Sweet Salvation: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Ruthless Games Book 3) Read online

  Sweet Salvation

  Ruthless Games #3

  Callie Rose

  Copyright © 2020 by Callie Rose

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Books by Callie Rose

  Chapter 1

  Water sluices down from the shower head, washing away the sheen of sweat that covers my body. Droplets cling to the red roses on my right arm, trailing down to drip from the end of my amputated limb.

  Fighting one-handed is hard as fuck, but I’m getting better at it.

  Muscles I never knew existed before are sore from my training sessions with Ryland, and even though we’ve only been doing it for a few days, I can already feel my body strengthening and adapting.

  Good. We’ll all need to adapt fast in this changing landscape.

  I roll my neck as I step directly under the spray, letting the heat seep into my body. We just finished a two-hour sparring session where Ryland helped me make adjustments to the fighting techniques he’s teaching me to compensate for my missing limb.

  He was nominated to be the one to teach me all of this stuff since, out of the three men, he’s the one who has formal martial arts training. Theo and Marcus are good fighters because they have to be—they’ve all learned to defend themselves with any weapon at their disposal—but Ryland has actual training in Jiu Jitsu and a couple other forms.

  And now that we suspect Luca and the Viper are the same person, all three men want me to know how to defend myself.

  It’s hard to believe it’s only been five days since our visit to Luca’s house. Five days since that quick glimpse at the tattoo on his wrist sent me reeling, my mind putting together the pieces of an elaborate puzzle and finally seeing the complete picture.

  Luca has been playing everyone. His “game” was an elaborate setup, a distraction designed to pit the most powerful families in Halston against each other and allow Luca to fortify his control of the city.

  We still don’t have proof.

  All we have is the certainty that we’re right, a gut feeling that this entire situation is utterly fucked.

  That’s enough for me, and it’s enough for the men.

  But if we’re going to convince the other players that Luca is the real enemy, we’ll need a hell of a lot more than just our word. We need fucking evidence.

  Unfortunately, that’s proving harder to find than I’d hoped. Luca has done a good job of distancing himself from the Viper, keeping the connection between those two names basically non-existent.

  We’ll find something though.

  We have to.

  Letting out a breath, I grab the shampoo bottle from the small shelf set into the shower wall and pour some onto my dark hair. Then I set the bottle down and begin to work the shampoo into a lather. Sudsy water pours down my face and neck, and when I hear the quiet click of the door opening, I don’t open my eyes.

  I know who it is.

  There’s the soft shuffle of clothes being discarded, and a second later, the shower door opens. Even through the spray of the water and the sweet smell of the shampoo, I can pick up the soft bite of leather and the clean scent that I recognize instantly as Marcus.

  He steps up behind me, the broad expanse of his chest brushing against my back as he takes over massaging the shampoo into my hair. He’s already half-hard, his cock pressing into my lower back, and his touch is both tender and rough as he rubs his fingertips against my scalp.

  I make a soft noise in my throat, leaning back against him with my eyes still closed. “You could do that lower if you want.”

  He grunts, but once he finishes with my hair, he moves his hands down to my shoulders, leaving the suds in my dark locks. His strong hands knead away the tightness in my muscles, sending a pleasurable shiver down my spine.

  I’m not surprised he decided to join me in the shower.

  He’s been insatiable lately, unable to keep his hands off me. It’s not just him either. I’m the same way, and I can feel the same desperation in Theo and Ryland too. The fact that Ryland’s and my training sessions don’t devolve into sex every time is a testament to how serious he is about teaching me self-defense.

  We’re all scared of losing each other. We almost lost Marcus already, and we barely survived that.

  Whenever I’m around any of these men, it’s almost impossible to restrain the urge to wrap myself around them. To crawl into their laps and hold them as close as two people can get. To lose myself in their embrace and pretend that the electric connection that surges between us might be enough to keep the rest of the world out.

  It isn’t enough. I know that. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to try.

  “How was your training session?”

  Marcus’s deep voice cuts through my thoughts, the sound rumbling against my back.

  “It was good.” I drop my head a little, letting water pour over me as the tension in my shoulders unwinds. “He said after seeing me beat the shit out of Natalie, he knows I’ve got what it takes to be a fighter. He’s just helping me shape that into better technique.”

  Marcus huffs a breath that’s almost a laugh. “From what he and Theo have told me, you looked like an avenging goddess. I wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

  I turn around in his arms, tilting my head back to rinse out the last of the shampoo before I blink my eyes open to look up at him. Earth and air gaze back at me, the rich brown of his left iris contrasting with the split brown and blue of his right one. His eyes are mesmerizing, and not just because of their unique color. It’s what’s behind them that pulls me in every time, drawing me the way the moon draws the tide.

