beautifully flawed, Rose,” he says absorbing every inch of my skin, committing it to memory. His eyes rove over me, lingering on the ugly bruising around my knee. Kneeling on the bed beside me, Anton’s fingers whisper across my bruised skin whilst Erik and Ivan watch.

  “Is it wrong that the broken parts are my favourite?” he asks quietly, a frown drawing his eyebrows together.

  “No, it isn’t,” I reassure him. “I love that you see beauty in the parts that I find so ugly, in the parts that hurt.”

  He nods, seemingly lost to his thoughts as his warm fingers run over my now hot skin. “Is this as black as it seems?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

  “Pretty much.”

  Anton files that piece of information away, then working his way upwards, he trails a finger over the dip beneath my rib cage running it along the bone that protrudes a little more than it had before. Like him, I’ve lost some weight over the past few weeks. I’ve also lost some muscle definition too, but I’m not worried. I’ll get it back.

  He bends over, his long hair falling across my stomach as he licks along the skin pulled taut over bone. My nostrils flare as his fingers slide up my inner thigh seeking out the tender flesh between my legs. I open them further, giving him access, loving the look of pure desire in Ivan and Erik’s eyes as they watch me slowly unravel with every caress.

  Anton’s warm lips move upwards as he seeks out the scar from my shoulder surgery. The skin is still sensitive to the touch, and my nostrils flare as he presses a kiss against the raised skin.

  “This one. This is my favourite. Not because of what she did to you, but because you survived it. You’re a survivor, Rose, and now you’re ours. If anyone can guide us through this fucked-up shit, it’s you.”

  Anton’s finger moves inside me as his hot mouth slides back down my body. Behind him Ivan’s jaw ticks. He loves his best friends and he’s accepted us all together, but he finds it the hardest to deal with.

  “Get on the bed, Ivan,” I manage to utter as Anton slides another finger inside me and closes his mouth around my nipple, teasing the nub with his teeth and tongue, and sending shockwaves of pleasure to my core.

  Despite everything, Ivan doesn’t hesitate. He stretches out beside me and waits for my permission, my instruction. Needing it, needing to let go of the control and the stress he feels at all times. I turn to look at him, reaching upwards with my free hand then pinch his nipple. Hard. He cries out, flashes of relief and lust zinging in his eyes. I lick my finger and swirl it over the spot I’d just pinched, chasing away the pain with pleasure.

  “Kiss me,” I demand, as Anton shifts between my legs and lowers his mouth to my pussy.

  Ivan swallows my moans as he slides his tongue over mine, his fingers tangling in the length of my hair. My hips jerk upwards automatically as Anton replaces his finger with his tongue, pumping my swollen warmth.

  “Keep still,” he murmurs, pressing my hips into the bed and holding me down as he fucks me with his lips, tongue and fingers. I’m becoming boneless beneath them both, Ivan’s kiss devastating me just as much as Anton’s skilled mouth.

  Amid all this pleasure, I’m very aware of Erik climbing onto the bed, and I reach out blindly to him. He captures my wrist, holding me tightly then pulls my index finger into his mouth, his teeth scraping over my skin, biting on the fleshy pad. The sensation is just this side of painful and draws me up sharp from my impending orgasm.

  “You touch me when I say, Rose,” he growls, the low rumble sending goosebumps scattering over my skin. “And that isn’t happening today. This is about your pleasure. These fuckers don’t deserve any release, and neither do I. This is our punishment. We won’t leave you to your thoughts ever again.”

  In response, I pull on Ivan’s hair, yanking his head back, panting. My need to submit, to dominate, to let go completely, twisting up inside of me until I don’t know who I am anymore. Separately these men are dangerous, together they’re a goddamn nuclear bomb.

  Our eyes meet. Ivan’s are stormy, raw, and filled with unending devotion.

  Unspoken words bleed between us and my mouth pops open with the next command, only to be swallowed by a moan as Anton circles my clit with his tongue.

  “I want you to let go, Rose. I’m ordering you to,” Erik demands, towering above us all. He
bites the delicate flesh of my wrists, before sucking the pain away and licking my skin.

  My response to Erik’s ministrations is captured by Ivan’s brutal kiss.

  And it is brutal, because he doesn’t hold back, and I understand now why he refused to kiss the women who he’d once dominated. Ivan’s kisses are devastating in their intensity. If a kiss could sear a soul in two, it would be his.

