Tarnished Embers: A Dark Stepbrother Fairytale Retelling (Dark Retellings)
Tarnished Embers: Chapter 4

We wait for Ember in the dining room, sitting down with plates piled high and still feeling jet-lagged as shit. The twins look fresher than Cas and I, and I don’t even need to guess where they were this morning, having heard Ember’s cries of pleasure through the wall between our rooms.

My dick was so fucking hard picturing what they were doing to her that I came in my sheets like a horny teenager at the whimpering sounds she made. I imagined her making those sweet noises while I’m buried deep inside her, my hand wrapped around her pretty, slender throat.

Fuck. Now I’m hard again and with her dad at the table. Inappropriate doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Then she walks in, shoulders back and breasts thrust forward, her long-sleeved, white shirt and high-waisted jeans clinging to every mouthwatering curve. It’s not helping my dick, but I’m just as entranced as my brothers when she strides in, pausing when she sees us all staring. A flush warms her cheeks pink, and I love the colour on her.

“G–good morning,” she greets softly, her big, blue eyes wide as she tries to work out where to sit.

“We saved you a seat,” Caspian tells her, rising and gesturing to the place between him and I. The pink in her cheeks darkens when she catches my gaze, and I know that I’m giving her a predator’s smile, but I don’t give a fuck. Cas might want to fool her into thinking he’s a good guy, but I have no such qualms.

The way I see it, she doesn’t have a choice so why sugar-coat it?

“Oh, thanks,” she replies in a surprised whisper before slowly making her way to us. She pauses once more when Cas pulls out her chair, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she lets him push it in under her.

“I got you a plate,” he tells her, motioning to the very full plate of food that’s in front of her. She licks her lips, blinking owlishly at it.

“I usually just have some muesli,” she informs him quietly, not looking up from the plate of food, but he just smiles indulgently at her.

I lean over, placing my lips next to her ear.

“Be a good girl and eat your breakfast, Sugar. Then maybe later you’ll get a treat.” I fucking love the way she shivers, her hands grasping each other in her lap.

“How kind you are, Caspian,” Odette coos sweetly, giving Cas a wide smile that makes my teeth clench. “Although, I agree Ember will need muesli in the future if she wants to keep her figure. Us women can’t afford to eat pancakes every day.” She titters, and I see Ember flush deeply, but this time I suspect she’s embarrassed as she rubs a patch on her forearm and looks down at her lap.

My brows dip, a growl trapped in my throat at the clear barb in Odette’s words; I don’t like that she made Ember feel anything less than gorgeous, which she is. Yes, she’s not rail thin like Odette, but personally, I like something to grab hold of when I’m making a woman scream my name, and my new sister is soft in all the right places.

“You’re perfect, Little Cinders,” Cas assures her under his breath, and I see her swallow while rubbing that patch on her arm again. I don’t like the nervous habit. “Eat a little for me, please?”

She heaves out a breath before biting her lower lip, no doubt uncomfortable that she’s the centre of attention. “O–okay.”

I shift in my seat and murmur an appreciative noise when she takes her first bite, envious of the fucking fork that disappears into those lush lips of hers. I can see mealtimes being a challenge from here on out.

“Little Spark, Ember, honey,” Richard, Ember’s dad says, and to be honest, I’d almost forgotten he was there. It pisses me off that he didn’t notice Odette’s cruel words to his daughter a moment ago, but then again, she’s good at sinking her claws into men and getting them so obsessed with her that they don’t see much else. I’ve seen her do it countless times over the years. Ember looks up at him, those baby blues giving him her entire focus. There’s a burning feeling inside my chest when she continues to stare at her father, because I want her to focus on me and no one else. Well, I’ll make a concession for my brothers, but no one but us gets to touch her. “Odette and I have been talking, and we think it’s best if you stay at home and we bring in tutors from now on, just like the boys have.”

The clatter of her fork hitting the plate sounds like a gunshot in the room, and my hand goes to her thigh, rubbing soothing circles on it when her mouth falls open as her breath hitches.

“What did you just say?” she questions in a trembling voice, her body quivering. “What about college? My friends?” Her face is lined with confusion, her voice a little wobbly, and my chest aches at hearing the hint of her upset. I’m all for this suggestion though, because I want her here with us. Fuck letting any other dickhead even look at her. Yet a part of me feels the need to make it right, to take away any slight pain she may feel. That reaction is…unexpected.

