Symphony (Finding Their Muse Book 4)

by Bea Paige

  “Not right now. I want to talk with Erik in private. We’ll meet them in the parlour in a little while before our guest turns up.” Rose can’t seem to help the sarcasm when it comes to Emmie and her imminent visit.

  I get it. I too feel weird in my skin today. This isn’t going to be easy for me, for any of us.

  “Sure. Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” Fran says, bustling out of the room but not before giving Rose a look of her own. I’m pretty sure it’s a look that says; ‘go easy on him’.

  “Rose,” I begin the moment the door shuts.

  “Don’t!” she responds, pulling back the sheets and sliding out of the bed. She hobbles towards the ensuite, not allowing me to explain. So much for her cuddling up to me in her sleep. Just goes to show she was pretty much unconscious when I slid into bed beside her. I had hoped she’d forgiven me for accepting Emmie’s visit.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I growl under my breath as she disappears inside the bathroom. I didn’t ask Emmie to come. She sought me out, not the other way around. Frankly, I’m just as surprised and as shocked as Rose is. Emmie was the last person on earth I wanted to talk to, but she has something that might help us with Ms Hadley, or at least that’s what she said. I’d wanted her to tell me over the phone, but she’d insisted she had to come and see me in person. I must admit that curiosity and a sick kind of fascination to see how the girl who’d broken my heart turned out had swayed my decision. But then again, I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to fucking cope with her in the same room as me, let alone listen to what she has to say. I hadn’t considered that when I agreed for her to come. What I do know is that I need Rose on my side, because I can’t fucking do it without her. I can’t.

  Leaping out of bed, I stride over to the bathroom and push open the door. Rose is struggling to get herself undressed, hopping on one foot and cursing under her breath at the same time.

  “What are you doing?” I say gruffly. “Let me help.”

  “I can manage perfectly well on my own, Erik,” she snaps, ignoring me and nearly toppling into the basin.

  “Stop being so stubborn,” I snap back, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her upright.

  “I am not stubborn,” she retorts, her cheeks rosy and anger blazing in her eyes.

  “You’re also being pissy.”

  She glares at me, yanking her arm out of my hold. “If you don’t like it, you know what you can do.”

  “You’re being intolerable, Rose. Childish. Snap out of it!”

  Her nostrils flare, but this time she’s not backing down.

  “Childish? Intolerable?” she repeats, pressing her finger into my chest, whilst simultaneously sliding down her pyjama bottoms and somehow managing to wriggle out of them. I wonder if she realises that she isn’t wearing any underwear. My cock stiffens, tenting my boxer shorts in response.

  “Yes, all of the above. Jealous too, I might add.”

  Her mouth snaps open, then slams shut. She narrows her eyes at me. “And if I said an old flame I’d been in love with was coming to visit, how would that make you feel? I’m pretty sure you’d have trouble with it too. In fact, I’m more than positive you’d be a beast about it.”

  “You weren’t truly in love with anyone before us, Rose. So, nope, wouldn’t be jealous,” I respond, this time holding in a laugh at the look of incredulity on her face. God, I never realised this kind of banter could be so much fun. She’s always been so careful not to lose her shit around me, that doing so now is refreshing and a massive fucking turn-on. She’s angry and feisty and I’m not losing my head in the slightest. Another huge step forward for me, for us both.

  “Number one, that’s not true, I did love Roman. You might not like that fact, I might not, but it’s the truth.”

  Admittedly that cuts a bit, but the fucker’s dead thankfully, and if he were alive it wouldn’t be for long.

  “Number two,” she says, poking her finger into my chest, “Who said anything about me being in love with you all?” she huffs, leaning her pert arse against the sink and pulling off her t-shirt. Now she stands fully naked before me, and I see the spark of a challenge in her eyes. So, she knows exactly what she’s doing then, provoking me like this. Our kind of dom-sub relationship was never going to be straight forward. She’s too fiery, too headstrong to submit without a fight. And whilst I need her to submit to the punishment and the pleasure I dish out; I still need her to be strong enough to accept it. I like her fire. It’s the kind of fire that heats me up without turning me to ash.

