Tacet a Mortuis (The Elite King's Club 3)

Something caught the corner of my eyes. I screamed, grabbing for the blanket to cover my body.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account…” Brantley stepped forward, pushing his hands into his pockets. His head tilted and his eyes turned hungry as they ran down my body, taking in the scene that was playing out in front of him.

“Brantley!” I snapped, clicking my fingers to pull him out of his pervy state. I could feel Nate’s body jiggling underneath me from laughing, his hand covering his mouth.

“Brantley!” I repeated in the same tone.

“Hmm?” He casually brought his eyes to mine, and they darkened even more. His eyebrows pinched together and his mouth kicked up in a grin. It was the kind of dark grin Brantley usually gives me. You know, the one that sets chills off over my spine? Yeah, that one. My focus was still on him when Nate thrust his hips up to mine, his thick cock grinding against my clit. My eyes closed and my lips parted, my cheeks flashing with heat. Another moan slipped from me involuntarily, and I bit down on my bottom lip. Reality hit me and my eyes slammed open, back onto Brantley. Slowly, like a lion would approach its unknowing prey, he strode backward, his eyes staying on mine and then in one click, he pushed the door closed. My eyes dropped down to Nate. I felt safe with these guys—mostly. Okay, not ever with Brantley, but I do with Nate, so when he nodded his head, I tugged my lips in, looked to Brantley, and gave him a slow approving smile. Brantley waltzed toward the bed, his eyes clouding over in lust. He hooked his fingers under his shirt and tossed it across the room to the pile where my shirt was. His chest glistened in a golden glaze, and both his freaking nipples were pierced. His abs and chest were so defined you could probably stencil every single line and vein with a pencil and paper. He had the Elite King tattoo over his chest, with the skull and the crown and his last name “Vitiosis” in cursive writing underneath it. I noticed all of the boys who I’ve seen with no shirt on, all had the same king tattoo, but what I thought were scribbles underneath, I now know was their Latin last names. These boys dripped and oozed sex appeal, way too much for little old me. But…

My eyes closed again as I felt the bed dip beside me.

“C’mere, girl.” Nate’s fingers wrapped around my chin as he pulled my mouth down to his. He slowly ran his warm soft lips over mine and whispered, “You good?” I swallowed past my fleeting nerves, just as Brantley pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, igniting a whole new wave—no—tsunami of waves to come crashing over me. I shuddered, my legs going weak and my sex throbbing.

“Yes,” I moaned out my answer as Brantley came behind me, his chest brushing against my back every so often as his mouth and tongue ran circles over the nape of my neck. His hand massaged my breast, his fingers twisting and twisting my nipples between his fingers. A pool of heat slicked between my legs as my thrusting became more urg—the door swung open.

“Hey, Mads, I wanna tal—” Jase cut out and I, once again, reached for the sheet. I drew the line at blood brothers. “Holy fuck!” Jase’s hands flew up to his eyes, but he didn’t leave.

“Unless you wanna add incest into your river of sins, brother, I suggest you back up and forget what you saw.”

Jase’s jaw clenched. “I ain’t going anywhere. Mads, put some fucking clothes on and meet me downstairs.” Then he turned and left anyway, slamming the door behind himself.

“Fuck! What’s a girl gotta do to get laid around here.” I huffed, pushing off Nate and getting to my feet, making a beeline for my shirt. “Seriously,” I muttered under my breath, talking to myself. “I’m surrounded by ten of the hottest guys known to mankind—well, eight now because two are my brothers—some of them already have a connection with me—”

“—all of them…have a connection with you,” Brantley interrupted, but I cut him with a glare, shoving my top over my head.

“I can’t even get laid. My ex-boyfriend is a lying piece of shit, my family are deranged maniacs, my brother—”

“—step, if you’re about to start on me,” Nate interjected, climbing out of my bed. I sliced him with a glare too and finally walked out of my room, down the long hallway and then double stepped down the swivel stairs, still muttering cuss words under my breath. I hadn’t even decided to tidy myself up before I came down, so I’m wearing a shirt that weirdly falls to just above my knees, and my hair was a freaking bird’s nest all over the place. I needed a trim. And a change of color. I’m sick of being brunette, but I’ll never go blonde, so maybe I could think of something else.