Their Cartel Princess: The Complete Series: A Dark Reverse Harem Box Set

by Logan Fox

  No more pleasure…

  But no more pain.

  And no more souls to feed La Sombra’s forge.

  39

  Carnage

  It should have been indecent, watching Finn and Cora like that. It should have made him as sick to his stomach as it had Bailey.

  But Lars couldn’t stop watching.

  Their enraged passion made his dick go hard, and his heart clench. His palms sweated, and he had no idea if it was from panic or terror or sheer lust.

  Which was why, when Finn grabbed Cora into his arms, swinging her around and carrying her from the room as if he’d completely forgotten about everyone else, his legs followed without instruction from his brain.

  Then he saw the man in the suit, gun still pointed in the vague direction of the bed. Kane, from the corner of his eye. The dead man on the floor. The dying man close by.

  Carnage.

  The room stank of it, filling his lungs.

  Electrifying him.

  Bailey appeared, moving obliquely so he wasn’t ever in the pistol’s sights. Although he doubted the man would have gotten off a clean shot, trembling as he was.

  “Owen,” Bailey said.

  Wait, he knew this fucker? Then again, he’d been inside Ronan King’s mansion. He’d obviously met this trio before.

  Lars’s eyes moved of their own.

  Fuck; no way King was getting an open casket.

  “Owen!”

  Lars’s gaze snapped back to Bailey, as if he’d been calling out his name instead.

  Owen focused on Bailey’s face and reluctantly lowered his weapon.

  “Take Will, take your boss, get the fuck out of here.”

  A slow nod. Owen was tall, perhaps only an inch or two shorter than Lars, but right now the man’s shoulders were so stooped he looked on a height with Bailey. He moved stiffly as he crouched at Will’s side. The man groaned, blood splashing over his bottom lip as Owen pressed a hand to his chest.

  “He’ll never make it like this.” Owen said, sounding a thousand miles away. “Got bandages?”

  Bailey looked up, catching Lars’s eye. He gave a quick nod and hurried from Cora’s old room. The first aid kit was in the kitchen. He took an eternity to reach it, and a lifetime to come back. But in that time, only Kane had moved.

  Owen stood a few feet from Bailey, but his gaze was fixed on Ronan’s destroyed body. He wore a glazed expression — no surprise — but seemed otherwise unaffected by what had happened.

  Lars helped Owen bandage up his friend, then they got him up between them and dragged him to the door.

  Kane moved as if to follow, but Bailey caught his arm.

  “We have to talk.”

  Ah, Christ, and he would miss it. He considered leaving Owen to take care of Will, but when they both almost didn’t make it down the staircase, he realized it would be impossible for Owen to make it anywhere on his own.

  The sooner he helped Owen the fuck out of here, the better.

  Will had passed out by the time they’d dragged his body to the poorly parked SUV standing by Swan Manor’s front entrance. Roses filled the air with their scent as if mocking the metallic stench of blood he’d had to breathe the past half hour. Owen opened the door, helped Lars maneuver Will inside, and propped him up a little before closing it.

  “And your boss?” Lars called out when Owen made for the driver’s side door.

  The paused, eyes blank for a moment as if he’d completely forgotten about Ronan King. Then his mouth became a thin line. “He ain’t getting any deader,” he said. “I’ll come back for him.”

  He watched the SUV pull away and then headed back inside. At the top of the stairs, he paused, glancing first one way, then the other.

  Master bedroom — Cora and Finn, probably doing unspeakable things to each other.

  Cora’s old bedroom — Kane and Bailey, probably saying unspeakable things to each other.

  Lars shrugged and headed for the master bedroom.

  He was a man of action, not words.

  40

  Dopamine

  Bailey watched Will leave, strung up between Owen and Lars. Should he have tried to stop Owen leaving? Killed him and Will both? Seemed pointless now, with Ronan dead — so very, very fucking dead.

  There were eyes on him. When he looked back, he found Kane watching.

  For the longest time, he returned the man’s emotionless stare. And then he gave him a smile that was part pity, part rue.

  Kane sneered at him.

  “I know about your folks,” Bailey said.