  Folding my arms across my chest, I step backwards until my back hits the opposite wall. From this distance I run my gaze up and down her naked body lazily, before slowly meeting her gaze. The air is fraught with tension and lust, and I fucking adore her for distracting me like this.

  “Number one, Roman is dead,” I retort, mocking her just a little. Her nostrils flare and I have the sudden urge to wrap her hair around my fist and yank her to me. Instead, I continue to goad her, having way too much fun with this kind of banter. Is this what it feels like to be in a normal relationship?

  “No shit,” she retorts, spots of colour sitting high on her cheeks as she regards me. She’s turned on, those rosy cheeks telling me as much as the sharp points of her nipples.

  “Number two, you’re not fooling any of us. Just because you haven’t said the words like we have, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  Rose huffs, muttering under her breath, mimicking me as she folds her arms across her chest, pushing her plump breasts together and forming a rather sexy cleavage that I have a very urgent need to lick or stick my cock between.

  “You need to stop being so indignant and get over here,” I say, opening my arms, expecting her to walk straight into them. When she doesn’t, I frown.

  “Why did you agree to her coming here, Erik?” she murmurs, her eyes dropping, evaporating all the fun from the room as she bleeds hurt and jealousy, her insecurities haemorrhaging.

  I heave a sigh of my own. This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but I’ve asked Rose to show me her truth time and time again, and I can’t deny her my respect and my honesty when she bares herself so openly to me now.

  “Various reasons, mainly because she has news about Ms Hadley, but also because I was curious to see how she turned out…” I admit, then wish I could take the words back when Rose flinches as though I’ve slapped her. “I didn’t mean…”

  “Save it,” she retorts, trying to stride out of the room with dignity, but hobbling instead because her damn knee is still not healed enough to fully hold her weight.

  “Wait!” I snap, a sudden flash of anger rearing inside of me now. Not anger at Rose per se, just angry at the situation and my stupid runaway mouth.

  “Get out of my way, Erik,” she mutters.

  “No,” I respond. Inside I can feel the part of me that’s been kept at bay these past few weeks, rearing its ugly head. I reach out and grasp her arm realising I’m holding onto her tightly, but not able to release my grip.

  “I’ve not given you permission to leave, Rose. So where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I bite out, losing control of the situation and my emotions quickly.

  “Screw you,” she retorts under her breath, but she doesn’t stop me when I haul her back against my chest. And she doesn’t stop me when I rub my cock up and down the crack of her arse, only the thin material of my boxers separating us. My arm wraps around her waist and I lift her off her feet and place her before the mirror, lifting her chin so that she looks at our reflection. A flush of pink rushes up from her chest to her neck and cheeks, and I know I have her exactly where I want her. The pretty bloom of colour so like her namesake.

  “Place your hands on the sink, Rose,” I say, my voice lowering as I whisper the command into her ear. I bite her lobe, not once taking my eyes off her beautiful fucking reflection. Her body goes rigid, and for one awful moment I think she’s going to deny me.

  Then she lets out a whoosh of breath
and nods, relenting to my will.

  “I’ve waited long enough for this, Rose. I’m not going to wait a moment longer. Lean forward,” I demand.

  She slides her hands over the cold surface of the vanity unit, folding herself over the sink giving me a rather beautiful view of her plump, ripe arse and the pink slash of her pussy.

  “Safe word,” I grind out, barely able to restrain myself.

  “Green…” she responds, a tiny smirk pulling up her lips as her eyes narrow at me.

  I cock an eyebrow. “Because it’s the colour of your eyes or the colour of your jealousy?”

  “Both,” she responds without apology.

  “Green for jealousy it is then,” I respond, grinning.

  Running the flat of my palm over the curve of her arse, I enjoy this moment of tension before raising my hand and slapping it against her right arse cheek with a loud thwack.

  Her body jolts forwards as she lets out a yelp, her creamy skin darkening a pretty shade of red with my handprint. My cock fucking leaps and it takes all my restraint to not yank off my boxer shorts and enter her with one hard thrust.