“Well, you’ll have the boys, and I’m sure you can still see your friends from time to time,” Odette adds dismissively, tilting her head to the side as she studies Ember like a snake might a little mouse. She pauses in cutting up her sliced avocado while Richard nods, who turns to stare at Odette with such adoration it makes me feel queasy. She doesn’t deserve it, not by a long shot. “And having one-on-one tuition is the best type of education. You want the best education, don’t you, Ember?”

Odette’s tone leaves me feeling uneasy. She’s spoken to us like that, like we’re being so unreasonable for wanting something other than what she has decided. Like we’re stupid. My palm tightens on Ember’s leg, and I only ease up when she inhales a sharp breath. I’m not sure whether it was my tight grip or Odette’s words, but either way, I don’t like Odette talking to my darlin’ like that, and I don’t want to cause her pain, so I loosen my grip.

“O–of course I do, but I’ve only just started my final year. Isn’t this a bit disruptive? And you know I wanted to go to Goldsmiths, so I can’t afford to let things slip.” She misses the pinch of Odette’s brows because she’s too busy looking at her dad, her dark brows lowered over her sparkling eyes. The guys and I don’t though, all of us stiffening in our seats. We know what it’s like to be on the sharp end of her temper, and it ain’t pretty. My heart thuds hard inside my chest as I shift in my seat, torn between protecting Ember from Odette and terrified of making her more of a target. If Odette knows how obsessed any of us are over our stepsister, she’ll make no bones about using Ember against us.

“Well, it’s a good thing that your father secured you an alumnus from Goldsmiths as your art tutor, isn’t it?” Her condescending tone leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I can see how the others all look at Odette with a weariness born from years of having that tone directed at us. Ember won’t win this, not now that Odette has made a decision.

“That’s amazing, really, but I just think we need to discuss this a bit more. It’s a huge upheaval, and I enjoy college life. I’ve been doing really well in my classes and—”

“Enough!” Richard barks before slamming his hands down on the table, and Ember jumps, her hands flying to her chest as a gasp falls from her lips. My nostrils flare as I glare at her dad, my teeth grinding at the audacity of him speaking to her like that. I don’t give a fuck if he’s her dad, no one gets to make her flinch like a kicked puppy. I go to open my mouth and tell him to calm the fuck down, damn the consequences with Odette, but he speaks once more before I can utter a word. “Ember, it’s been decided, and that’s the end of it. You’ll be staying at home to continue your education.” Ember’s shoulders slump when she gives in, though the tension in her muscles and her pinched lips tell me she’s pissed. Suddenly, I don’t want her to let them win. I want her fire. I can see it simmering just below the surface, and I want it to burn us all.

“W–when do I leave?” she asks quietly, and a knot forms at the back of my jaw at the sound of defeat in her voice.

I fucking hate it, and I loathe being stuck in between a rock and a hard place. If I intervene, it may just make things worse for her with Odette. Perhaps not right away, but Odette is a conniving, manipulating bitch who’ll store the information that I’ll jump to Ember’s defense away, wielding it like a honed blade to deliver a devastating blow at the time of her choosing. My stomach hardens as I sit there, doing nothing, just like I always have done.

“Your tutors will start on Monday, same as the boys, so you have the weekend to relax and to get to know each other better.” I move my hand up higher on her thigh, watching the way her breath hitches when my fingers brush just below the apex of her thighs. Maybe I can get that fire some other way, distract her a little. “You’ll share some sessions with Christopher and Octavius, and you’ll all take riding lessons together in Hyde Park. Trust me, Ember, this is for the best.” Odette, clearly finished, goes back to her coffee and sliced avocado while talking with Richard.

“It’s not all bad, Sugar,” I whisper, inhaling her scent of lavender and rosemary. I love the sharp perfume and want to coat myself in it, in her. “This way, we’ll get to spend more time together, discover everything about each other.” My fingers coast higher, and her chest rises and falls rapidly as her cheeks brighten.

“I thought you knew everything about me, Prince?” she questions in a sassy tone, tipping her head towards me, and fuck, her eyes are like the purest sapphires, drowning me in their brilliance. The hint of fire is back, and my chest warms knowing I had something to do with relighting it. Then her words and brattiness register and I find I like it, my lips splitting into a wide grin. I like it a lot.

“Oh, I know almost everything,” I say, inching my fingers up higher until I’m stroking over her jeans-clad pussy. I bite my bottom lip at how warm she feels and how wet I know she is underneath those pants. “But there is always more to find out, don’t you think?”

