Their Virgin Mistress

by Shayla Black

  cry anymore. She would do it when she got to the palace. She would sit and hold her nephews and would find a way to purge the Thurston-Hughes brothers from her heart.

  “You bastard,” a familiar voice shouted from what sounded like her living room. Callum. What was he doing here?

  There was a muffled reply, followed by a crash.

  “Stop it, both of you.” Rory’s shout sounded loud and clear.

  Anger exploded like a bomb detonating. These men were forever fighting, and now they were using her as an excuse. Not that they needed one. Her body ached, but that was nothing compared to the pain she felt deep inside. It was good to put both aside and let the rage flow.

  Tori intended to make it very clear that she was done with them. Now and forever.

  * * * *

  Stunned, dazed, Oliver shuffled away from her bathroom door before he did something extremely stupid like kick it in, throw Tori over his shoulder, and take her home with him. He’d behaved badly. He accepted responsibility for that, just as he would take responsibility for the manipulative little thing, but he wouldn’t give her whatever she sought.

  He found his slacks and forced himself to step into them. What the fuck had happened? He could scarcely wrap his brain around the fact that she’d been a virgin. He should have suspected something when he first put his fingers inside her and felt the spectacularly tight grip of her cunt. He’d wondered if her fiancé had a tiny penis. Then the thought of James Fenway’s dick inside Tori incited particularly nasty thoughts, which had prodded him into thrusting hard and fast into her before sense prevailed and he could talk himself out of touching her. The need to make her his had overwhelmed him.

  Well, she was his now. His and only his. No other cock had ever enjoyed that tight pussy. Certainly no other cock had possibly gotten her pregnant. What the hell had he been thinking? He shoved his feet into his socks and searched the room for his shirt. He hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d been delighting in her sweetness, how soft and pliable she was for him. He’d been thinking about how Callum liked to tie women up and spank them and fuck them. He’d been considering that Tori would look delicious all wrapped in rope like a gift, waiting for him to unwrap and enjoy her.

  He shrugged into his shirt and wondered how the hell he should deal with this mess. A little sparkle on the floor caught his eye.

  Her ring. He leaned over and picked it up.

  Poor sap. Somewhere in Texas, a man waited for his perfect little virgin bride. That man was about to find out the world wasn’t fair.

  Oliver had taken her. She was his responsibility now. Perhaps he’d even marry her, but by god, he would watch her like a hawk. He wouldn’t allow her the tiniest bit of leeway that she might use against him.

  The one bright note? He could have the children he’d dreamed of. They wouldn’t erase the ones Yasmin had terminated, but maybe these new precious ones would ease some of the ache and guilt in his heart.

  He pocketed the ring. Her engagement—former in his mind—was just one of the matters they needed to discuss after she finished her sulk and exited the bathroom.

  You are the world’s biggest prick, Oliver Thurston-Hughes. Sulk? You took her virginity without being remotely gentle and gave her not an ounce of pleasure in return. She surrendered to you, and you screamed at her, accused her of all manner of perdition, and then have the gall to say that she’s sulking. You promised her kindness and the minute you were through you gave her bile and vitriol. You don’t deserve her.

  His inner voice often made too much sense for his well-being. He looked back at the bedroom door. He’d closed it because he wanted space between them. He’d told himself it was so he didn’t wrap his hands around her pretty throat, but that was a lie. He needed the doors closed so he didn’t walk back, fall to his knees, and beg her forgiveness.

  He couldn’t do that. No matter how poorly he’d handled the thing, he couldn’t give her that kind of power over him.

  Why not? You gave Yasmin the power to ruin your life for eternity. She wins, you stupid prat. If you let Tori walk out of your life, that bitch wins. You should have just allowed her to kill you.

  He really liked it better when he simply hated everything and everyone and wished he had died that day in the palace. But no. All of that had begun to change when Tori had walked though his door in her bright colors, smiling that sunny smile he knew so well.

  She’d made him start to want more.

  So return to her bedroom and start over. Knock on the door and beg her to talk to you because you really do care for her. Confess that you’ve handled everything horribly. Talk her back into bed and hold her, give her everything she deserves—kindness, intimacy, warmth. Do it.

  As much as he wanted it, Oliver found the prospect horrifying. If he followed that voice in his head, he would be so vulnerable to her. He wasn’t ready for that yet. He didn’t know if he ever would be.

  But he couldn’t walk away if she was pregnant. He wasn’t ready to leave his child defenseless again.

  He was stuck, but then he had been stuck since he’d learned the truth about Yasmin and had to face his negligent complicity. He simply hadn’t believed her capable of such evil. Now, he was stuck and he had no idea how to break free.

  He looked at the door between them and wished he’d met her when he’d been younger, when he believed in all that love shit, when he could possibly have given her what she needed.