  “You do know that you’re mine, don’t you, Rose?”

  She doesn’t answer me, and I punish her for it just like I know she wants. I’ve come to realise that silence is a weapon Rose wields to get us to bend to her will. A tiny smile flutters across her lips as a matching handprint blooms on her left arse cheek like two wings for my tortured angel.

  “Do you understand what you are to me, Rose? You’re my fallen angel. Broken and too dark to ever return to heaven, but strong enough to bear the weight of your sins and those sins of the ones you choose to love. You fucking lift me up, Rose, and I intend on doing the same for you.”

  She’s fallen so many times that I find it incomprehensible that she’s had the strength to pull herself up over and over again. Now that we’re by her side, we’ll always catch her when she falls. Every fucking time.

  “I’m going to repeat the question. Do you understand that you are mine?”

  Her head falls forward, as I slap her thigh this time, drawing a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

  “Answer the question,” I demand, pulling my boxers down, kicking them from my feet. My cock falls free, resting against her lower back between the two dimples that taunt me there.

  “Until yesterday I thought I was. But now…”

  “Emmie?” I ask her, my fingers trailing over the red marks, soothing the sting of my slap. I get just as much pleasure from soothing her pain as I do from inflicting it. She groans, pushing her arse back against me, searching for relief. Leaning forward, I adjust myself against her, my cock sliding against the slick wetness of her pussy but not entering; teasing and coaxing instead.

  “Yes, of course Emmie. Who else?” she bites out, sarcasm bleeding from her voice between her moans of pleasure. That deserves another slap. Rose jerks forward, tensing with the pain then relaxing as I soothe her.

  “You know that you’re pushing it, Rose? Is that your intention or am I to expect this snarky side from here on out?” I stop my ministrations, withdrawing slightly. There are other ways to punish her.

  Her head snaps up, a mixture of challenge, anger and acceptance in her gaze. “Look, you were right. I’m jealous, okay. I’m not proud of it, but I am.”

  “Jealousy is such an ugly sin, Rose,” I remind her. She knows as well as I do the damage it can cause. I might tell her that she’s mine, but she’s also Anton’s and Ivan’s too. I accept that wholeheartedly. I’m not jealous of my brothers even though I would kill anyone else who tried to touch her.

  My cock slides against her wet warmth rewarding her for her honesty.

  “But you loved her first,” she whimpers.

  My heart fucking cracks whilst my soul soars. Rose is giving me her feelings readily, no longer bottling them up. Her honesty is a gift I intend on treasuring, but first she must understand what she means to me. Slamming my hand on the vanity unit next to hers, my fingers entwine with hers whilst I cocoon her body with my own.

  “Look at me, Rose,” I order. She lifts her head, her gaze meeting mine in the mirror whilst my free hand reaches around beneath her, searching for her sweet spot. I pinch her clit hard enough to draw out a squeak of surprise before I soften the shock with gentle rubs.

  “Emmie means nothing to me, Rose…” I assure her, my voice a deep rumble of emotion. Even just feeling the warmth of her skin against mine is enough for me to blow my load. This woman turns me on like no other before.

  “You’ve not seen her for years, you don’t how you’ll react when you see her now,” she retorts, her face contorting between pain and pleasure as I pinch her clit again, then soothe the sting. She’s so wet, that my fingers are covered in her juices.

  “I tell you what I do know. I do know that she won’t hold a torch to you. She won’t make me feel inextricably strong, strong enough to walk out of a glass cage and strong enough to face my fears. And she sure as fuck won’t make me feel weak for all the right reasons instead of the wrong ones,” I say, rubbing more against her sleekness with my cock, not entering her but continuing to tease. Her wetness coats my dick and I feel a tingle work its way up from my balls. Jesus, she’s going to ruin me.

  “You can’t possibly know that. You loved her…” she bites out, her head falling forward, the dark curtain of her hair covering her expressive face. I need to see her face.

  “Don’t hide from me,” I grind out. Rearing backwards I grab Rose’s hips and turn her around to face me. Pulling her roughly against me, my cock strains between us as I see the hurt brimming in her eyes.

