by Emma Cole
“Touch my ass and I’ll castrate you both.” Marcus holds up his hands, and Apollo says ‘of course not’.
He turns me so that my back is to his front, the water is running down my chest. He takes my legs and places them on either side of his and spreads them wide. Taking the showerhead, he turns on the massage setting and begins running it all over my front in hypnotic circles, while Marcus gets on his knees and buries his face in my crotch, licking and sucking gently above the showerhead.
As I warm up and respond to them, he adds his hands to the mix, exposing the underside of my clit to flick it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. It's still overly sensitive from the ginger, as if it got too much sun, but not quite burnt. Marcus' broad shoulders are directly in my view between my thighs. His upper body is extremely well defined, the movement of his arms flexing all those muscles, and I find myself tracing them without thinking about it. He slips a finger in me, testing my readiness. He adds another and begins stroking over the right spot inside.
Apollo puts the showerhead on a higher setting and settles it over my clit while Marcus continues to pump my pussy. With his mouth free, he brings his head up to suck on a nipple. My head is lolling back on Apollo’s shoulder, and soon I’m coming with a quiet moan. I try to close my legs as I finish, but Apollo spreads his knees further, keeping me open. Marcus adds another digit, moving more rapidly now. The other hand comes up to twist and pluck at the nipple not already in his mouth, soothing and igniting the burn all at once.
With an angle adjustment, Apollo has the water pulsing directly inside the hood of my clit eliciting a guttural grunting from my throat as I’m in sensation overload. The orgasm crashes over me, robbing me of sight from the spots dancing in my vision while I gasp and twitch with clenching muscles.
Apollo removes the showerhead, allowing me to relax marginally with Marcus still leaning down, licking and sucking and cleaning me up gently. I was already wrung out from the punishment, and now I can barely sit up by myself.
They get us all out of the shower and me into some comfortable, loose clothing. Marcus had wrapped my hair in a towel, and now he's gently rubbing the excess water out of it. Apollo brings a brush over nudging Marcus out of the way to detangle my hair for me. I can’t help but feel slightly pampered at the treatment. If it wasn’t for the situation and my sore ass and nether regions, I might even be able to relax and enjoy it. Finishing, Apollo scoops me up and carries me into the bedroom, climbing under the blankets that have already been turned down and snuggling my back into his chest with my head on his arm.
I don't mind the comfort he's offering— even if it feels somewhat odd. I figure comfort is comfort, and I'll take what I can get. Marcus comes in to cover us up and let us know he’s going to check on the guys and let them know that we’re back. Apparently they were in the training room working out. Glad that they'd kept busy, yet butthurt that they hadn't been here when I returned, I try to sleep.
I’m lightly dozing when I hear Braeden arguing with Marcus that he’s going to check on me whether Marcus likes it or not. I blink my tired eyes open to find him crouched next to the bed in front of me.
“Hey, baby bird, how are you feeling? Do I need to fuck one of these guys up?” Marcus, of course, immediately gets his hackles up. Gray eyes flashing like lightning, he addresses Braeden.
“Try it, pretty boy.” That’s great, Brade hates being called pretty boy. Even if he is sinfully pretty, he could never be mistaken for anything other than masculine.
“I was talking to Lark, not you, Bondage Barbie. Lark, tell me you’re alright, please.” He must be really concerned since he’s calling me Lark. I stretch a hand out to cup his bristly cheek.
“I’m fine, Brade. These two made sure I was safe. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I’m just worn out right now. Can I take a nap without you killing anyone?” He covers my hand with his own and rubs his cheek against it, nodding his head and leaning in to kiss my forehead. As he’s retreating, Apollo shows that he’s been awake and listening.
“Where’s mine? I’m tired too,” he whines.
What a little petulant child trapped in this man's body. If he wasn’t so spot on when needed, I’d be sure he was nutty as Grandma's almond brittle. And Grandma had loved her brittle. And almonds. Probably how she ended up in a diabetic coma when I was a kid. Fuck, now I'm losing it. Like Grandma before she died.
