Kissed by Shadows: Chapter 10

Hunter and Rowan leave not long after I tell them about Nikolai, Rowan’s knife growing warm in my palm. It has a black metal-shaped handle with a switch on the side. I push it up, jumping when a black blade springs from the end.

“Let’s put that away for now, Rambo.” Roman chuckles, gently taking the knife from me and pulling the switch down so the blade goes back into the handle. Then he places it on the coffee table before turning to face me, taking my hands in his. “So, I thought I could make you breakfast while you have a shower, then we can watch that film you like, Memoirs of a Geisha?”

“Okay, sounds good,” I reply, getting lost in his chocolate-brown eyes. They’re full of mischief, reminding me of Shakespeare’s Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That works well for these guys because Hunter is definitely Oberon, the overbearing bastard. I’ll need to think about Rowan, he feels too dark for any of the fairies.

“Great. Then I can eat Evangeline for lunch, and maybe another film after?” His lips twitch as my mouth opens and closes, my body flooded with warmth at his naughty suggestion. “Go on, get that pretty arse clean and maybe I’ll eat that too if you’re a good girl.”

Not giving me much of a chance to answer—I’m still too fucking stunned at the visual of his head between my legs, his tongue licking me in all the places—he gets to his feet and pulls me with him, turning me in the direction of the room I’m staying in and giving my arse a playful swat that has me moving.

“Arsehole,” I grumble, hearing his deep laugh behind me as I walk away, deciding that I just can’t deal with his lewd suggestions right now. He was probably joking, just trying to get a reaction after our talk earlier.

I pause when I push the door to my room open, looking around at the cream walls and colourful furnishings. It’s a nice space, almost what I would have chosen for myself. Though it doesn’t feel quite like mine, not yet anyway. Maybe I can convince Roman to let me use the credit card again and buy some things to make it more mine, if I’m going to be staying here long-term that is. I’m not sure if Willow plans on coming back after she graduates from Highgate Prep, and what will I do then?

Shaking my head and deciding to pop a pin in that for another day, I cross the threshold and go to the bathroom, stripping out of my—Roman’s—T-shirt and my knickers, throwing them in the laundry basket that sits beside the door.

The space is beautiful, colourful tiles giving it an exotic feel, like some kind of spa in a far-off land. There’s a huge, gleaming copper tub that sits in the middle of the floor, and I notice a whole load of bath products on some shelves on one wall. I am definitely trying that out later.

It reminds me of Willow, given that it’s her space, and I make a mental note to try and get in touch with her. I’m sure I can use one of their phones, and I know that she had regular contact with Hunter at least. After her time with me, we kept in touch, speaking at least once a week, and in some ways, she’s become one of my closest friends. She certainly knows more about me than the other society girls who were part of my circle. Willow and I just connected on a level that I had not experienced since Nik. Plus, I bet she’d be easily persuaded to give me the inside scoop on the twins and her brother. I feel like they know far more about me than I do about them.

For now, I head towards the large shower in the corner, opening the door and fiddling with the knobs until it comes up. The water soon heats up, and I heave a sigh as I step under the spray, letting the water soothe some of the tension in my shoulders. It’s like I’ve been on edge since I walked into my house less than twenty-four hours ago, finding my life turned upside down.

After a few moments of just breathing under the stream of warm water, I use some of the fruity shower gel that smells like Willow before scrubbing top to bottom. Figuring breakfast must be almost ready by the delicious smell of bacon wafting into the room, I turn off the shower and step out.

“Need a hand, Princess?”

“Fuck!” I shout, spinning and clutching the towel to my chest, finding Roman leaning in the doorway, looking all too delicious in dark sweats and a vest. “Why do you all insist on scaring me all the fucking time?”

He gives me the most devastating smirk before sauntering into the steam-filled bathroom towards me.

“Maybe we like to see the fear in your eyes, the way your pulse jumps under your skin,” he purrs, and damn, that shouldn’t make my core clench. Spoiler alert, it does. “Maybe you are just completely oblivious of your surroundings.”

He stops in front of me, so close I can feel his body heat against my wet skin, imagining steam rising from me at how hot I now am. My breathing picks up as he takes the towel from me, my fingers releasing their grip without my bloody consent.

