Strings: A Dark Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Finding Their Muse Book 3)

by Bea Paige

  “Ah,” he grins. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need to give you a penny to figure out what thoughts have been filling your head.”

  “Hmm,” I mumble, not willing to engage in this conversation now that Erik is listening with interest.

  “What thoughts are those then, Rose?”

  “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” I respond lightly, concentrating on stretching out my aching muscles and hiding my embarrassment.

  He pads towards me, the smell of his shower gel filling my nose with heady scents of apple and cherry blossom. I stop stretching, attempting to get around him and back to the relative safety of my bed, when he suddenly traps me against the glass between his arms.

  “Erik, what are you doing?” I ask him.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he asks me.

  “Not sure I understand what you mean?” I retort, my core clenching and my heart rate spiking. I’m pretty certain my body knows exactly what’s happening even as I try to deny it.

  Behind me, Anton chuckles. “Erik, looks like you’ve caught our Rose off guard.”

  “Our Rose?” I mutter, trying and failing not to look him in the eyes.

  Erik leans in close, his peppermint breath whispering against my lips. “You’re already theirs and now you’re mine,” he says with a smile that stirs my heart into a flock of hapless butterflies all desperately trying to break out of my chest.

  “You’ve avoided me for two days, Erik,” I respond, unable to hide the disappointment at his absence.

  “Pretty sure I can’t avoid you in such a confined space, Rose.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You’ve not…”

  “Not what, Rose?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Erik grips my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Yes, you do. Tell me,” he insists, his fingers now caressing my throat. Jesus H Christ, the intensity with which he stares at me is off the Richter scale. If my body was the Earth, I’d be crumbling under the tremors his stare elicits.

  “You’ve not tried to touch me in over a week…” Shit, here I go, bleeding my vulnerability all over his white cotton t-shirt.

  “I’m touching you now. You’re shaking, Rose. Why?”

  “You know what I mean.” I respond ignoring his question.

  “Do I? Why don’t you spell it out to me?”

  “It’s not enough,” I say before I can stop myself.

  “What isn’t?”

  “This,” I say, my hand flicking between us. I want him. I want him so bad I can barely breathe.

  “Okay then, tell me what you need from me.” His gaze flickers from my eyes to my mouth as he steps closer, pressing his hips against my own. His cock is hard, the thin material of my leggings and his tracksuit bottoms the only barrier between us.

  “I need you to fuck me,” I whimper as he grinds against me, the thick length of his cock pressing against my heated mound.

  “But you understand that I need more than just a mindless fuck, Rose,” he says, pulling away and stepping back. Cold air slips between us, marking his absence but doing nothing to cool my skin and the heat the pervades my whole body from the inside out.

  “It wasn’t mindless before…” It was raw and powerful, exhilarating, beautiful, but it wasn’t mindless. “It wasn’t,” I repeat, a little hurt if I’m honest.

  “I used you to purge my past. That wasn’t what I intended.” He takes another step away from me, his brows drawing together.

  “Wait,” I respond, hating how needy I sound. “Why is it so wrong to want you that way?”

  “It’s not wrong, but it is dangerous, Rose. When we come together again, I don’t want you to be in danger. I want a connection that is powerful enough to stop the monster within me from destroying you… I need control when you submit. You need to be able to trust me not to, otherwise it will never work. I won’t put you in danger, Rose.”

  “We have a strong connection. Please tell me you feel that.” I move towards him, my hand fluttering to my chest, right over my heart. My hand trembles as I fight myself to keep it there. For the first time in years I show vulnerability. “I do trust you, Erik. I trust you,” I repeat, hoping he hears the sincerity in my voice.

  “I want to believe you, Rose. I want to believe that this thing between us is something that runs deeper than mindless fucking, lust, attraction. Christ knows I want to fuck you. No, that isn’t right. I want to make love to you. I’ve barely thought of anything else. But like I said before, what we want isn’t always what we need. Do you know what I really need right now?”

  “What, Erik?”

  “I need to see if I can control the monster within. I need to play my violin, Rose. I need to see if you can survive it, if we can survive it. I need to make sure our connection is strong enough. I need to know you can truly let go. Then, and only then can I trust myself with you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying it’s time.”

  Chapter 31

  Erik – Present Day

  Her mouth drops open, her face pales. She understands what I need and fear slashes across her face. I don’t give her the time to think too much about it, to find a reason to convince me this isn’t good for either of us.

  It’s now or never.

  I need this to be over, one way or another. Either we walk out of here together or remain imprisoned forever. I know what we must do, I’m hoping Rose does too.

  She opens her mouth to protest then slams it shut when I grab her, lifting her up. Her legs and arms wrap around me automatically as I slam her into the glass wall. Breath releases from her mouth as her fingers dig into my shoulders.

  “We’re not doing this alone,” I say to her, drawing on her ragged breaths like it’s oxygen. I soak up her fear of heartbreak, drawing out her hope for more than a life lived without love. I see it in her eyes, within the wreckage of her heart.

  It makes me feel strong, fearless.