  I will never know enough about Marcus Constantine. Even if I spend my whole life by his side, my curiosity about him will never wane.

  I want everything.

  Every piece of who he is.

  I won’t settle for anything less.

  “If you’d been there, I probably wouldn’t have hit Natalie,” I tell him honestly, my arm wrapping around him. I can feel the scars of his bullet wounds on his back, and I trail my fingers lightly over them. “Every time my fist flew toward her face, I thought of you. I thought of where you might be, of the pain you might be in, of where your corpse might be if you were already dead. It hurt. My whole body felt filled to the brim with it, and I just couldn’t h old it in anymore. I wanted to kill her for what she did to you.” My jaw clenches, tears burning the backs of my eyes at the memory of my pain and rage. “So I guess she’s lucky I just smashed her face in instead.”

  Something glints in Marcus’s eyes, something feral and dangerous and possessive. It’s the kind of thing that used to scare me, back when he first reappeared in my life, invading my space, my thoughts, and my dreams.

  Obsession.

  Pure, raw obsession.

  It used to overwhelm me. It used to terrify me, knowing that I was the single focus of Marcus’s attention. That even before we’d said two words to each other, he knew more about me than most of the “friends” I’ve had over the years.

  Now, seeing that look in his eyes doesn’t make my stomach flip-flop with nerves. Instead, it sends a bolt of heat shooting through me, making liquid arousal pool in my belly.

  “Fuck, angel.” His large hands come up to frame my face, slicking my wet hair back as he looks down at me. “When you say shit like that…”

  He doesn’t bother to finish that sentence, showing me what he means by moving even closer to me. His cock presses against my stomach, fully hard now and hot against my skin. My pussy clenches in response, arousal spreading through my limbs as I wrap my arm around his neck, closing the last small fraction of space between us.

  I’m not a violent person by nature, but I would kill for this man.

  The truth of that realization takes me by surprise, and I blink up at him, my gaze tracking over the strong curve of his jawline and the perfect bow of his full lips. His brown hair has gotten wet, making it look shiny and darker than usual.

  At the moment, he looks like the thing he always calls me—an angel.

  A dark angel, beautiful and deadly.

  Rising up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. Marcus groans into my mouth, sliding his hands down my wet, slippery body to wrap around my waist as he hauls me against him. Our kiss is deep and sloppy, hungry and desperate, fueled by everything that’s led up to this moment.

  I could drown in this man, I think. I could fall into the depths of his soul and never resurface. Never want to.

  As if he’s trying to drown himself in me too, Marcus’s lips move harder against mine, his tongue sliding against my own in a dance that makes my clit throb. When our kiss finally breaks, his ravenous lips move over the curve of my cheek and along my jaw, collecting the water droplets that trail down my skin.

  I arch backward, trusting him to hold me up as I give him access to more of me. He takes everything I’m offering, scraping his teeth along the column of my neck before biting down on the flesh of my shoulder. The sudden bite of pain makes my nipples harden, my stomach clenching as I grind against him.

  He growls against my skin, lapping away water as his lips and teeth and tongue explore every inch of me they can reach. When he trails downward to my breasts, I lean back even more, and he splays one large hand between my shoulder blades to support me as his mouth closes over one nipple.

  “Fuck, angel,” he mutters, his voice muffled by my skin and the water cascading around us. “I can never get enough of you. I keep fucking trying, but it’s never enough.”

  There’s a hint of frustration in his voice, and I know his words are more than just talk. I feel the same frustration he does, the same urge to somehow defy the constraints of our physical bodies and meld ourselves into one.

  I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about Marcus, Theo, and Ryland.

  I didn’t know this kind of craving was even possible.

  And I’m beyond caring if it’s healthy or wise. I don’t give a shit if it’s insane. I fought this thing long enough, and now I’m done fighting.

  We’ve got bigger battles on the horizon anyway.

  Marcus moves his attention to my other nipple, rolling it between his teeth before biting down hard enough to sting, and my muscles tighten as a bolt of pleasure shoots straight down to my clit.

  “Fuck!”

  As a loud cry falls from my lips, he releases my nipple and laps the pain away, making my yell morph into a needy groan.

  Adjusting his grip on me, Marcus trails his lips lower. I straighten fully as he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands coming to rest on my hips. When his fingers delve between my legs, running through my folds before spreading my pussy lips wide, I bite down hard on my lower lip. My knees wobble a little, and I reach out to flatten my palm against the shower wall, steadying myself.

