Why must they always torture me into an orgasm before they enter me?
“Because we can,” Ryan said. “And because you look so sexy and hot when we do. And because … you love it.” He smiled down at her.
Sometimes it was infuriating that they could read her thoughts so easily. She hadn’t begun to master the art of blocking some of them. At least she needed to learn to shut out some of the more lascivious ones or she’d never get a moment’s peace.
Or maybe she’d rather not learn that particular skill.
Ryan’s free hand toyed with her nipples, barely grazing over them, bringing them to stiff peaks. She strained in vain to lift her chest and get more friction against his fingers.
Alex licked a circle around her clit and pushed one finger inside her.
Together, in a most certainly arranged composition, both men increased their assault, Ryan pinching her nipples in earnest while Alex sucked her clit deep into his mouth and pressed his tongue against the exposed bud.
“Come for us, hon. I want to watch you as you explode around Alex’s fingers.”
She sucked in a breath and held Ryan’s gaze while Alex twisted his hand and dragged at least two fingers across her G-spot.
The explosion was intense, as always, shaking her body as she pulsed around Alex’s hand and moaned in a tone she still couldn’t believe was her own.
Before she could come down from her high, Ryan let his cock fall into her hungry mouth while Alex lifted her torso, stuffed two pillows beneath her ass to lift her, and plunged into her depths. His own groan of satisfaction mixed with hers.
She sucked as hard as she dared on Ryan, as though he were the last meal on earth and she wanted to savor every morsel. It wasn’t far from the truth.
When all three came together and collapsed in a tangled heap across the bed, she felt like the luckiest woman alive.
Man, I love these men.
“And we love you, mi amor.”
* * * *
Two hours later, the three of them walked into Lindsey’s apartment still high on their lust, joking and laughing with each other without a care in the world.
And then the ground dropped out from under them.
“Where’s Jessica? I thought she’d be here by now.” The apartment was too silent. Eerie. “Jess?” A tingle crawled up Lindsey’s spine and across her neck. “Jess?”
She practically ran down the hall calling her name when she didn’t answer.
And then she came back to the front room and froze.
Ryan stood still as a statue in the middle of the room, his eyes wide, a piece of paper dangling from his hand.
“Ryan?” Fear threatened to bring up her lunch as she watched the white page of a notebook flutter to the ground, its ragged edges seeming to metaphorically attest to the message she’d find on the paper.
In slow motion, Lindsey fell to the floor and crawled toward the paper as it settled against the rug. Alex grabbed her around the waist, but even he wasn’t strong enough to keep her from her goal, and she reached out her hand just far enough to snag the object that would tip her world on its axis.
*
Dear Sister Mary Martha,
It appears you do not fully understand the severity of your actions.
It was deemed by your grandmother that you would marry the man of our choosing on your twenty-second birthday. That date has come and gone.
In your stead, we have decided your roommate will be a perfectly suitable replacement. After all, her own twenty-second birthday is coming up this Friday.
Now, we realize you may find it in your heart to repent your evil ways in light of this new information. Should you choose to do so, please present yourself at our building this Friday, September third, precisely at noon, prepared to repent for your sins and exchange yourself for your dear friend, Jessica.
Should you choose not to arrive by the requested hour, or to do so other than completely alone, we will be forced to marry Jessica in your stead.
Trust me, she will never be seen again.
Yours truly, Pastor Stone
*
The room spun around Lindsey for several seconds before everything went black.
Chapter 17
Lindsey paced the kitchen floor for the thousandth time, her hands fisted at her side to avoid biting her nails any more than she already had.
Two more hours until the designated rendezvous. Two long hours.
She hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time since Wednesday afternoon. And when she did drift off, she always awoke screaming in terror.
Jeez, those bastards have Jess. And they have for two days. What the hell have they done to her?
Her stomach threatened to purge itself again. She’d thrown up nearly everything she’d swallowed in the last forty-eight hours.
“Ma’am, let’s go over this one more time.” The officer sitting at the Masters’ kitchen table this morning was calm and understanding, but she was tired of rehearsing.