Brade just chuckles and leans over me, aiming for Apollo’s forehead. Backing up with a ‘hey’, I have a feeling Apollo tipped his head and got one on the mouth instead. Braeden and Marcus step out and close the door behind them.
I think about Braeden not kissing on the mouth unless he’s dating someone, he says it’s too intimate. I guess that should have been a clue as well, as he never had a problem pecking me on the lips. We really need to get out of here and have a talk about this thing that's been exposed between us. This isn't the place to tell him I'd have reciprocated his feelings, had I known.
“You’re a lucky girl, Lark Jones." I snort at that. None of this is 'lucky'. "That man is head over heels and so is that neanderthal in the other room. I wouldn’t be surprised if his partner had some feelings as well, with the way I catch him looking at you.” He snuggles me tighter as I refrain from answering. Surprisingly, I fall asleep and rest well for being in a possibly crazy criminal's arms.
Waking up, I'm hot and sweating and sandwiched between two large bodies. From the light filtering from the bathroom, I see Rex’s relaxed features in front of me. My legs are entwined with his as they have been many times before. I feel a pang of sadness that we’re no longer a couple, but I’m also still upset about how he handled the situation. If he was able to break it off so easily, then he couldn’t have been as serious about our relationship as I was.
Turning my head to look isn't necessary to know that Braeden is the other body behind me. We've cuddled so frequently over the years that I recognize everything about him, sight or not. I try to figure out how to extricate myself without waking him up as my bladder is telling me to get to the toilet asap. I manage to slide out from between them and to the foot of the bed without disturbing them— noticing after I get up they’ve slid into the void I left and are almost snuggling each other. Emmett, Apollo, and Brent are in the bed as well, but Marcus is missing from the room.
I go to the bathroom and use the toilet, examining myself in the mirror while washing my hands. I find a pale face, with shadows under tawny eyes, and dark hair all a mess. I brush it out and replace the tie in it to keep it back and out of my face— not much else to do about the rest.
Stomach grumbling for food and wanting to see what time it is, I brush my teeth before heading out— stifling a giggle at Rex and Braeden as the former has tossed an arm and a leg over the latter. That's going to be a surprise to them both when they wake up.
Going out into the main area, I come upon Marcus on the couch watching an older movie that's one of my favorites. I catch Marcus' attention as I move into the kitchen area, and he pauses the show.
“Hungry, Lark?” I’m surprised, unsure he’s ever called me by my name before.
“Umm...yeah. Just going to see what was in here. Do you want anything?” I rummage in the fridge and find Chinese in plastic containers. It smells good when I open a few and sniff them, so I start pulling them out and find a baking sheet in one of the cupboards to reheat it.
There’s a little oven mounted in the wall of the kitchenette, and once I preheat it, I start arranging portions of orange and almond chicken, fried rice, lo mein, and stuffed wontons on the sheet. Finding plates, flatware, and napkins, I set them out on the little coffee table in front of the couch. I'm a little uncomfortable as Marcus is watching me move around and set everything up, but I’m determined not to let it bother me.
The oven finally dings, signaling that it’s preheated, and I pop the pan in to let the food get hot while rummaging for drinks. There’s root beer in the fridge, and, on a whim, I open the
freezer and luck out with vanilla ice cream. Either they feed their slaves well, or Apollo or Marcus arranged for all of this. I’m going with the latter as I don’t really see Apollo’s father giving a crap about other human beings, besides basic care for his use.
After the food and floats are done, I take it all to the coffee table and am in the middle of filling my plate when I realize Marcus is still staring at me.
“What? Do you not like Chinese? Or is it the floats? You don’t have to have any if you don’t want to.” I’m a little grumpy since he could have said something before. It’s not like he couldn’t see what I was doing.
