Blissful Masquerade: A Dark Why Choose Romance (Ruthless Desires Book 1)

WE SPEND the day just existing together.

None of them will do more than kiss me, saying they don’t want to make me too sore. It’s sweet, but every goddamned thing they do turns me on, so it leaves me squirming with want.

Elliot wakes up some time before lunch, and we spend our afternoon hanging out in the living room—reading, playing games, completely normal stuff.

The whole day is a blissful masquerade of pretending that we’re more to each other than we are. Pretending that, at the end of the day, I’m not leaving.

The thought makes my heart ache. I tried so hard not to let these men burrow their way into my affections, but I failed. I’ve never felt so cared for before, and I don’t want to let it go.

But you barely know them, I tell myself all day. Is it worth the risk?

My heart tells me it is—that it’ll be worth getting broken again if it means more time in the arms of Elliot, Oliver, and Rhett. But my mind isn’t so sure, and it’s always been more reliable than my foolish heart.

They’ve known each other since high school. And while they may be a few years older than I am, that’s still almost ten years for me. So for them, it’s even longer.

How can I compare to that? They know each other inside out. Could I fit into their relationship? Do they want me to?

As I’m sitting on the couch next to Elliot, the thought that they don’t want me stings. Of course, this all started as a one-night thing with Elliot, and then it turned into a weekend.

But none of them have brought up the idea of extending this—for a week, a month, indefinitely, whatever.

And I’m too scared to brave asking the question myself.

“Something’s on your mind.” Elliot closes his book, setting it on the arm of the couch and turning to me.

Both Rhett and Oliver look up from the puzzle they’re working on together. With all three of them watching me, I can’t help but squirm.

“I don’t really want to talk about it. If that’s okay.” I stare down at my book while I say the last part.

“Of course it is, love.” Elliot kisses my forehead, and it sends a mixture of happiness and dread through me.

Maybe I should just leave now. The longer I draw it out, the harder this is going to be.

But I can’t seem to bring myself to ask one of them to take me home. And when dinnertime rolls around again, I find myself sneaking into Elliot’s room to change into the skimpiest, laciest nightgown I’ve ever seen.

It doesn’t even come halfway down my ass, and it shows off a bit of underboob—which I’m sure will have Oliver drooling. With a smile at myself in the mirror, I turn, admiring myself from every angle.

Last night, it was ridiculously satisfying to watch all three men adjust themselves in their pants when I came down to dinner dressed in almost nothing. I can’t wait to do it again.

I catch Rhett’s reflection in the mirror. He’s holding something in his hands that I can’t quite make out.

“Christ,” he mutters.

I turn, letting him admire my curves. “What do you think?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you hate us. You’re really going to make us sit through dinner with you wearing this?”

I nod, giggling.

He sighs. “At least it’ll be worth it.” With a few steps, he’s on me, backing me into the bed. One of his hands fists the hair at the back of my head, pulling it so I’m looking up at him. “Tonight, I’m taking this perfect ass of yours. And you’re going to thank me afterward.”

I nod, a smile forming on my lips.

“Now turn around and put your ass in the air.”

I obey, gasping when he shoves my panties down and gives me a lick from my clit to my asshole.

“Relax, sweetheart.”

I do, taking a couple of deep breaths. I feel his finger prodding me, already wet with lube, and I moan when he pushes inside of me.

“Tell me, do you want me?” He nips at one of my ass cheeks.

“Yes,” I whimper as he adds a second finger. I haven’t forgotten that he’s only been in my mouth so far. “Please, Rhett. Please.”

He eases his fingers out of me before replacing them with something else that’s bigger, but not warm enough to be his cock. “You’ll have to wait until after dinner.”

I relax as he pushes the butt plug into me. Then he stands up, keeping a hand on my back as he admires his handiwork.

“You’re going to feel so good, sweetheart. Now come and eat.”

Downstairs, Oliver lets out a groan when he sees me. “What did I tell you about teasing me, princess?”

I just grin at him.