  Because there’s a chance, with her there’s a chance to live again.

  Glancing over her shoulder I look at Anton. “Get, Ivan. Now!” I demand.

  He needs to be here when this happens, he needs to be here when she finally breaks. She’ll need him too. Anton nods his head, taps on his phone and lifts it to his ear. I don’t bother to listen to his conversation, my attention returns to Rose.

  “I’m going to become the monster, Rose, will you be my saviour? Can you save me?”

  “Yes,” she responds, no longer hesitating. No longer denying those feelings that have been chipping away at the stone around her heart. This past week she’s watched me when she thought I was unaware. She’s been thoughtful, a little withdrawn, honestly, but still here with me. That means everything, but it’s time now to break free from this place, to take the first step into the world beyond these walls.

  “I’ll be who you need me to be.”

  “But you have to do this for yourself too. This isn’t just about me, Rose.”

  “I know that. I want to try,” she says, that strength I recognise returning.

  We’ve known each other for so little time, and yet I know what my brothers do. I’ve known it all along, Rose is the one person who has the ability to heal us, to save us from ourselves. She’s the heroine of this story.

  “This is going to hurt. This is going to be messy, for the both of us. Can you do this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you certain?” I press, needing to know she’s sure.

  “I want to do this. I want you. I want you all…” she says with a surety that’s beguiling.

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. We’re going to face this together. All of us,” I respond, then crash my lips against hers.

  This kiss is filled with a promise of better things. Of healing, passion, friendship… maybe someday even love. It’s filled with hope. Hope for a life lived beyond these walls. Hope for a future not buried in the past. I never thought I’d feel that kind of hope again. />
  Rose moans into my mouth as our tongues slide against each other. She arouses such lust in me, the kind that makes a boy into a man. Everyone before pales into comparison. This woman is everything I need, with all her broken parts stitched together with blood and tears, an elaborate embroidery threaded together by a life lived at the mercy of others. One by one, those threads have been severed revealing the truth of Rose, her heart. It bleeds, how it fucking bleeds but then my heart bleeds too. She’s begun to sever the strings holding me hostage and in turn I’ve done the same for her. Together, we can make a new path.

  My cock thickens as my hands grab her arse and I grind into her. It’s just as well I’m still clothed otherwise this could have gone very differently.

  When I fucked her before, it wasn’t really me, it wasn’t the man I want to be. Rose had let me use her in order to claim my fucking masculinity back, and I did. It’s here now, thick and wanting, ready to give as much as take.

  But first the monster. Nothing can happen until that part of me is under control.

  Anton raps his knuckles on the glass, forcing us to part. Beside him, Ivan stands, a little confused and a hell of a lot concerned. But his role is as crucial as mine, as Anton’s. I need him here. Rose needs him. He’ll have her back when I might lose my mind and Anton… Anton will document this moment, so we never forget.

  Between us we will make a new beginning, one that’s worth all the fucked up shit we’ve had to deal with in our pasts.

  Lowering Rose, I place her on her feet and step back.

  “Your wrists, Rose,” I say, bending down and grabbing the discarded rope.

  She holds them out to me without hesitation, and I bind them firmly. Pulling it taut we walk towards the bed. Together.

  “When I play, my past will return. It’s an inevitability I cannot deny. Having you tied up helps me to see you differently. One day I want to make love to you without fear of really hurting you, but we both know that despite what we’re willing to do for one another, that time isn’t now. I’m not there yet, but I promise you, this is another step towards that point.”

  “I understand,” she responds, a gentle smile lifting her pretty mouth.

  Her lips are swollen, kissable. I’m so fucking tempted to take her now that I must force myself to step away from her. Purge the monster first, arsehole.

  She lays down, allowing me to tie her bound wrists to the bed.

  “I’m going to open the door now,” I explain, surprising both Ivan and Anton, but not her, not Rose. She understands. “Anton, bring your art equipment.”

  He nods, bending down to fetch his pad and pencils. He doesn’t ask me why he needs them or what I have planned, he just does it.

  Picking up the remote, I press the button and the door swings open. Ivan is the first to enter. I know how much he needs to go to Rose, but he doesn’t. He understands that this is about us, that his time will come later and I’m grateful for his self-control.

  “What do you need, Erik?” Ivan asks whilst Anton follows him in the room.

  I hold up the control pressing the button to close the door. It slides shut, the four of us enclosed together.

  “I’m going to play the violin. I’m going to purge the monster, and Rose is going to help me…”

  “Erik, fuck. Is this wise?” Ivan says, his dark brows pulling together over his troubled eyes. His gaze flicks to Rose and a muscle ticks in his jaw.

  “I want to live again, Ivan. Rose can help me, but I need you here too. We need you.”

  “And me? This?” Anton asks, holding out his sketchpad.

  “You’re the most talented artist I know, Anton. Capture the darkness, use it to make something beautiful. I don’t want it anymore.”

  Anton nods, understanding dawning, then without saying a word, he places his sketchpad and pencils on the armchair, strides over and pulls me into a hug. When he steps back there is pure determination in his gaze.