  It’s times like these when I really wish I still had two fucking hands. I need to hold on to the wall for balance, but I want so badly to run my fingers through Marcus’s wet hair too, to grab a fistful of the dark strands and drag his face closer to my pussy.

  Because it’s still several inches away. He hasn’t touched me with his tongue yet. Instead, he’s just staring at me, absorbing every detail of the most intimate part of my body like there’s going to be a test later. Like he wants to remember it for the rest of his damn life.

  The way he’s got me spread open leaves nothing to the imagination, and his touch is full of a familiar ownership that makes my heart beat harder.

  As if my pussy is his to touch any way he likes.

  As if all of me belongs to him.

  “Marcus…”

  My voice is low and hoarse. Water is dripping down the side of my face as I stare down at him, and I can feel the slickness of my arousal coating my pussy, a different kind of wetness entirely.

  For a second, his brown and blue irises flash up toward me, fierce satisfaction burning in their depths.

  He likes that I’m desperate.

  He fucking loves it.

  But at least he doesn’t make me wait long.

  The second his gaze drops down again, his head moves forward. Still keeping me spread wide for him like a fucking buffet, he runs his tongue all the way up my pussy before circling my clit in a slow, deliberate motion. My toes curl against the slick shower floor, my fingers clenching as I fight to keep my grip on the wall.

  Pleasure ripples out in heavy waves as Marcus continues to work over my clit, and when I start shifting restlessly, pressing against his mouth, he grabs my hips again, forcing me to stay still.

  The fingers of one hand dig into the flesh of my hip while the other slides around behind me. When I feel him delve between my ass cheeks, I let out a startled sound.

  It doesn’t stop him though. It doesn’t even slow him down. With the same possessive touch as always, he slides one finger inside the tight ring of my asshole. Heat flashes through me, a fresh wave of sensation joining the pleasure emanating from my clit.

  “Marcus. Fuck!”

  I repeat his name, unable to come up with anything more articulate as he slides his finger in deeper, fucking my ass with it at the same time he attacks my clit with his tongue. The steady sweep of his tongue combined with the foreign feeling of his finger in my ass makes my legs tremor.

  My heart is beating harder, and all thought of sore muscles is gone. The only thing I’m aware of, the only thing that exists right now, is Marcus.

  His touch.

  His tongue.

  His hot breath against my skin.

  When he wraps his lips around my clit and flicks the sensitive bud over and over again, the pleasure coiling inside me snaps. My head drops down as my whole body shakes, and despite my hand on the wall, I’m in real danger of collapsing.

  Of course, Marcus would never let that happen. The orgasm is still working its way through my body when he withdraws his finger and surges to his feet, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him as if I weigh next to nothing. My arm goes around his neck automatically, and I bury my face against his shoulder as I ride out the pleasure.

  “I love making you come, angel,” he murmurs, his deep voice dripping into my ear like honey. “I love your sounds. I love your taste. I love you.”

  He punctuates the last word by shifting his grip on me, lifting me up a little to line himself up b efore bringing me down hard on his cock. He fills me in one swift motion, bottoming out inside me and grinding my clit against him. My thighs squeeze his waist as he helps me rise up and sink back down again, finding a rhythm as I stroke his cock with my inner walls.

  We’re still standing beneath the spray, and the part of me that can think anything at all marvels at the fact that he’s still holding me up as if it’s nothing. He hasn’t even braced me against the shower wall.

  When his hand glides over the curve of my ass to slip between my cheeks again, I’m not surprised—but anticipation still makes my breath catch. He draws a small circle around the puckered hole, teasing me by slipping his finger inside just a little.

  I try to grind back against him, clenching around his cock as I silently urge him to go deeper with his finger. He just chuckles, still teasing me as he fucks me slowly.

  “You want more, angel?”

  “Yes,” I gasp, lifting my head up from the curve of his shoulder to meet his gaze. “Please.”

  His eyes burn with predatory heat, and I swear I can feel his cock thickening inside me. “How much more? Because if you let me have your ass, I’m going to take it. All of it.”

  I know what he means. He means more than one finger, or even two.

  My stomach clenches as a shot of adrenaline and arousal surges through me, and I nod, biting my lip. The air around us is thick with steam, and little water droplets cling to Marcus’s long eyelashes, making them look even thicker.

  “Take it,” I murmur. “Take anything you want.”

  His nostrils flare, and he moves so fast it almost makes me dizzy, lifting me off his cock and setting me on the floor. As soon as my feet touch the smooth tiles, he kisses me hard and deep. Then he pulls back and spins me around, bracing my hand on the wall again.