  “You fuckers ran a background check on me?” Kane’s mouth twisted with incredulity as he spat out the words.

  Bailey crossed his arms over his chest, more to prevent him from punching Kane in the face than anything else.

  “Think we’d let you near her without one?” Bailey let out a sour laugh. “Pays to be paranoid, you sick fuck.” He stabbed a finger at Kane. “How’d you ever close your closet with all those fucking skeletons in the way?”

  Kane’s face solidified an instant before he burst out laughing. The change was so sudden, so unexpected, that Bailey took a step back.

  “Jalisco cut their faces off,” Kane said, making absolutely no fucking sense. And that must have been writ large and square on his face because the man let out another bray of a laugh before getting himself under control. He swayed forward like a drunk, catching a hold of Bailey’s shoulder and leaning so close, Bailey saw where his iris met his pupil.

  “They cut their fucking faces off.” Kane lifted a flat hand, covering his eyes as if he was playing peekaboo, and then slowly dragged his fingers down his face. “Off.”

  Jalisco cut their faces off.

  Bailey’s skin contracted as if it was suddenly two sizes too small.

  “Your… parents?”

  Kane gave him a too wide, too cheery smile. “Hung them from the landing.”

  Jesus fucking Christ. Bailey pushed away, but Kane got a hold of the back of his neck and drew him back.

  “Flayed them, too.” Kane’s mouth set in a slant, as if the retelling of the atrocity made him sick to his stomach and he was about to vomit up a lifetime’s worth of meals.

  “And then left them for me to find.”

  If he’d had anything left in his stomach, Bailey might have puked again. Instead, his mouth filled with bitter-warm saliva.

  He could see it now… the madness in Kane’s eyes.

  “You can… there’s help out there… we could—” He was rambling, but he couldn’t stop.

  Taking a step back, he aimed blindly for the door. As long as he didn’t take his eyes off—

  “No one can help him,” Kane said.

  His voice was deeper. Rougher. Husky.

  “I’m all he’s got.”

  Cora whimpered under him when he thrust into her. She clung to him with hands and feet, burrowing her face into his neck as he fucked a body that reeked of blood and sweat and terror.

  The terror, at least, was fading.

  But the scratch over her stomach couldn’t scab over — her caramel skin was streaked with drying blood. Was that why Beast kept coming back? As hard as he tried shoving the animal into the furthest reaches of his mind, it found its way back.

  Clawing her.

  Biting her.

  Mounting her like the animal it was.

  Tears glittered in her lashes, but she didn’t struggle. Didn’t fight. She gave him everything he wanted, and more.

  They were on the single settee that faced the balcony overlooking the swimming pool. It was night out there, but he’d thrown open the balcony doors so whatever air moved out there would cool him.

  It hadn’t worked; although Cora shivered under him, he still boiled.

  A hand fell on his shoulder. He bucked, urging another soft cry from Cora, and glanced over his shoulder.

  Lars took a step back, face going a whiter shade of pale.

  Time stalled. Cora’s breath hitched
. And his beast whickered and whined as it slunk away.

  Strange, that. He’d only ever known Cora to chase away his beast.

  No… that wasn’t true, was it? Lars had done it before.

  There, in the desert.

  There, with all that sand and blood.

  There… where he’d been nothing more than a broken man and a wounded dog.

  Lars had made him forget. Had eased him back to life. He’d taken his hand and led him through midnight sand dunes, hunting for home. For comfort. For respite.

  A large, blood stained hand reached for Lars, and Finn stuttered to a halt when he realized it was his. Dread anticipation crystallized like snow in the air.

  No… it was snow.

  Snow blew in through the open balcony. It landed on his hand. On Lars’s hair. It melted on the man’s cheeks and collarbones.

  Lars took a slow step forward. He took a hold of Finn’s bloody hand and brought it hesitantly to his face.

  Finn’s thumb stroked against his jaw. It marred the pale skin with a streak of red.

  Cora’s blood.

  Lars fumbled with his shirt, fingers shaking. A button popped off, the man too impatient to bother undoing the last one.