Without saying a word, he uses the towel to dry me off, and it’s quite possibly the most erotic thing to have ever happened to me. A part of me knows that I should tell him to stop, that this isn’t what almost strangers do, but Evangeline seems to be in full control here, and so I don’t say a fucking word.

“There,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, and a shiver falls over my now dry skin. “Breakfast is ready.”

Wrapping the towel around me and tucking the end in, he steps away, my eyes widening at the significant outline tenting his sweats. He huffs a laugh, dragging my gaze up to his beautiful face, some of his blond hair falling out of his bun and curling in the steamy room. God, the man is fucking gorgeous. No wonder he fries my brain.

“T–thank you,” I whisper, his eyes tracing over me before coming to rest on my heated face. The brown of his irises is almost completely swallowed up with black, and there’s something about being desired by such a man that leaves my head spinning.

“Anytime, Princess,” he murmurs, his fingertips twitching like he wants to pull me towards him. “I’ll be waiting in the kitchen, hurry or it’ll get cold.”

Taking a deep breath, he steps away and turns around before walking out, leaving me a hot fucking mess.

After quickly getting dressed in some silky soft harem pants and a loose snuggly fairisle jumper that Nikolai must have packed for me, I head back towards the kitchen, my cheeks burning when I see Roman sitting at the island and what looks like a hundred plates covering the surface.

He’s scrolling through his phone but looks up as I approach, his dark eyes still full of lust as he looks me over.

“How do you look just as sexy in that outfit as you do naked?” he asks, smirking when he notices my flushed skin. I swear he does it on purpose, says these things just to watch me blush. Wanker.

“What’s for breakfast?” I ask, not sure what to say. I think maybe it was a rhetorical question, but I’ve not spent enough time around guys to know or be used to this kind of flirty banter. My friendship group for the past few years has been catty girls, all of us training to be the perfect hostess and housewife. It didn’t exactly prepare me for living with three inked-up, wet-knicker-inducing gangsters. I definitely need to get a phone or borrow one of theirs to chat with Willow. I bet she’d know how I’m meant to react, she always did have the funniest and dirtiest advice.

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you were vegan or some shit?” he asks, and I shake my head, a look of relief crossing his face. “So I made a selection, and there’s some fruit too.”

Walking over to the island, I sit in the chair next to him and gawp at the vast array of foodstuff on plates in front of us.

“Wow,” I whisper, my eyes darting over crispy bacon, toast covered in butter, golden waffles with a jug of syrup, and a huge fruit platter. Plus a big jug of juice, reminding me of the juicer I found early this morning. “This looks amazing, Roman. Thank you. I worry I won’t be able to do it justice.”

“That’s okay, Princess. Eat what you want and I’m sure the others or someone else will have the leftovers.” His hand lands on my thigh, squeezing it gently, and I swear all the blood in my body rushes to the spot as it suddenly burns.

As if his words have the power to summon, the front door opens.

“Hey, Roman?” a boyish voice greets, and Roman sighs, keeping his hand on my thigh.

“In here, Bubby,” he calls out, and I twist to see a young guy hesitating in the doorway. His dark hair covers his forehead and one eye, a black hoodie pulled up, his hands stuffed in the pockets. “Bubby, this is Iris. Iris, this is Bubby, or Dayton is his real name.”

“Pleased to meet you, Dayton,” I say, smiling at him. He seems shy, looking everywhere but at me while giving me a short nod. “Would you like to join us?”

There’s something about this kid, who must be fourteen, fifteen at most. There’s a wariness about him that makes my chest tight, like the world hasn’t been there for him when he needed it.

“It’s okay, I can go,” he says quietly, looking like he’s about to flee.

“Come eat, Bubby. You always come for breakfast, why break tradition?” Roman urges, his eyes trained on the youngster. His posture is loose but also coiled, focused on Dayton, almost like he’s willing him to sit down.

I watch as Dayton still hesitates, biting his lower lip. Then taking a deep inhale, he steps into the kitchen, Roman’s body relaxing as Dayton makes his way over to us, taking a seat next to Roman. Roman starts filling up his plate, and I follow with Dayton finally joining us.

“So, Dayton, do you have school today?” I ask, glancing at the big clock and seeing that if he does, he’s going to be late. I wince when he freezes, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“It’s Saturday, Princess.” Roman chuckles, and I frown.

“Well, shit. I completely lost track,” I reply, hearing a small huff of laughter from Dayton. Turning to Roman, I ask, “What do you usually do on the weekends then?”