“We ordered takeout,” Elliot says, pulling me into his lap. He’s sitting at the table, picking at a bowl of grapes. My stomach growls at the sight, so he grabs one and places it against my lips.

I open my mouth. He slides it in slowly, and then he runs his thumb across my bottom lip. The simple action sends sparks shooting down my body. When the sweetness of the grape bursts on my tongue, I moan.

He gives me another one, and this time, I capture his finger in my mouth, too, sucking while he slowly pulls it out.

“You know what?” Elliot says, one of his hands running up my stomach before cupping my breast. “Fuck waiting until after dinner.”

I roll my eyes. “You can wait.”

“I don’t think I can.” He kisses the back of my neck. “You smell so fucking good.”

His words cause me to shiver, but I don’t give in. I tested my limits with Oliver last night. Today, it’s time to see what Elliot will do when I tease him.

So I turn to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and lean in slowly for a kiss. But at the last second, I jump from his lap and bolt out of the room.

It’s less than five seconds before he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder. I squeal, giggling as he hauls me back into the kitchen.

“You fuck us a couple times, and all your shyness disappears, huh? Trust me, love, it’s in your best interest to drop the attitude right fucking now.”

“Hmm.” I tap my finger to my chin, like I’m thinking, which causes Oliver to snort. “Why don’t you make me?”

He sets me down roughly, but it doesn’t go unnoticed how he keeps his hands on me until I’ve gained my balance. “Get on your knees.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Make me.”

And oh, he does. With his hands on my shoulders, he forces me down until I’m at eye-level with the erection straining against his pants. He has it out in seconds, brushing the tip against my lips.

“Open up,” he says, “so I can fuck the attitude right out of this pretty little mouth of yours.”

For a moment, I just smile up at him. But the want stirring between my legs doesn’t let me hold out for any longer. I flick my tongue out and lick him before opening my mouth wide.

“Good girl.” He fists my hair, yanking me forward until his cock hits the back of my throat.

I gag, but I close my lips around him as he sets his pace—fast and punishing. All I can do is hold on to his legs and try to breathe. He groans when he looks down to see tears streaming from my cheeks and a mixture of saliva and precum trailing from my mouth.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well. Such a pretty little slut.”

I whimper as he takes me even harder, his grip on my hair tightening.

“Tap my thigh if you need a break, love.”

I don’t. I’ve loved every gentle, caring thing these men have done for me. But this? I’ve wanted it for so long. I just didn’t trust anyone to respect my boundaries the way they do.

“I’m going to come in your mouth,” Elliot grunts. “But you’re not allowed to swallow until I give you permission. Understood?”

I let out a strangled sound that I hope he takes as a yes. And then he swears, and his pace finally slows as I feel him finish in my mouth.

When he pulls out, I keep my mouth open so he can see, tilting my head back.

He smiles down at me. “I like you best when you look like this.”

Then he walks behind me, and I hear him doing something, but I’m not quite sure what. Until I feel his hands on the back of my thighs, pushing them apart. And then he appears in between my legs, on his back and looking up at me.

“Sit.”

I do, and his tongue lashes out at me, like he’s still angry that I talked back to him. My moans come out garbled and muffled, since my mouth is still full of his cum. It’s an odd sensation, and yet another thing I’ve never done before.

Elliot’s hands come to my hips, steadying me, and I realize I’ve been rocking against his face.

“Sit still, or I won’t let you come.”

I whimper, my hands grasping his. Then he goes back to work, sucking my clit into his mouth.

Oliver kneels in front of me, his lips brushing across the skin of my jawbone. When he runs the pads of his thumbs over my nipples, and then pinches them between his fingers, it takes everything in my willpower not to scream.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so goddamned hot like this.”

Then he leans down and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue flicks it back and forth, and it sends the first wave of my undoing through me.

All I can do is keep my mouth clamped shut as my orgasm rips through me. Oliver catches me when I fall forward, and Elliot gives me one last lick before sliding out from underneath me.

He comes around to stand over me. “Show me one last time.”

I open my mouth, panting.