“No, I like it all. I actually love root beer floats. Just haven’t had anyone other than Apollo do something like this for me unless I ordered it from the kitchens.” He has a funny look on his face that I can’t quite decipher. Maybe something like embarrassment since he told me that or gratitude for the food. Deciding it's a mix of the two, I shrug it off like it’s not a big deal, not wanting to embarrass him further, and continue filling my plate.
“Eat up before I get to it all. I can eat my weight in Chinese food.” A wonton escapes as I’m putting it on my plate, and Marcus catches it before it hits the floor. Instead of putting it on my plate, he takes a bite, earning a scowl from me. With a laugh, he holds it up to my lips— I hesitate for a second, and he goes to withdraw— but I quickly open my mouth and take it from his fingers, nipping him a little in the process.
He inhales sharply, and I mumble an apology, turning my head away in embarrassment. He takes another off the baking sheet and nudges me to get my attention before he bites off it as well, bringing the other half up again for me to take. This time there’s heat in his eyes, and I’m more careful, slipping my tongue out to lick the bit of left behind cream cheese off his finger. I blush at my actions, and I’m confused as well. I shouldn’t like Marcus, but I kind of do. This place is messing with my head. He adjusts in his seat and sits back to start filling his own plate. With our plates full, we eat our food in companionable silence as we watch the antics on the screen.
“You like this movie?” He seems surprised when I nod my head. We’re almost finished with the movie and down to the bottoms of our floats when I hear a shout and a thump. I turn wide eyes to Marcus who goes to get up to investigate but stops when we hear Rex yelling at Braeden.
“Fuck, man! I didn’t do it on purpose. Lark was between us when I fell asleep.” I can’t hold back the giggles this time, and Marcus stares at me again.
“What? It’s funny. I got out of bed, and they slumped in toward each other. I was wondering when they were going to notice they were cuddling.” Marcus shakes his head with a smile at my enjoyment of fucking with Rex.
“That’s terrible, but funny too. I like when you laugh. We need to get you out of here so you have a reason to again.” Maybe Marcus really isn’t all bad. My thoughts are diverted as Braeden comes in, in a hurry, with Rex right behind him.
“Lark, damn it, wake me up next time! I thought something happened to you, and the human octopus was wrapped around me like Linus with his blanket.” I bust up laughing again with Marcus joining in while both the guys glare at me. Finally getting ahold of myself, I apologize for laughing and scaring Braeden. As a peace offering, I offer to heat up some food for him, and I’m instantly forgiven at the mention of food he doesn't have to prepare himself.
We all settle in with food to watch the rest of the movie, enjoying the downtime that we have. Apollo and Brent find us that way as Emmett trails in still looking half asleep, crease lines on his cheek from the pillow and his wedge of badboy hair firmly in mussed territory— it's ridiculous how attractive he still is, even rumpled.
Apollo fiddles with his phone before setting it on the counter and nodding to Marcus. He's been doing it randomly and I'm thinking that's how he's letting us speak freely on occasion. My thoughts are confirmed when he starts talking.
“How are you feeling, Lark?” Apollo seems to be wary of me, and I don’t blame him. I should pop him in the nuts again, but I don’t really see that he had an opportunity to do anything differently. Hey, I can be rational. Being trapped here is like being in an alternate reality, and I can’t wait to get out.
“I’m fine.” I don’t say more than that, flicking my eyes towards Rex and Braeden. I don’t want a scene, and neither of them is slow-witted, so they instantly pick up on it. Rex, of course, opens his big mouth.
“What really happened, Apollo? She’s been abused enough, we need out now. I don’t care about finishing the job.” Rex has his fists clenched next to Braeden who looks thunderous. Marcus answers for him while Apollo stands there stone-faced.
“Restraints, flogging, figging, and fucking.” Braeden’s eyes get big, and Rex just looks confused. Marcus elaborates, “She got peeled ginger stuck in her ass, while she got paddled, and then Apollo had to fuck her in the ass too. All in front of his father and his cronies. It was the minimum that could pass as punishment and keep the others’ hands off of her.” Braeden glares at Apollo and comes to envelope me in his arms. I snuggle in, trying to decide what to say to take the worry from my friend.