“When I’m not looking after my beautiful prisoner, you mean?” Roman teases, and I watch as Dayton’s face goes bright red while feeling the heat that creeps up my cheeks too.

“He likes to make me blush, just ignore him,” I tell the guy, leaning forward so I can catch his side profile. His lips twitch and I’m counting that as another win.

“We often do,” he mumbles, and I giggle when Roman cries out in mock outrage, grabbing Dayton in a headlock while using his knuckles to ruffle his hood, careful not to pull it down.

“Little shit.” Roman laughs, releasing the boy with a playful shove.

“Old man,” Dayton volleys back, and I laugh at the way Roman’s eyes go wide.

“I’m only twenty-five, you scumbag! Hunt is the only old man around here. He’s twenty-nine, the big three-O this year.” He glances at me, his lips quivering as he gives me a wink. So he and Rowan are the same age as Nikolai, and Hunt is ten years older. Roman did call him Daddy last night, though I’m sure the fact that Hunter is the eldest is not the only reason.

“You’re still six years older than me, I’d say that counts as old,” I reply, taking a piece of waffle in my fingers and dipping it in the syrup on my plate before taking a bite.

He leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Not too old to pull you over my knee and spank that naughtiness out of you, sweetheart.”

I almost choke on my waffle, heat searing my insides at the thought of the punishment. Roman thumps my back until I hold my hand up, telling him I’m not actually choking.

“Moving on,” I say after taking a large gulp of juice and turning to Dayton. “What did you want to do today? I’m afraid we’re stuck in here, prison rules, but we were going to watch a film if you want to join us? Or we can do something else?”

I don’t want to push him out, my instincts telling me that Dayton is like a younger brother to the guys and he needs them.

“Shit, we were gonna play Call of Duty, weren’t we? Fuck, dude, I forgot.” Roman sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s cool,” Dayton replies, darting a glance at Roman and then looking back down to his plate. “We can play another time.”

“No, I’d love to see it. I’ve never played a video game before,” I tell them, laughing at Roman’s wide eyes.

“Princess, that needs to be rectified right the fuck now,” he states. “So finish up and let’s beat his punk arse.”

“In your dreams, grandpa.” Dayton chuffs a laugh, and the warm feeling in my chest spreads knowing that he’s relaxed a bit more around me.

“Little shitbag.” Roman chuckles, and we quickly finish up, all of us helping Roman clear up and put the leftovers in the fridge before heading to the cinema room.

We spend the next couple of hours playing Call of Duty, and I discover that strategy is not my strong suit when I keep getting Roman and I killed.

“Damn, Princess.” Roman laughs as we die again, Dayton pumping his fist in the air. “I’m not sure gaming is one of your strengths.”

I wince before handing him the controller. “Nope, blame it on my creative brain.” Standing up, I stretch, feeling Roman’s eyes on me. “Do you guys have any mint tea?”

“Ummm…” Roman blinks like his mind was somewhere else completely.

“I’ll have a rummage,” I tell him, making my way back to the kitchen.

I’m opening cupboards, sure I saw some boxes of tea in here somewhere when a warmth at my back cages me against the counter.

“What are you looking for, Peaches?” Hunter’s deep voice rumbles over me, causing goosebumps to pepper my skin, and I swallow the sudden dryness in my throat. It’s not fucking fair, he shouldn’t have this effect on me, especially after forcing me to my knees and keeping me captive in his flat.

“Mint tea,” I whisper, holding my breath when his large arm comes out and pulls open the cupboard to my left, dipping inside and taking out a box of what happens to be my favourite brand of peppermint tea. I can’t help wondering, given what else they know about me, whether that is purposeful and whether I mind. “Thanks.”

“Do you know how to boil the kettle?” he asks teasingly, and I stiffen, anger burning through the lust his closeness was creating.

“Of course I fucking do,” I hiss, pushing back against him, trying to not let all his hard muscles distract me from the twat he clearly is. He doesn’t fucking budge an inch though. Arsehole. “What, you think that because I grew up wealthy I don’t know how to do basic things?”

I don’t tell him that I learnt a lot of those things at finishing school, mostly so we knew how to prepare the perfect afternoon tea for our guests and husbands and could instruct our staff. Yeah, it’s fucked up.