Her eyelids flutter when I apply pressure just over her clit, her hands clenching the edge of the table, but I don’t let up, seeing how far I can take her. I’ve learned to read a woman and her reactions like a book, and the sweat that breaks out on her brows tells me she’s close.

“Ember?” her father queries, back to the doting-sounding man that we’ve all come to know. Fucking Odette gets her claws in quick, moulding the men she finds so that they suit her needs. Ember jerks so suddenly, the plates rattle.

“Y–yes, Dad?” Her eyes remain on the table in front of her, and the blind fool doesn’t even fucking notice.

“Odette and I have plans today and won’t be back until later tonight. Why don’t you give the boys a tour of London, if you’re all not too jet-lagged?” He looks around at us, completely oblivious to where I am touching his daughter. I like Richard, he seems like an okay dad, but what a fucking fool. He’s completely clueless, especially where his daughter is concerned, and has been for years if our research on their relationship is sound, which it is because Oct knows what he’s doing. Luckily, she has us to take care of her now.

“I’m sure we’ll manage, especially if Ember is there to take care of us,” Kit answers, and I know his words are nowhere near as innocent as they sound, his eyes travelling up Ember’s torso before pausing on her luscious tits.

Fuck, I love the way her cheeks colour when we say shit like that. My cock jumps in my pants at the sight of her all flushed and needy. I press a little harder against the seam of her jeans again, and she coughs before drawing both lips between her teeth, her fingers gripping the table so hard that her knuckles turn white. She doesn’t push me off though, which in itself is very telling. She wants me, wants us, even if she’s trying to fight it. She’ll give in. She has no choice after all. She belonged to us six months ago. As soon as Odette told us about her, she was ours.

“Splendid!” Richard beams, still completely fucking oblivious, clearly too focused on his new bride. “That’s settled then. Take Davis,” he instructs, then takes out his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen. “And I have topped your account up, so just have fun and don’t worry about anything, okay, Little Spark?”

She lets out a slow breath, her hand finally coming to grab mine as she tries to push me away. I do like her fight. It’s cute that she thinks she can control what I do to her. We’ll teach her she has no control real soon.

“Okay, Dad.” She won’t look at him, her attention on her still mostly full plate of food. He doesn’t notice though as he turns back to Odette, dismissing his daughter and her pain like the fucking fool that he is.

I let her tug my fingers away from her core, but quickly flip my hand so that my fingers tangle with hers. A zap of electricity lights up my arm, and I catch her wide eyes as she looks back up at me. This effect she has on me, while wholly unexpected, isn’t unpleasant.

“Best finish your breakfast, Sugar,” I instruct her quietly, rubbing her knuckles with my thumb and liking the feel of holding her hand in mine. It’s so small, just like she is. “Looks like we’ve got a busy day.”

EMBER

As instructed, we take Davis—our driver—and the Bentley, which is a seven-seater so it can fit all of us, and head into the centre of London. The boys all jostle to be either side of me, but Prince and Cas win when they point out that the twins had me to themselves this morning. My cheeks must be flashing neon red because I had no fucking idea that it was common knowledge that they were in my bed.

I’m still furious about my dad pulling me from college, my shoulders tense with the injustice of it. Yes, I might not have lots of friends there, I’ve mostly kept to myself the past few years, but it was still something that was mine, something that I enjoyed doing every day. Not to mention it got me out of that mausoleum of a house, though I suppose it won’t feel so empty now that the guys are there too.

Either way, he should have consulted it with me because I’ve been basically raising myself since Mum died. He’s not been there to have a say and certainly hasn’t earned any kind of right to say what I can and can’t do. My jaw clenches, frustration at my inability to just say all of that to him giving me the start of a headache. It’s been this way for the past couple of years, the more he withdrew from me, the more I couldn’t speak my mind, some part of me fearful that if I did, he’d leave entirely.

I settle in my seat when a flare of pain in my heart has me rubbing my chest as I remember the way he shouted at me, completely railroading me. He really isn’t the man I used to know and admire. Is that because of Odette? Was he really like this before he met Mum? Or is this the man he’s become and I just didn’t see it? I guess given the distance that’s now between us, how would I know the sort of man he is?

“Where to, Miss Everly?” Davis asks, interrupting my pity party. His eyes dart to mine in the rearview mirror. He’s around my father’s age, early fifties, and is handsome in a silver fox kind of way. He’s been with us for the past couple of years since Dad decided we needed a full-time driver—in part, I think because he’s too worried something will happen to me if I learn to drive myself. I would have liked the option, but I never wanted to make an issue out of it. I always wanted to keep the peace, yet look where that got me. Now I have a new stepmother and four stepbrothers that I had no fucking clue about until yesterday. I clearly matter so little to Dad that I don’t need to be involved in anything to do with our family.