“Swallow.”

I do. I swear, I’ve never wanted to obey a man before these three. But now, I’m ready to do whatever the hell any of them tell me to.

“Such a good girl,” Oliver says before pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that takes my breath away. “Mmm. Ell, you taste good on her.”

Oliver pulls me up, and Rhett comes behind me. At some point, they both stripped. I take a deep breath to calm the butterflies that appear in my stomach at the sight of them.

“Are you ready for more, princess?”

I nod.

Rhett comes behind me, palming my ass. “Bend over, sweetheart, and relax.”

Oh god.

I do, and he slowly pulls the butt plug out of me. He disappears for a moment, coming back with a bottle of lube in his hands and a smirk on his face.

Oliver bites my ear lightly. “We’re both going to fill you, and you’re going to take it like the good little slut you are.”

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper as Oliver picks up one of legs, holding it to give them more room. I help guide his cock to my entrance, and we both moan when he slips inside.

Once he’s settled into a decent pace, I feel Rhett fill me from behind. He’s gentle, easing into me slowly.

My head falls back and hits his chest.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he whispers in my ear.

Oliver slows, giving me a chance to catch my breath. Rhett pushes himself in further, holding onto my hips.

“You’re doing so well, Wren.” I don’t know who says it—I’m too lost in the new sensations, in the way they both feel inside me.

My eyes meet Elliot’s, and I find him watching with an appreciative look on his face. But I only catch his gaze for a moment before my eyes close from pure bliss.

“Oh fuck,” I whisper, grabbing onto Oliver’s shoulders.

He chuckles. “I don’t think she’s going to last long.” As if to prove his point, his free hand snakes down my front, and he presses his thumb against my clit.

Tiny explosions erupt with every movement he makes. Rhett keeps his pace slow and steady, but Oliver’s thrusts turn rougher as they push me closer to the edge.

One of Rhett’s hands wraps around my throat, squeezing lightly. And then I’m coming, lost between the two of them. Rhett’s other hand clamps over my mouth as I scream, and it only makes me come harder.

They don’t relent—not until my body calms down, just to be manipulated into another earth-shattering orgasm. When they both finally come, my legs are shaking, and their arms are the only things keeping me from collapsing onto the floor in a shivering puddle.

Someone takes me into the shower, washing my hair and cleaning the sweat off my body. The faint smell of sandalwood and sweet citrus calms me as he dries me off.

And then my body is swinging, a pair of strong arms lifting me off the floor and carrying me.

Dread pangs in my heart, and I can’t get rid of the nagging feeling that there’s something I need to do. But I’m too sated and dazed to figure it out, so I drift off to sleep, sandwiched between two warm bodies.

WHEN I WAKE, it’s dark out. I’m on a couch, my head resting on someone’s leg. Flames flicker in the fireplace, the only light in the room.

“She needs to go,” someone says. Elliot, I think.

“I don’t want her to.” Oliver’s voice is pouty, and it puts a small smile on my lips.

“I’m pretty sure she works Mondays. She’s gonna have to get home so she can get ready for work in the morning.”

Are they talking about me?

“Why?” Oliver says too loudly, almost angrily. “Why can’t we figure out a way to make this work? She means something to all of us, so why not just admit it to her? We can take care of her.”

“That’s way too fast, O,” Rhett says from above me. His hand comes down to stroke my hair, and I have to fight the urge to look up at him. I want to hear where this conversation is going.

Elliot sighs. “Oliver, you literally said just Friday that it’s a bad idea to pursue a relationship with her.”

“Well, I changed my fucking mind. I can’t go back to just seeing her once a week. And neither of you can, either.”

Oh my god, they’re talking about me.

“I’ve been contemplating finding a new coffee shop,” Elliot says in a defeated voice. He sounds . . . deflated.

“You’re never going to get her out of your head, Ell. You said so yourself. We’ve wanted her for so long, and we never thought we could have her, but now she’s here. How can you let her go?”