“I had a message from your Russian,” he states, changing the subject so fast my head spins. He’s still braced behind me, giving me no room to even spin around and face him. My stomach swoops, like when you’re driving and there’s a sudden dip in the road.

“Nik messaged you?” I whisper, my hand taking hold of the box of tea and opening it, just to have something to do. The fresh minty scent helps to soothe some of the roiling in my stomach at the mention of Nikolai and the memories of him deep inside me.

“Requesting a meeting, just us, two of his men, and you,” he replies, and I take in a sharp breath when his palms land on my waist. I should push him off, my mind knows this, but my body has yet to get the memo, so I just stand there instead, fighting the urge to lean back into his touch.

“Me?”

Why does Nikolai want to meet with them? And why would he request my presence?

“Word on the street is Sergi is pissed and is sending his son to retrieve you,” Hunter purrs right next to my ear, and I can’t stop the shiver that falls over my skin. It’s really fucking hard to have a serious conversation with him when he’s making Evangeline pant for him. Greedy bitch. I am definitely placing the blame at her door, nothing to do with me. “I’m guessing he doesn’t know that his son was the one to bring you to us.”

He nuzzles my hair, and I swear any brain cells I had up and leave at the satisfied growl that rumbles past his lips as he takes a deep inhale.

“W–what are you doing?” I ask as one of his hands moves down the front of me, slipping underneath my harems. Tingles race across my nerve endings, following the path his large palm takes, leaving me breathless.

“Maybe I want to mark you as mine before we meet the man who you gave your virginity to,” he whispers, a sharp gasp falling from my lips when he dips his fingers underneath my silk underwear. “Maybe I want to fill you full of my cum so he knows that you are mine now.”

“Fuck, Hunter,” I breathe out when his fingers make contact with my already slick clit. How did we go from a serious conversation to his fingers threatening to undo me? And why don’t I even attempt to pull away?

“Shhhh, the others are only a few rooms away, Bubby too. You’ll have to be quiet, Peaches,” he commands in a quiet voice, circling his finger around the hard nub, and I lose the battle to hold myself away from him, sinking into his arms as my body overrides my mind.

My fingers drop the tea box, one hand going up behind me and wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer with a soft whine while the other grips the counter, trying to use it to anchor me.

“Please, Hunt,” I beg, my hips chasing what he’s offering, the need for release becoming all-consuming regardless of how inappropriate the situation is.

“Almost, baby. Try again for me,” he softly instructs, and my lust-fogged brain takes a moment to compute what he’s asking. Then memories from the night before surface, the name that Roman called Hunter causing my thighs to squeeze together.

“Please, Daddy,” I whisper, and his body shudders behind me, his hard dick pressing into my lower back.

“Good fucking girl,” he praises, a whimper leaving me when his fingers move from my clit. “Let Daddy take care of you.”

A part of me wonders if this is fucked up, given my current circumstances not only as his prisoner but the fact that my very real father is still alive somewhere. Guess I might have daddy issues after all.

My brain completely switches off when two of his thick digits enter me, thrusting deep, the palm of his hand hitting my clit and sending shock waves ricocheting through me. I dig my nails into the back of his neck, my breaths panting out of my parted lips as he fucks me hard and fast.

“Shit,” I breathe out, the tension inside me coiled so tight that I know it won’t take much more for my fuse to blow completely.

A hot mouth lands on my neck, my tied-up hair giving him the access he needs to seal his lips over my skin and suck.

I explode with a stuttered cry that I couldn’t hold in even if I wanted to, my release coating his fingers as my body practically seizes with the force of it.

“That’s it, give it all to Daddy, baby,” he whispers against my neck, closing his mouth over the spot again and driving me fucking wild.

He doesn’t stop until I’m mewling, twitching in his arms as my body goes completely limp. My eyelids flutter when a sound from the doorway has me coming back to the land of the living.

“Looks like I missed all the fun,” Roman’s voice teases, and Hunter finally pulls his fingers from my soaked pussy with a wet sound. I don’t even have the energy to wince, my body languid as I try to wake myself up a bit more, my hand releasing Hunter’s neck. “I think you broke her, Daddy.”

Hunter’s deep laugh sends shivers all across my nerve endings, and I follow his lead as he turns us around so he’s against the counter and I’m facing the room. Blinking my eyelids open, I see not just Roman there but Rowan too, both looking at me with fire in their eyes.