I take a deep inhale, deciding that I need to step out of the huff, otherwise, I’ll just spiral into a pit of despair, and I promised myself I wouldn’t go back there.

“We’d like to see the sights, so um, maybe Trafalgar Square?” A rush of genuine excitement enters my veins when I think about going to the National Gallery and showing them some of the wonderful artwork inside. It’s one of my favourite places in London. I love all the museums, but the beautiful art that’s housed at the National always calms my soul. I’ve spent many an afternoon getting lost in its galleries, letting my mind just absorb the beauty around me and forget all the pain and heartache.

“Of course, Miss,” Davis replies, and then the privacy screen comes up between us and him, leaving me with my new stepbrothers.

“What has you smiling so beautifully, Little Cinders?” Cas questions in a husky voice as we pull onto the main road. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine at the sound. Shit, I am so fucked when it comes to these guys.

“Why do you call me that?” I counter, twisting around to look into his beautiful, copper eyes, which sparkle in the light when the spring sunshine hits his face every so often. I’m itching to capture them on paper, my fingers twitching with the need for my pencil and watercolours. I could even add in some metallic, just to try and capture the way they practically glow.

“I asked first,” he replies with a smirk that does terrible things to my already damp knickers thanks to Prince at breakfast. To be fair, it was a good distraction, although a part of me is pissed that he stole some of my crossness, even if I was never going to win that battle. I take in a sharp breath when Cas reaches out and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, his touch sending pulses all the way down to my needy core.

“I thought maybe we could go to the National Gallery, and I’ll show you some of my favourite paintings, if you like?” I’m useless to resist his commands when he touches me. Now that the words have left my mouth I feel almost shy, sucking my lower lip under my teeth and nibbling it. He tuts, his thumb pulling my lip out and lingering for a moment before he pulls it away.

“That sounds perfect, Little Cinders,” he says, his lips quirking up in a half smile, and I can’t help mine doing the same. “And I call you that because you remind me of Cinderella with your long, blonde hair and big, sad, blue eyes.”

My brows dip when he says the last bit, not wanting to believe that he can see more than I’m willing to show to the world. “I have sad eyes?” I have to swallow past the lump in my throat as his face softens and he palms my cheek. For a moment, for a single space in time, I forget that he’s my stepbrother, and I lean into the touch, my breath easing out of me in a sigh of pure bliss. Cas calms me in a way that I’ve never experienced before, and I’m quickly becoming addicted to the feeling. The body wants what it wants, even if the mind knows it’s wrong.

“There’s a world of pain in those blue depths of yours, Little Cinders, like your heart has been broken and you’re not sure how to put back the pieces.”

How does he see me so clearly? How does he look into my eyes and understand the pain I’m going through from my mother dying and my father pulling away to lose himself in business and a new family, as if it’s plain for all to see?

Tears sting my eyes and he lets out a deep sigh before he tugs me closer until our foreheads touch. It feels so intimate and leaves me taking a trembling breath that fans across his lips. I close my eyes and tears spill down my cheeks in a warm river, but I don’t wipe them away. I can’t move as I breathe him in, his tart, toffee apple scent a balm that I need more of.

“Like recognizes like, Little Cinders. We share the same pain of losing a loved one, we all do. Your sorrow is ours and ours is yours. It’s what connects us, Ember.”

My hands come up, fisting his soft jumper, and a small sob falls from my lips. Then I open my eyes and I’m drowning in his copper orbs.

“W–who did you lose?”

He takes a shuddering inhale, and the sound is so raw that it breaks my already fractured heart a bit more. “My mom had a miscarriage when I was nine and she fell into a deep depression. She couldn’t get over the loss. One day, we couldn’t wake her up because she’d OD’d on sleeping pills.” A soft noise escapes my throat, my hands tightening in his jumper until my fingers go numb. “Dad wasn’t able to cope, all alone with an angry and hurting nine-year-old boy. He jumped off Manhattan Bridge two months later. Odette had been a family friend for a while, trying to help Dad, and then took me in when I became an orphan.”

“No—” My gasp ends on a muffle as I pull him closer to me, burying my face in his neck and sobbing against his skin. “Cas, I—” My chest tightens at the memory of what I’d done earlier, the way I’d cut myself. I’d never go that far, to take my own life. Well, not anymore anyway.