  And he turned away because that ring of hers was burning a hole in his pocket.

  What was he thinking? The fact that she’d possessed a hymen didn’t make her innocent. She’d cheated on her fiancé twice in one night with two different brothers, and yet he stood outside her door mooning over her like an idiot.

  Perhaps he hadn’t learned as much as he’d thought he had from Yasmin.

  A knock on Tori’s front door drew him from his thoughts. Oliver glanced down at his watch. It was after midnight. Who would call on her at this hour? He crossed the space and opened the door, only to be confronted with the one person in the world he would have given half his life not to deal with tonight.

  “Callum, go home,” he ordered wearily.

  “What are you doing here?” Callum glared, somewhere between shock and anger.

  Rory put a hand on Callum’s arm. “I think we should go, Cal.”

  Oliver winced. Now he could see what a massive mistake this whole evening had been. He should never have followed Tori at the fundraiser, never gone looking for her in the first place. Then she wouldn’t have fled. Callum could have been the one to find himself in the trap. No doubt his younger brother would have been thrilled. Now he had to face the fact that he’d taken not only what should have been her fiancé’s prize, but he’d also fucked his brother’s crush.

  “Tori left early and I escorted her home.”

  “And then you took your clothes off?” Callum accused, scowling at his unbuttoned shirt. He pushed his way into the room, and his gaze dropped immediately to the floor. He bent and picked up the designer gown Tori had been wearing earlier. “And hers.”

  Oliver’s gut knotted. He’d hoped Tori was simply another in his younger brother’s long line of flirtations, but the devastated look on his brother’s face said that Callum fancied himself in love with her.

  Apparently, he’d started a shit storm.

  “Callum, I can explain.”

  “Where’s Tori?” Rory asked. “Tell me she’s not asleep and that you weren’t trying to sneak out of her bed.”

  He hadn’t had the opportunity to sneak out. Not that he’d wanted to. He’d planned on talking to her in the morning about setting her up as his mistress. If she turned up pregnant, he would make her his wife. Now he could see plainly how that plan would go over with his brothers. Callum wasn’t the only one who thought he was in love. Rory did, too, and Oliver could see he was going to be the villain in this piece. “I think we should all sit down and talk this out. I made a mistake tonight. Unfortunately, it�

�s not one I can take back.”

  He might have tied himself to Tori. He might even be able to keep her, but if he did, he stood a good chance of losing his brothers.

  Rory’s face had flushed a vibrant red. “Tell me you were gentle with her. She’s not experienced.”

  “How did you know that?” Now he could feel his own fury building. “Callum wasn’t the only one who got caught with his hands in the honey pot?”

  “Don’t talk about her like that,” Callum said through clenched teeth.

  He didn’t like the possessive tone in his brother’s voice. Callum needed to understand what had transpired tonight and what would happen tomorrow because of it. Oliver had made his bed with his impatient dick. Now they would all have to lie in it. “I’ll talk about her any way I like. I took her virginity, so she’s my responsibility now. You two will keep your hands off her.”

  “You can’t treat her like she’s property, Oliver,” Rory shot back, grinding his teeth.

  “I can and I will. If she turns up pregnant, I’ll be forced to marry her and she’ll be your sister-in-law. That episode in the conference room will be the last such incident I’ll abide.”

  “Pregnant? You might have gotten her pregnant?” Rory breathed the words like they were some sort of secret that could kill them all. “Don’t you carry condoms?”

  Of all the things he was ashamed of, this ranked among the highest. “I imagined she was on the pill.”

  He couldn’t tell his brothers that while he’d been in her arms he hadn’t thought about anything except her. Nothing else had existed except her arms around him, her body against his. He hadn’t been smart enough to don a condom.

  “You bastard!” Callum shouted and ran for him, a threatening fist cocked.

  Oliver took a punch hard to the jaw that almost had him seeing stars. Pain exploded through his head. He fell to the ground before he knew it.

  Callum pounced on top of him and reared back again, fist at the ready. “You ruined everything.”

  “Stop it, you two.” Rory tried to shove his way between them.

  Across the room, he heard a loud crash. “Out!”

  Tori stood stiffly, the remnants of tears streaking her face as she shouted at him. Could this bloody night get any worse?

  Callum rolled off him, perched on his knees. “Tori, love, we need to talk. I don’t care what you did with him. It was his fault. He tricked you.”

  “I didn’t trick her.” Rubbing at the ache in his jaw, he got to his feet and was stunned by the utterly delicious sight of Tori standing in her living room, holding an umbrella like a damn female warrior. Her eyes were lit with fire and her robe gaped open the slightest bit, exposing creamy skin. Despite everything, his dick flared to life again at the sight of her.