  Finn’s hand slid behind his neck, to the warm, damp hair at the base of his neck.

  He dragged him closer until their faces were an inch apart.

  Snow came between them, but evaporated when it mingled with their heated breaths.

  “I thought I’d lost you in there,” Lars murmured, cupping Finn’s face in his hands.

  Warm hands. Slender hands. Caring hands.

  “I never left,” Finn said.

  “Like hell you didn’t.” Lars’s green eyes glowed for a moment. “Just remember one thing, motherfucker — I got you on speed dial. Ain’t nowhere you’re going that I can’t find you, you hear—?”

  But Lars didn’t get to finish his sentence.

  Finn dragged him the last inch, eviscerating his words with a ravenous mouth. Lars groaned. His body shook as if he was trying to take off the rest of his clothes.

  He made it easier — with a hard tug, he yanked Lars’s pants down his straining cock. His boxers were next — there was a ripping sound as cotton gave way under his twisting fist.

  Lars bucked forward, pressing his dick into Finn’s lower back. Beneath him, Cora let out a low moan as she squirmed.

  Finn ducked his hips, finding her entrance with ease and forcing his way back inside her. Wet as she was, she was always so deliciously tight, as if her core clung to him with the same determination she did.

  His breath tore out of him as he filled Cora, breaking his kiss with Lars. The man panted at him, both hands in Finn’s hair as he slowly drew his cock up and down Finn’s ass cheek.

  Lars got a knee on the settee, putting his weight on Finn’s back as if he was ready to fuck him right then and there.

  But they’d crush Cora under them, especially if Finn lost concentration.

  He couldn’t do that. Couldn’t hurt her, couldn’t harm her.

  Not ever.

  He shoved Lars away so hard that the man struck the wall beside the settee. If anything, the shock seemed to focus his intention. He surged back, jaw hard and cock in his hand as if he planned on pinning Finn down and fucking him whether or not he wanted it.

  But when Lars came at him, Finn grabbed his shoulders and held him off. They struggled briefly, fiercely, before he shoved Lars off again.

  This time, the man paused before attacking again. He leaned against the wall, tall and thin and hints of steely muscles everywhere as he stroked his cock and watched Finn with hooded eyes.

  Finn turned back to Cora. He lifted her head from the settee and kissed her so gently her erratic breath fluttered against his mouth. Then he drew back, smoothed hair from her face with his hands, and thrust into her.

  She moaned, writhed, became still.

  “You’re mine, Cora,” he murmured, easing out of her. “You’ll always be mine.”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly, eyes fluttering as if she was finding it difficult to keep them open. “Always.”

  “You fuck who I say you do.”

  She nodded, pressing her mouth closed as if she’d start bawling if she were to try speaking. He drove her breath from her with his next thrust and stayed buried inside her.

  “And never anyone else, ever again.”

  Another hard nod. Tears sprang into her eyes, and she chewed on her lip.

  “Don’t think I won’t punish you.” He stroked her face again, his eyes slipping to her mouth, her chin, her jaw. “I will. And you won’t like it.”

  Her lips trembled. He drew out. Speared into her so hard that she let out a muffled cry.

  “Never again, Cora.”

  “Never again.” It was hardly even a whisper, but it would do.

  Finn lifted her from the settee and carried her over to the bed.

  He lay down and drew her on top of him. She came willingly, trying to kiss him through her tears, but he flipped her over instead, nuzzling her neck as he got his legs between hers and forced her to spread herself open.

  Lars waited at the foot of the bed as if he’d read Finn’s mind. But first he stared. At Cora, at Finn. How he’d opened her for him. Finn ran both his hands over her thighs, driving his fingers through her damp curls and parting her pussy. Lars groaned deep in his throat and clambered onto the bed.

  He had his cock in one hand, balancing on the other, and was about to fuck Cora when the bedroom door opened again.

  Bailey entered, trailed by another.

  Kane.

  Finn sat up, making Cora moan something that sounded like a curse.

  “Shh,” Lars murmured, laying a hand on Finn’s shoulder and easing him back on the bed.