“Shhhh, baby. It’s in the past now, and I never would have met these guys or you if it hadn’t happened, so it’s not all bad.” He pulls me even closer, rubbing my back to soothe me when I should be the one comforting him. I soak in his embrace for a few moments before I drag myself away from him.

“Shit, Cas, I should be comforting you, not the other way round,” I say, my voice thick.

“Don’t apologize for being sad for me. I don’t think anyone has ever cried for me before,” he tells me softly, a look of wonder on his face as he brushes one of my tears away. The crack he’s unwittingly caused in my heart grows bigger, filling with all things Cas. “I’m sorry I stole your smile, Little Cinders. I don’t like to see you cry.”

Warmth presses against my back, the smell of rum, leather, and cedar surrounding me as Prince wraps his arms around me and pulls me back so that I’m flush against his front. My arms stretch, my fingers still gripping Cas’s jumper, and his copper eyes burn with a need that leaves me weak-kneed as they look at me and Prince.

“I only ever want to see you cry when you’re begging me to stop, and you will beg, Sugar,” he purrs in my ear, and it’s as if my body flashes with heat, burning away the sadness from moments before. He’s good at distraction it seems, but perhaps he doesn’t like to see me sad either? He rubs his nose up my neck, shivers following in his wake, and I can barely catch my breath with the change from desperate sorrow to molten lust.

“Seems like you’re the one begging, Prince,” I rasp, my filter blown to smithereens, and my eyes widen at the brazenness of my comment when he pauses.

“Oh, that’s fighting talk, little sis,” Oct comments from the seats behind me, and I’m frozen, cursing myself as one of Prince’s large palms glides up my shoulder before wrapping around the front of my throat in a way that has dampness soaking my knickers.

“Is that so?” he questions, his other hand skimming down my side, slipping around the front of me and stopping just above the button of my jeans. Cas brings his hands over mine, holding them captive against him as Prince slowly undoes the button, then the zipper of my jeans. My body trembles underneath their grip, but they hold me captive, not letting me stop what I know is about to happen.

You wouldn’t stop them anyway. You like having the control taken from you.

Damn my stupid inner bitch knowing my darkest desires. I’m brought back to the present when his fingers slide inside my cotton knickers, and the thought that perhaps I should have worn lace flits through my mind before he fries all my fucking brain cells when he makes contact with my slick folds.

“Prince…” I moan, pushing my hips up in a bid to seek more friction.

“I told you that you would beg me, darlin’,” he breathes in my ear, the warmth of his breath making my nipples pebble and ache for attention, the wrongness of what’s happening just making me wetter. “And you proved me right in less than thirty seconds. Now, why don’t you add a please to that and I’ll let you come all over my fingers.”

Fuck. Me.

I lick my lips, contemplating not saying a word, but I’d be kidding myself if I thought that I wasn’t going to do anything other than what he commands of me.

“Please, Prince,” I plead in a cracked, desperate tone, not even recognising the wanton, husky sound of my voice.

“Fuck, Little Cinders,” Cas rasps as he looks down at Prince’s hand between my legs.

“Good girl,” Prince praises, and I just fucking melt as he begins to swirl his fingers and tease my clit. “She’s so fucking wet.” Three deep groans sound in the enclosed space, causing more wetness to seep from me.

“Oh, fuck, Prince,” I gasp, his touch driving me crazy, all my previous sorrow forgotten as I grind against his hand, my eyelids fluttering and back arching with the pleasure that’s running through me like an electric pulse.

“Take her jeans off, I need to get my fingers inside her,” Prince orders in a low drawl that teases across my skin, leaving me panting and desperate.

“Lift, Cinders,” Cas commands, and I comply, raising my hips. I’m unable and unwilling to stop chasing the high that is just out of reach. I need the release, and need to feel wanted and desired, to not be dismissed, and to be worshipped like Prince is doing right now.

Cas pulls my jeans and knickers down, leaving them around my ankles. Then he pushes my thighs apart and widens my legs, and the twins groan from the back.

“Such a pretty pink pussy,” Kit purrs from next to my ear, and my head falls to land on Prince’s shoulder as I open my thighs wider, encouraging him to go lower with his hand. I roll my gaze to look at Kit and Oct in the back seat and find matching looks of lust written over their faces and lips parted as they sit forward, staring at my dripping cunt.

“Use your words, Sugar,” Prince commands before sucking and kissing my neck.