“It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I’m embarrassed, and my ass is still sore, but I’m fine. I also agree with Rex, we need to get out of here before things escalate. Robert is seriously looking more and more deranged, and I don't even know the dude." I shudder a little when I remember him watching his son fuck me. Rex is pissed along with Emmett while Marcus looks sympathetic, and Apollo is still frozen.
With a sigh, I pull out of Braeden’s arms and move over to Apollo. I pat his arm and quietly say it wasn’t his fault. He glances down at me with those eyes, begging for forgiveness. “Really, Apollo, it wasn’t your fault. Now, who’s hungry? Because I’m not heating more food up after this.” That seems to break the ice, and they all chime in with various yes answers, so I heat up everything that’s left in the containers. After everyone is settled and eating, I sink down next to Braeden with Apollo on my other side. He seems shy or maybe humbled that I’m that close, but again, there really wasn’t anything he could have done. I’d rather be alive and with these guys than dead or given to some other perverts that only want to cause pain for their own pleasure.
Chapter Sixteen
Blue Funks and Bloody Aunts
The days pass slowly— yet too quickly at the same time. There's still no word from the FBI go-between, making Apollo, Rex, and Emmett more worried as time goes on. As for me, I'm mostly in my own little bubble often staring off into space or napping. I hear Braeden whispering to the guys and Brent about it, but I refuse to have the doctor check me out. There's not anything he can do for it as I highly doubt they care about mental health or PTSD in here.
I'm lying on the couch with an upset stomach and barely react when Apollo comes in frantically, telling us about the national news station that picked up on my and Braeden's kidnapping. As of now, Rex and Emmett are the only suspects since there were cameras from other storefronts around the coffee shop showing the men going into the alley before Braeden and I followed a few minutes later. The investigators have concluded that we never came back out in that direction, and there wasn't any surveillance at the other end to see if there were others involved. A needle left at the scene with traces of a fast-acting sedative and my blood type was found, confirming I had most likely been incapacitated. He continues to go over the details of the news report while I stare despondently at the still image on the tv screen.
"Lark. Lark!" I startle out of my stupor to see what Braeden is yelling at me about. "Little bird, what is going on with you?"
I try to form a cohesive answer, but the words stick in my throat like glue. I settle on shrugging my shoulders, much to his displeasure. My abdomen is cramping and I'm sincerely hoping I'm not going to be sick.
“Brent, can you not help here?” Braeden directs his anger at the doctor.
“What would you like me to do? I can’t force her to tell me what�
�s going on, and I can’t treat something I don’t know the cause of.” I idly note that the good doctor seems exasperated with us both.
I ignore the rest of the sniping between those two and the more serious conversation going on with the other four. Another cramp in my back alerts me to the issue that explains my stomach ache; I’m going to have one of my infrequent periods. I’m not sure what to do about it, if there are even any supplies to be had. I get to my feet to make my way out of the room, heading for the bathroom. Wiping after I use the toilet, a light pink tinge is on the paper. I pull a few paper towels off the roll by the sink to fold them into my underwear for a makeshift pad.
After searching the cupboard in the hall, my shoulders slump in defeat— the shelves are bare of feminine products. Unless, of course, I want a douche. Let's clean it out but not worry about periods. Assholes.
Marcus steps up behind me as I close the cupboard door.
"Looking for something, Four?" Of course he's back to numbering me.
That's it, I can't take it anymore.
"My fucking name is Lark, you sadistic piece of shit!" Rapid footsteps come into the little hall at my shout— I now have a crowd to witness my meltdown. "Get away from me. All of you.” Turning my back on the dumbfounded men, I stalk into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I throw myself on the bed, giving into my tears. The helplessness that overwhelms me follows me into troubled slumber.
Braeden
“I don’t understand. She was fine. Well, as fine as she could be, considering the situation. She won’t talk to me, and the more I try, the more upset she gets.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I wrack my brain for what could have set her off while the others stare at each other like lost idiots.