  I let out a groan as he pulls away, then cry out as Anton nips my sensitive flesh. I look down at him, at my wetness glistening on his lips and beard.

  “Don’t stop. Fucking eat her out, Anton. Make her come,” Erik growls.

  Anton grins then slides his tongue provocatively over his lips before burying his head back between my legs. My back arches as I pull his head tighter against me, rocking against his mouth.

  “Keep your eyes open. Look at them both, Rose,” Erik says, as Ivan moves lower, wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking hard just as Anton nips my clit between his teeth. I hadn’t told Ivan he could touch me that way, but I’m too far gone to reprimand him. But then again, who cares? Right now, all the lines are blurred. They are so damn blurry that I wonder whether I’ll ever see a straight line again. If I’ll ever want too.

  “Don’t think, Rose. Just let yourself go,” Erik says as watches us from above. His cock jumps in response to the whimpers of ecstasy that I’m unable to keep inside, and with every lick and every tug at my tender flesh I slide into a still unfamiliar place where emotions hold both allure and paralysing fear.

  Because right now, I feel everything.

  I feel the soul-stripping pleasure of their kisses, their touch. I feel intense pain in my knee and shoulder, both spots now throbbing in time to the frantic beat of my heart only serving to heighten the pleasure more. And the words I want to shout out? They’re hovering on my lips. I’m close to freefalling into a place I’ve always dreamed of, but I know that once I voice them, I can’t take the words back. When I utter them, I want to be sure that I have no reason to wish I hadn’t.

  Erik bites and nibbles at my fingers and palm, understanding that I need the pain to counteract the intense pleasure. I can barely see straight as Ivan and Anton work in tandem, their skilled hands and mouths relentless in their pursuit of my release.

  My senses are overloaded. It’s too much... it’s not nearly enough.

  Tipping my head back, I let out a long groan at the orgasm brewing deep within me. It swirls up and outwards from my core like a tsunami, building speed as it takes hold.

  Ivan and Anton don’t stop. Between them they draw out the most delicious, earth shattering orgasm that makes my eyes roll back in my head, but it’s only when Erik grasps my chin and forces me to look at him, that I finally let go.

  “Come!” he demands.

  So, I do.

  I come hard and fast, my body juddering as though it’s been electrocuted. For the longest moments I’m filled with the kind of blissful release that I imagine only people in love feel.

  Then I realise that person is me. I’m in love, and this magic, this is the result.

  “I…” the unspoken words hover between us as my men find their space surrounding me, engulfing me in their arms. I feel safe. Safe in the arms of these men who have the power to destroy me like no other who’ve come before.

  “It’s okay, Rose,” Ivan mutters, burying his face in my hair, breathing me in.

  I’m wrecked. Satiated. Fulfilled, and utterly and completely exhausted. I don’t manage to utter the final, most important words before darkness swallows me and I tumble into the blissful void.

  “Rose, come back,” Anton says, his voice as warm as fur wrapped around the softest leather. “You sure know how to scare the shit out of us.”

  I blink back the stars that pinprick my vision. Wait, did I just pass out after the most intense orgasm I’ve experienced in my life?

  “What happened exactly?” I mutter, as all three men slowly come back into focus. Anton is sitting next to me, fully dressed and drawing circles on the back of my hand. Ivan is pacing up and down, stopping the second he hears me speak, and Erik is staring out of the window a tick in his jaw jumping.

  “You came, then I think your body finally decided that enough was enough… Sorry about that,” Anton responds, smiling ruefully. He’s not sorry at all. In fact, I’m pretty sure his head has expanded more than just a few inches during the time I’ve been out cold.

  “Dr Smithton did warn me not to do anything too strenuous…” I mumble.

  “He warned all of us,” Ivan adds, striding over to my side, and sitting next to me. “But we ignored him anyway. Not the smartest decision we’ve ever made.”

  “But the most fun,” I say, with a small laugh.

  Anton chuckles, but Ivan frowns, clasping my hand tightly in his.

  “I’m fine, Ivan,” I reassure him. “You gave me what I needed, don’t feel guilty.”

  He seems to accept that, but the concern he has for me is heart-warming. Not so long ago, Ivan didn’t allow himself to feel, choosing to find release with a knife cutting through his skin. All his scars are healed now, and I’m going to make sure he’ll never have a reason to inflict more.