I’m going straight to hell because I don’t even think about disobeying my stepbrother, my gaze flitting to Cas’s in front of me, drowning in copper.

“Please fuck me with your fingers, Prince. Please make me come.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cinders,” Cas rasps, and I gasp when he pulls his hard cock out of his jeans. Fucking hell, that’s a gorgeous dick. It’s thick and long, and my eyes widen when I see the glint of metal at the end.

“She just got wetter looking at your dick, Cas,” Prince informs him just as he lowers his fingers and slams two of them inside my aching cunt.

“Prince!” I cry out, so wound up that I’m coming already, wetness squirting out of me as I grip Cas’s jumper so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t rip.

“Shit, she just squirted everywhere,” Oct moans, but I can’t concentrate on anything other than Prince’s fingers as he keeps thrusting in time to Cas pumping his dick. I come again when Cas goes rigid, his hips pitching forward and spurts of cum hit my pussy and lower stomach.

I expect Prince to pull back, but he doesn’t. Instead, he scoops it up and stuffs Cas’s cum inside me, sending shock waves throughout my entire body as he stuffs me full. As the waves of pleasure subside, my hands drop from Cas’s jumper to rest at my sides, and I slump against Prince as I bask in the glow of two epic fucking orgasms.

“Such a good fucking girl for your brothers,” Oct whispers, and I roll my head to the side to see him looking at what Prince is doing, his blue eyes almost black and his pupils blown.

“She clenches around my fingers when you call her that, Oct,” Prince murmurs, exposing all my dirty secrets and keeping his fingers inside me as though he wants to keep Cas’s cum there. “You like it when he reminds you we’re your brothers, don’t you?”

I look straight into Oct’s eyes, having no energy left to fight whatever it is that’s going on between us. Not that I want to. “Yes.”

My answer doesn’t even shock me anymore. I’ve always liked sex, but with these guys, it’s like I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I’ve had the three best orgasms of my life today, and none of them was with a dick inside me.

A thread of doubt creeps in, covering my post-orgasm glow in the murky pink of shame. My climaxes were with people whom I definitely shouldn’t be sexually attracted to, they’re my new brothers for fuck’s sake. My family. What the fuck am I doing?

I must stiffen a little because Kit is suddenly there, my sweat-damp face in his palms.

“Our secret, remember?” My breathing calms as I look deep into his stormy eyes, nothing but acceptance and reassurance in their depths. “Nothing that feels this good is bad, okay?”

“O–okay.” I nod like a fucking idiot, but there’s something about following their lead, doing as they say, and letting them take control that puts me at ease.

It’s as if I can finally let go and leave someone else in charge of my life, which is strange as I felt so out of control after Mum passed that it’s all I’ve craved since, but I’m just so tired. So tired of having to push myself to even get out of bed some days.

“Let us take care of you, Cinders,” Cas urges, pulling some wet wipes from somewhere and nudging Prince’s fingers from inside me. I moan as Prince withdraws while grumbling. Then I hear more than see him lick and suck his slick fingers and my breath catches. Prince is tasting mine and Cas’s releases and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever come across.

“He tastes good on you, Sugar,” he groans, bringing his fingers to my lips. I hold Cas’s stare as I open my mouth, allowing Prince to slide a long digit inside. A musky saltiness bursts on my tongue, my own flavour mixed with Cas’s, and my eyelids flutter as I greedily clean every inch of Prince’s finger, my hands holding his wrist so I can start on another.

“Fuck, I’m hard again,” Oct whines from the seats behind me, and I hear the others murmur their agreement, but if I’m doing this, I’m fucking doing this.

Letting go of Prince’s hand, I lean forward towards Cas, my jeans and knickers still around my ankles but I don’t give a shit. Cas looks up, and I swoop in, pressing my lips to his and sliding my tongue into his mouth when his lips part in surprise. I want to give him a taste of us too, and I’ve been wondering what those lips would feel like ever since I met him yesterday.

Fuck, was it only a little over twelve hours ago that these boys came strolling into my house, into my life? And now I’m making out with one, his cum leaking out of my pussy while the other three watch.

“I do taste good on you, Cinders,” he mumbles against my kiss-swollen lips before we part, his voice a husky purr that has my core clenching again. “But we should probably finish getting you cleaned up.”

I give him a nod, sucking my lower lip under my teeth and running my tongue along it to catch the last taste of him.

I’m in so much fucking trouble with these guys, and I’m not sure that I care.

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