  When he threw Lars a scathing glare, the man had the fucking audacity to grin at him. He gritted his teeth, intent on beating the living shit from Kane, but then Lars’s smile turned lewd.

  “What better punishment?” he murmured.

  He held eye contact for a long moment, his smile deepening the harder Finn scowled at him.

  “Please,” Cora crooned, her hands fumbling under her for Finn’s dick. “Someone just fuck me.”

  So he did.

  He took his cock in a hand, glaring solidly at Lars, and thrust himself into Cora. She cried out breathlessly, body twisting with a wanton need she seemed barely capable of controlling… if at all.

  He heard the unmistakable snick of a hammer being drawn back. Finn’s gaze flickered to the right. Bailey had a gun to Kane’s head, and Kane had his hands in the air, bent at the elbows as if he’d caught out red handed.

  “Move,” Bailey said in a low growl that did debaucherous things to Finn’s cock, and took a step forward. Kane’s neck bent how he pushed that Glock against the man’s temple.

  But he took a step forward as Finn pulled out of Cora. Another as he thrust back inside her. Lars watched him approach, a manic grin on his face, and his cock still in a death grip in pale hands.

  “Like what you see, don’t you?” Lars’s grin turned into a sneer. “It’ll never be yours, you piece of shit.”

  Lars dipped his hips, the tip of his cock against Finn’s length as he drew out of Cora’s cunt. The instant he was free, Lars thrust into her. The man bowed over her, groaning with blatant pleasure as he went deeper.

  Cora reached for Lars’s face, perhaps trying to grab him up for a kiss, but Finn grabbed her wrists and held her pinned.

  Lars kissed her anyway, but it was a short, angry clash of lips that made her breath flutter out of her like butterfly wings.

  Finn waited for Lars to pull out before he speared in her again.

  Fuck, it was getting hot inside her. Hot and so wet. He loved how much she loved this — him owning her. Loaning her out to anyone he chose.

  His head lolled to the side, catching Kane’s expression. The man stared at them fucking with a hard jaw and parted lips. The hands he
held up shook, and Finn saw his hard-on clear as day through his pants.

  Let the fucker watch. He’d never—

  Sharp fingertips caught his jaw. Wrenched him to face Lars. The man dove, catching him in a brutal kiss.

  Their fucking fell into a steady, rocking rhythm that had Cora bucking and gasping between them like a trapped mare.

  “Mercy,” came a deep, husky voice. It held a touch of reverence, perhaps even fear.

  Finn fucked her as if there was no possibility of her breaking between them. And Lars shoved a tongue in Finn’s mouth, demanding every ounce of his being as their cocks slid against each other every time one of them left or thrust into Cora’s wet, pulsing cunt.

  “Harder!” came Cora’s whimpering demand. Finn still held her hands at his side, so she had no way of touching her clit. But as if that had been his cue, a cool body brushed against Finn, bringing him a now familiar scent — Bailey.

  But who was watching Kane?

  Finn tore apart his kiss with Lars. The man sat up, spreading Cora’s legs even wider as he stared down at her pussy while he fucked her. Bailey was on the bed, shirt off and struggling with his jeans, but his eyes fixed on Cora’s clit as if, if that’s all he looked at, it would be all he saw.

  Not the men fucking. No other cocks in sight. Just him and Cora.

  It made Finn angry, knowing he thought like that, but it made him kind of smug too. Bailey would never have what the three of them had — their unreserved, hedonistic passion, so easily fulfilled it was as much greed as it was gluttony.

  His eyes found Kane then. Found and stuck.

  Kane had his hand down the front of his jeans. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, a bulge moving in rhythm with how he jerked himself off.

  There would be no coming if he didn’t allow it. Not for anyone tonight.

  When they locked eyes, a smirk fell over Kane’s mouth. The man drew out his hand and lifted both arms.

  Surrender.

  And then he approached the bed, for all the world as if he’d earned a rightful place on it.

  “Back up,” Finn growled.

  Cora moaned at the sound, and Lars lost his rhythm. Bailey didn’t seem to notice — he had Cora’s clit in his mouth and might have been visiting someone across the pond for all the attention he paid Finn.