  “Where did you go, Rose?” Anton asks me, cupping my cheek in his hand and drawing my attention back to him.

  “The darkness,” I respond softly.

  He nods, understanding. “How was it?”

  “Peaceful.”

  “Good.”

  Anton rests his head on the pillow beside me and continues to draw circles over my bare skin. Circles that turn into shapes. It’s a good sign and following my blissful orgasm, the most positive thing to happen since I was shot.

  Behind him, Erik is silently staring out of the window. He’s pulled on his slacks, but he’s not wearing a top and the muscles of his back are bunched with tension that I wish I could ease. He’s suffering still, because of Ms Hadley. Because I’m not fit enough to submit so that he can feel in control.

  “Erik?” I say carefully.

  His shoulders tense. “We have a visitor,” he responds, turning around slowly to face us. His face is grim. Hard. Angry.

  “Who?” Ivan stands, sensing the unease and the rage rolling off his best friend.

  Erik’s gaze flicks to Anton, whose face pales with realisation. “Viktor.”

  Chapter 7

  Anton

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I shout, pressing my finger into my father’s chest.

  He raises an eyebrow at me, peering down the length of his nose. He’s always so fucking regal, like he’s the king of every damn castle, and we’re mere servants who should bow and scrape in his presence.

  “That’s no way to greet your father.” A dismissive chuckle escapes his lips, a sound I’ve heard so many times over the years. But I refuse to be that kid he could belittle so easily and tear apart with a few choice words.

  “Fuck you,” I snarl, anger flooding my blood as I launch for him, landing a punch square on his jaw. The sound of his surprise is drowned out by the loud crack of bone meeting bone.

  His hand flies to his chin, as his eyes narrow, and I swear to god, there’s respect flooding within them. The sick bastard.

  “I see you’ve finally grown a backbone. About fucking time.”

  I raise my fist again, but feel a firm hand squeezing my shoulder. “Anton,” Ivan warns.

  This time it’s my turn to shrug him off.

  “No, Ivan. He doesn’t get to come here, not after what he’s done!”

  “And what’s that, son?” my father asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Protecting the woman who brought you up when your own mother was too high to do the same, too weak and pathetic to look after you? You’re cut from the same cloth.”

  “You, cunt! Don’t fucking talk about my mother like that. You made her into that person. At least now she’s at fucking peace. I wish I could say the same about us, but you insist in pushing your way into our lives again and agai
n. We don’t want you, and we certainly don’t want your little bitch in our lives anymore. Now, get the fuck out!”

  “You heard Ant. You’re not welcome. Don’t make this any uglier than it needs to be,” Erik says calmly. He steps forward, flanking my side, whilst Ivan flanks the other.

  “I’m not here to see Anton. I’m here for you, actually,” my father says to Erik, dismissing me with a flick of his wrist. Well, there’s a fucking surprise.

  I try not to flinch as though I’ve been slapped, but ever the perceptive man, my father notices and his lip curls up in an ugly smile. For years I’ve dreamed of wiping that smile off his face and now’s my chance. I step towards him, but this time both Ivan and Erik grab my wrists to hold me back. All the pain I’ve felt over his lack of love and any kind of affection boils inside my chest. I want to rip him to shreds just like he’s done to me repeatedly over the years. I want him to feel just a fraction of the hurt and disappointment that I’ve felt every second of my life being his son.

  “I don’t give a shit. Get your sorry arse out of here…” Erik snaps.

  My father holds his hand up, arrogant as usual. “Wait. Let me say what I came here to say, and then I’ll leave.”

  “No!” The three of us say simultaneously.

  “I came all this way, and I’m going to say what I must. Then I’ll leave,” he repeats, stubborn to a fault.

  “Are you deaf? They’ve asked you to leave, now leave!”

  I spin around on my feet to see Rose at the top of the stairs, one hand leaning on a crutch, the other holding onto the rail. What the fuck does she think she’s doing?

  Ignoring the snort of derision from my father, I run up the stairs two at a time.

  “What are you thinking, Rose? Do you want to break your neck?” I say when I reach her.

  “Not mine, no,” she responds, narrowing her eyes at my father.

  “Let me help you back to your room,” I say, tucking my arm around her waist. She leans on me, clearly exhausted from the short walk from her room to this point.