“W–where’s Dayton?” I ask, my voice husky and a bit croaky. I don’t quite have the energy to move yet, so I just lean back into Hunter, his arms banding around me tightly and holding me up. Warmth fills my entire body, knowing on a soul-deep level that if I asked it, I could do nothing but breathe and he’d take care of everything else.

It should scare me, the idea of giving someone that much control, but it doesn’t. In fact, I feel calmer than I have in a long while.

“He had a couple of jobs to do for us,” Rowan tells me, his eyes fixed on my chest, which is still rising and falling more rapidly than usual.

“Nothing too dangerous?” I ask, adrenaline tightening my muscles enough to straighten a little in Hunt’s arms. He makes a rumbling noise, tugging me in closer until I’m forced to relax.

“No, Peaches. We don’t get minors to do anything dangerous,” he growls, and his words have me sinking back into him. I wonder for a second if I’ve offended him, but then his nose nuzzles against the side of my neck, distracting me and assuring me that he’s not cross. “He’s just running a few errands for our club night next weekend.”

“Can I⁠—”

“No.” Hunt’s denial is sharp, a complete dismissal of any other outcome. I bristle, clearly taking him by surprise as I push out of his arms, all the languid, sated feeling from moments before dissolving under the steam of my anger. I spin to face him, wanting to punch his pretty face.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!” I hiss, my nostrils flaring. No one has ever made me so mad so quickly before, it’s like he knows just how to piss me off in one word.

“You were going to ask to come along and the answer is no. It’s not safe, and I meant what I said, Peaches.” He takes a step towards me, closing the distance between us and pressing his hot body against mine. I have to crane my head to look at him and am even more pissed off that his nearness still fucking turns me on a little. “You. Are. Mine. And I will keep you safe, even from your own stupidity.”

My hands curl into fists at my sides, my breath leaving my lips in sharp puffs of air. How fucking dare he call me stupid! I just want some normality. Something to take my mind off the shitshow my life has become. Angry tears sting my eyes, and his features soften.

“Why don’t we see how the meeting goes tonight?” Roman interjects, his warmth at my back letting me know he’s stepped closer. “Then we can make a final decision.”

Hunter gives a long exhale, his jaw ticking. “Fine.”

With a final, lingering look at my face, which sears a path to my very fucking soul, he steps away and leaves. I release a huff, because leaving me seems to be becoming a bit of a habit with him.

“Hey, Princess.” Roman’s hands land on my tense shoulders, his thumbs massaging the knots until I’m boneless. “He’ll come around.”

“What if he doesn’t? I’m not sure I can stay trapped in here forever, Ro,” I confess softly, my throat tight. I know that it’s not only the thought of never leaving the flat that makes my throat tight. I’m pretty sure, maybe, my feelings are getting involved where Hunter is concerned, and I don’t want him to keep walking away from me. It hurts.

“Ro? You giving me a nickname, sweetheart? You must like me.” He leans down, brushing a kiss against my temple. It was unconscious on my part, yet another piece of evidence that these guys are getting under my skin and heading towards my heart. “I haven’t forgotten about lunch.”

My ire and sadness from moments before lessens as a wave of lust hits me, even though I literally just came all over his friend’s hand. Briefly, I wonder if it’s always like this? You lose your virginity and suddenly you’re desperate for more. Or perhaps it’s just the effect these Shadowmen have on me.

“Have you eaten?” Rowan asks, and I bite my lower lip as he comes around to face me. “Why are you blushing?”

His words make my cheeks flush brighter, Roman behind me chuckling deeply. “I’ve not eaten yet, brother.”

“I wasn’t asking you, fuckwit,” Rowan answers without missing a beat or taking his eyes off me. “Are you hungry, Little Lamb?”

My stomach takes the opportunity to grumble loudly, my palms coming up to press against it.

“I could eat,” I tell him, huffing a laugh at my own body betraying me so much around these guys.

“Come, I’ll make you some soup,” Rowan states, taking my hand and pulling me away from his brother and towards the kitchen island.

“To be continued,” Roman whispers in my ear as he follows us, and heat sears my insides again.

I guess regardless if this is a normal kind of reaction after losing one’s virginity, it’s mine, so I best learn how to deal with it.

Though I can’t help thinking that the men in this flat could lend me a helping hand.