Reading Online Novel

Their Virgin Mistress (Masters of Ménage #7)(97)



"When we were in boarding school, the others quickly learned not to mess with us. Our unity was unbreakable," Rory said with a fond grin.

"Until Yasmin." Oliver frowned. "But that's over, and you should understand we've talked about this. We understand that in order to make you feel safe, we have to form a cohesive unit that not even your sweet smile can corrupt."

Tori sat up. "I don't know if I like the sound of that."

"Brat." She looked so sweet Callum wanted to eat her up. Now that she was here with them, that hole in his gut seemed repaired. She couldn't possibly stay with them for a month, then walk away. "You don't like the idea of not being able to manipulate us."

Tori shook her head. "I prefer to think of it as being able to reason with you."

"We're all out of reason here, love." Rory winked her way. He looked out the window. "We should take her fishing. There's this lovely spot on the river right outside the carriage house. We used to sit there for hours and hours during summer."

"Until Mum sent someone to find us," Callum concurred. "The gardener told us if we were very quiet, the fairies would come out. When we were little, we really wanted to see those fairies."

He fully intended to tell his own children these stories. Their children.

"We were never quiet enough," Oliver said with a laugh. "Well, I was, of course. I was perfect. Cal always had gas. I swear his flatulence drove all the fairies away."

Callum sent his brother a rude hand gesture, but he couldn't help smiling. Whatever had happened to Oliver at the palace before they'd left seemed to have worked wonders. Oliver had joked more in the last day than in the last three years combined. And since their Bezakistani ritual, he'd been all over Tori. Callum made a mental note to train Oliver on the finer points of topping their girl or she would walk all over him with those pretty pink toes of hers.

"Oliver, don't be mean to your brother," Tori said with a stern look.

Ollie grabbed one of her feet. She'd kicked off her shoes the minute they'd climbed in the limo. He brought her delicate foot to his lips and kissed her arch. "I'd rather be mean to you, darling. Just a little." 

Tori giggled. "That tickles!"

"Not as much as this." Callum ran a firm hand over her ribs.

She struggled to get away. "No!" She reached out to Rory. "Help me!"

He cradled her head in his lap and gazed down at her. "I thought you wanted the three of us to play nicely together. Don't you like how my brothers and I share our toy?"

Tori giggled as Callum and Oliver worked her over, while Rory cheered them on. Her feet kicked, her laughter trilled, and joy suffused him. They should play and love well and find happiness together. They should be a family.

"Stop!" Tori shouted.

They finally let her up but only to kiss her. Rory bent to her, his lips caressing hers in a slow glide. Watching intently, Callum cupped her breast. He loved how soft she was. He wanted nothing more than to pull off her blouse and attach himself to those perfect pink nipples. He could suck on them until she was screaming for release-which they'd grant her. In fact, he suspected they would all feel better if they found some relief. Twenty-four hours was way too long to spend without being inside her.

Rory eased a hand down her shirt, molding to her other breast as his tongue plunged deep. They could have her naked in no time. They could command her to her knees and she could move between them, sucking their cocks before they made her scream.

"What the hell?" Oliver leaned forward and pressed the button that connected him to the driver. "Lyle, is that what I think it is?"

Callum helped Tori sit upright. Rory turned in his seat and cursed soundly.

The driver's voice came over the intercom. "It looks as if the press is waiting in front of the gate to the house, sir. I spoke to the housekeeper. She said they've been there all morning."

Tori went pale and tried to scramble off his lap. Callum caught her. He wasn't about to let her retreat. Her fear couldn't win.

"It's fine." He stroked a hand down her back. "Think of our situation as a job, love. You're good at this. I've watched you handle the press with one hand tied behind your back."

"Never when they were after me." A fine tremble shook her hands.

"What do you tell clients when you first meet them? The ones whose image needs rehabbing? Pretend this situation has nothing to do with you."

She took a deep breath and calmed a bit. "I ask them how they want to be seen."

This was what she needed. She needed to think professionally. "All right, how do you want to be seen?"

"I don't want to be seen at all." She frowned. "Since that's not possible... I guess I want to be seen as a smart, competent woman."