My heart squeezes. Are they really so head-over-heels for me that the thought of seeing me without having me would be that hard? Hard enough to make them switch coffee shops?

Wait. Why do they think they can’t have me?

“What about what Wren wants?” Rhett’s hand moves to my shoulder, running down my arm. “What if she wants us, too?”

I do. Fuck being careful.

“What if she doesn’t? Besides, we all know it’d be too complicated. Our sleep schedules are a mess, and it’s not like we can change that. And what about—”

“I know,” Oliver snaps, and I can just barely see him slump in his chair in my peripheral vision.

“We need to take her home, and then we need to leave her alone,” Elliot says. “This weekend has been amazing—a fantasy come true. But that’s all it’s been. A fantasy. We need to let her go and try to forget about her.”

No, I shout in my head. But the sound echoes throughout the room, very real and very audible.

“Fuck,” Rhett mutters, pulling me up and into his lap. “How much of that did you hear?”

Tears spring to my eyes, but I blink them back. This is exactly what I was afraid of. I caught fucking feelings, and they’re going to do their best to forget me regardless of what I want. What they want.

I try to slide off his lap, but he holds me to him.

“What all did you hear, sweetheart?”

I turn to Elliot, and his face falls at my hurt expression. Yesterday, he made the claim that he cared about me more than any of the men who came before him. And I agreed with him. But now? Now, he just wants to forget me.

“Why?”

He sighs. “It’s . . . complicated, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He winces.

This was a mistake. This was a huge, giant mistake, and it’s going to make your life so much more fucking miserable.

“I want to go home.”

“Absolutely not.”

I think we’re all surprised when the words spill from Elliot’s lips. I try to squirm from Rhett’s arms, but he just holds onto me tighter.

“Not like this.” Elliot stands, coming to crouch in front of me. “I need you to understand, Wren. It’s not because I don’t want you. We all do. But our lives are . . . different from other people’s. It’s not easy, and it’s not always safe.”

As he explains, I remember how they’ve all avoided telling me what they do for a living. Are they spies? Assassins or something?

“I don’t understand,” I say flatly.

He rubs his face with his hands. “I guess I’m worried we’d add more stress to your life than happiness, lov- Wren.”

“But you won’t know unless you try,” I whisper. My tears have come back, and one falls onto my cheek.

He brushes it away tenderly, shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s worth the risk. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

Then explain it to me, I want to yell.

Is this weekend the universe playing some cruel joke on me? Breaking my heart, showing me that there are kind men out there, and then ripping them from my grasp?

No. No.

I can’t watch myself fall apart again. I don’t care if it’s only been a weekend. Somehow these men have stolen my heart, in a much bigger capacity than I was prepared for.

And I can’t just walk away.

I twist, looking at Rhett. “Let me go.” When he hesitates, I brush my fingers across his cheek. “I won’t run.”

He swallows, his gaze piercing me, like he’s looking straight into my heart. And then he releases me with a sigh.

Elliot touches my arm. “Wren, I think you should—”

“No!” I shout, standing and glaring up at him. “No. You don’t get to be patient and gentle and fucking nice to me, just to do this. You don’t get to make me feel the most cared for, the most safe, the most valued I’ve ever felt in my life, just to rip it away from me because you’re afraid. I’m afraid, too, Elliot. Of this. Of getting my heart broken again. But the three of you have embedded yourselves so deeply into me that I don’t think I’ll ever get you out, so here I am. I’m fucking facing my fears, Elliot. So why can’t you?”

He just stares at me for a moment. Oliver’s mouth is hanging open, and while I can’t see Rhett, I can feel his stare burning the skin on the back of my neck.

“Wren—”

“Don’t you dare tell me I should leave,” I whisper. Another tear falls.

He swallows. Sighs. “I think you’re right.”

I was already preparing a counter-argument, so his words are the last thing I expected. I stumble backward, shocked. Rhett places a hand on my back to steady me.

He thinks I’m . . . right?

“Jesus,” Oliver mutters. “You can reason with this fuckwit? Shit. Now we’re never letting you go.”