  “I did love her. I loved the girl she was, Rose. I stopped loving that same girl the second she betrayed me. Did you not believe me when I said that there was no one else on Earth that I would’ve walked out of that cage for except you?”

  She presses her eyes shut, not allowing me to see the truth in them, the vulnerability, the fear that she might lose me to a girl from my past.

  “Fucking look at me, Rose,” I shout, not allowing her to hide from me now. Not like this. She opens her eyes, helplessness wallowing in them. I cup her face, holding on for dear life. “You are the only one for me, understand?”

  She blinks, her jaw gritting.

  “Understand?!” I repeat, sliding my cock to her entrance, teasing her there.

  “Yes,” she breathes, relief flooding her features. “Yes, I believe you.”

  “Don’t ever fucking doubt my love for you again. I won’t be so understanding next time,” I warn her.

  “Erik,” she whimpers, clutching hold of me as much as I do her. “Please…”

  Hooking her legs around my waist I finally give her what she wants, what I need, and slam into her, finding the only home I’ve always longed for right here in her embrace.

  Our coming together is frantic, manic even and I skirt the edge of madness every single time our bodies part. I want to dive into her. I want to slide beneath her skin and stay there forevermore. I only feel safe, secure, strong with this woman. Even the thought of parting with her for a few seconds makes me panic.

  “Rose!” I cry out, a hedonistic kind of frenzy taking over me as she submits herself willingly, needing my utter abandon as much as I need to release it. Supporting her with my arms and using the vanity unit to prop her up, I slam into her violently.

  “Erik, don’t stop,” she utters, her voice as guttural as my own.

  We move together in a frenzy, and for a time I forget about the fact she isn’t yet healed. I forget about Ms Hadley, Viktor, fucking Emmie. Everything else disappears as I fuck her as though my life depends on it. She doesn’t falter this time. She doesn’t give in to her insecurities, or her fear of losing something so precious. Rose hangs onto me, welcoming every punishing stroke of my cock, every bruise-filled kiss and iron grasp on her body. I know my mark will stay on her skin for days to come, but I don’t care. I want her to look in the mirror and see my handprints, see
the level of passion and crazy I have for this woman.

  How much love.

  We make a mess of the bathroom until we fall, the two of us, together. An unending bliss opening within our chests, our two battered hearts beating the same tattered tune as we come.

  Chapter 12

  Rose

  Emmie arrives with another storm. It seems fitting somehow that this woman, who caused so much pain, is as dishevelled, fearful, and weary when she arrives as Erik has been since she screwed him over all those years ago. But whilst it blows a gale outside- the majority of Cornwall on an amber weather warning- inside I’m calm and ready to face whatever truth she’s about to reveal. I’m not sure I can say the same for my men.

  “Mrs Carrington is waiting in the parlour,” Fran informs us, the top half of her body peeking around the door as though she’s too afraid to fully step into the room.

  “Thanks, Fran,” I respond, given no one else seems able to. We’re sitting around the dining table, lunch barely touched. Erik looks like he’s about to throw up, and Ivan and Anton are stony-faced.

  “Erik, you sure you can do this?” Anton asks, giving him a wary look.

  Erik nods tightly. “I can do it, but I’ll need Rose by my side at all times, okay?”

  “You got it,” I respond, gripping his hand.

  “Whatever you need,” Anton agrees.

  Ivan pushes his seat back and stands. “Then I guess we should go hear what she has to say.” He glances at me, the skin around his eyes tight. He’s suffering right now and it’s the first time I feel as though I wish there were more than one of me. I’m stretched thin, trying to be there for all of them is difficult to juggle. Ivan strides past, but I grab his arm, forcing him to stop.

  “Are you okay?” I ask him, knowing full well that he isn’t.

  He presses his lips in a hard line, nodding sharply, trying to hide his feelings but failing.

  “Ivan!” I warn.

  He scrapes a hand through his hair. “Fuck, Rose. I need…”

  “Domina?” I murmur, moving away from Erik for a moment.