  “Get out.” She stood her ground, her stare falling on each of them as if assessing her enemies.

  “Tori, I agree my brothers need to leave, but you and I have to talk.” It was time to tone down the emotion and get reasonable. Oliver knew he’d been a bastard to her. No matter what she’d done, she deserved to have her first sexual experience be more memorable than a couple of thrusts, followed by her lover railing at her because she’d been a virgin. He’d made a hack of the whole thing. Once Callum and Rory were gone, he would talk to her, apologize, make it up to her.

  “I meant you, too. Get out of my apartment.”

  If he left her now, he doubted he would be allowed back in. “Don’t you think we should talk about this here, rather than at the office?”

  “I quit. Get out. All of you.”

  “Love, I don’t know what he did but I’ll fix it. I’ll make you happy,” Callum vowed.

  “You can’t quit,” Rory said. “We’ve already talked about this.”

  “Bill me, assholes. Now, out. All of you,” Tori insisted, her voice firm.

  The situation was spinning out of control. If only his brothers hadn’t shown up, he might have been able to salvage it. “Both of you leave now.”

  “All of you,” Tori snarled. “This is my last warning.”

  Like soft little Tori was really going to hurt anyone. Oliver shook his head and stepped toward her. “I’m not leaving, darl—”

  Before he could finish speaking, she whapped him with the umbrella. Suddenly, he was stumbling across her flat and trying to find his footing. The pain wasn’t bad, but Oliver found himself scrambling to get out of her way. He stumbled toward the door, and his brothers followed suit as Tori bore down on them, weapon in hand.

  She swung a few times, her eyes wild, and backed them into the hallway before any of them thought to fight back against the petite brunette whom they each outweighed by four stones of muscle.

  “Stay out. And don’t contact me again.” She slammed the door in their faces, and Oliver heard the distinct sound of the deadbolt sliding home.

  He blinked, stunned that he was stuck in the hallway in the middle of the night without his shoes. He rather believed that if he knocked and asked for them, she might try to shove them up his arse. He was staring at the door when one of his brothers grabbed his arm and whirled him around.

  “I’ll kill you for this.” Callum’s eyes had gone so cold.

  Rory stepped between them. “That won’t fix the situation. You’re both idiots. I’m going down to Cal’s. He’s already moved in three doors down. I’m going to get into his Scotch and figure a way out of this mess. If you two kill each other, all the better for me. I’ll take the company and Tori for myself. I’m the only one of us who hasn’t fucked her over. You’re both pathetic. Talib was right. We don’t deserve her.”

  He turned and walked away without looking back.

  Oliver felt more vulnerable than ever. Even as he’d lain on the floor of Bezakistan’s royal palace after Yasmin had done her best to kill him, he hadn’t felt this wretched. Tonight, he’d ruined something good, something pure.

  Callum jerked away, snarling in his face. “You hurt her.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” He really hadn’t. He’d meant to…god, he didn’t even know what he’d meant to do at this point. “I didn’t like the fact that she seduced you while she has a fiancé.”

  “You haven’t figured it out yet? She doesn’t have a bloody fiancé. She made it up to keep men like us away. She’s alone and you’ve made sure she’ll stay that way. And don’t you dare try to say that what you did to her tonight had anything to do with me. I hate you.”

  Oliver watched his brother walk away, slamming the door behind him.

  As he followed his brother down the hall, he kind of hated himself, too.

  * * * *

  Callum thought seriously about murdering his brother. He knew how he would do it. He would wrap his fingers around Oliver’s throat and squeeze until his head popped off. Then he would kick the thing around like a football.

  As Rory loitered by the door, Callum shoved his key in the lock, bitterly aware of the fact that he was now three doors away from the woman of his dreams and she wouldn’t speak to him. He thought about closing the door and locking them all out, but Rory shoved his way in.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No thanks to him.” Callum pointed a thumb at Oliver.

  His oldest brother shuffled inside, looking a bit stunned. “She really doesn’t have a fiancé?”

  Callum shut and locked the door. Thea had been waiting for him outside the hotel. She’d managed to sneak into the car park and had been lying in wait for him. All in all, it had been a fairly terrible night.

  With the singular exception of watching Tori Glen come apart in his arms.

  She’d been so beautiful, so unselfconscious. She hadn’t been pretending. Her eyes had gone wide with wonder as he’d stroked her and sent her over the edge. She’d been a woman finding her sensuality.

  “No, she doesn’t. The investigator’s report is on the bar if you don’t believe me.” He crossed to the utilitarian kitchen and grabbed the fifty-year he kept for special occasions or days when the world seemed coated in dung. It had been both today, so he poured three fingers. And then a second glass because Rory hadn’t -->