  “You can do this,” he says, then turns on his feet and returns to the armchair taking a seat, sketchpad and pencil in hand, looking at Rose for a long time. She turns her head to the side meeting his steady gaze, not looking away, studying him as much as he studies her. I know it kills him not to go to her, but he too gets how important this is, though it doesn’t stop him from telling her how he feels.

  “This is green, this is where Erik starts over, where you start over. If I can find a life in the darkness you sure as hell can find it in glorious multicolour, Rose. Let it all go. We’re here for you as much as we’re here for Erik, understand?”

  “I do,” she says quietly.

  A look of friendship, respect, something deeper, passes between them before she drags her gaze away from Anton and regards Ivan. The second her gaze meets his, Ivan drops to his knees and lowers his head, his hands clasped before him as he waits.

  “Please, Ivan. Look at me, say what you need to say,” she responds gently.

  He looks up at her, words forming eventually.

  “I’ve fucked many women, Rose, but I’ve only ever loved two. Luka loved Svetlana, he abused that love and ruined two people in the process. Ivan, the man I am now, he loves you. I love you. I won’t ever betray you like Luka betrayed her. This is it for me, for us. When this is over, you’re coming to live with us. We’re going to start a life together and it’s going to be beautiful, Rose…”

  Rose doesn’t respond, the emotion in her eyes is enough for Ivan, for Anton, for me to see, really see. She’s stopped running. Rose is ready to face her demons, just like I am.

  Ivan stands and walks over to where my violin and bow are resting on the stand. He lifts them both up, passing them to me.

  “Rose isn’t that woman who hurt you. Remember that when the rage comes. Remember that, brother,” he says.

  “And if I don’t, you’ll remind me, yes?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  I place the violin beneath my chin and rest the bow on the strings.

  “Don’t let me hurt Rose.”

  “I won’t.” He squeezes my arm, then steps back.

  Pressing my eyes shut, I place my shaking fingers over the strings as the bow slides downwards. The first note lifts into the air and just for a moment I can breathe freely, and then… then I disappear, and the monster emerges.

  Chapter 32

  Rose – Present Day

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful, or more deadly.

  Erik’s talent is otherworldly. He isn’t just brilliant, he’s utterly mesmerising, which makes it all the more difficult to watch as I see the change overtake him. It’s as though every note draws out the monster so it’s no longer inside him, but is him. It curves his shoulders and darkens his eyes from amber to burnt rust. Like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, he’s two separate people. What I witnessed before wasn’t the true depths of the monster.

  This, this is the man with the power to kill.

  I watch as his face contorts in pain, then rage, followed by a strange kind of ecstasy, making him look beautifully unhinged. Sweat trickles down his forehead as his fingers move like lightning, the bow dashing over the strings. The muscles in his arms bunch and flex under the force of his playing, his upper body moving in time with the music whilst his feet are planted firmly, keeping him upright. A few strings on his bow snap, but still he plays with a kind of fire that is enough to burn us all up and turn us into ash.

  Every single part of me hums with the music, with the danger, with the feeling of... I don’t know, everything. I feel the passion and the anger, the rage. It bursts from his fingers into the violin and the surrounding air like thousands of tiny sparks. I know if I get too close those sparks will hurt, they will sizzle my skin and dissolve into my blood and bones.

  There’s so much feeling. It crashes against me, and I gasp for air. Gulping it down as I watch Erik fall apart. I can’t take my eyes off him even to look at Ivan and Anton, but I know they are just as enthralled as I am.

  Something extra
ordinary is happening here.

  Erik is purging himself. He plays with a fever so bright, so powerful that it’s like looking directly at the sun. It’s almost blinding in its intensity. I feel the notes hum inside my head as though they’re a part of me as much as they’re a part of the man, the monster, that plays them now. I wonder if this is how he played for Ms Hadley, for Viktor, or if this kind of magic has been born from an experience that changed him fundamentally.

  With his eyes shut, Erik loses himself to the melody, to the emotions and memories this piece draws forth. I’ve heard classical music before, but how Erik plays goes beyond anything I imagined it would be. If a soul had a sound, it could be this.

  Every single note comes at a price, stripping him bare, open. Not only is he purging the monster, he’s also baring his soul. He’s brave, fucking beautiful in all his brokenness. I’m both in awe of him, his talent, and utterly terrified of how he makes me feel. I have the urge to soothe him. To soothe this man who’s battered and bruised by his past. I want to take his pain away. I want him to take mine.

  I’m ready to be free of it.

  “Erik,” I cry out, unable to help myself.

  My breath comes in short, sharp gasps as Erik’s gaze snaps to mine. He looks at me as though seeing me for the first time.

  There’s a moment when time stands perfectly still, and my heart literally stops. I’m aware the next beat is a millisecond away, but in that moment it’s as though my heart has given out for good, and I don’t welcome it. I don’t want it to stop beating.

  When he takes a step towards me, I draw in a stuttered breath, my body quakes with fear, with lust, desire, passion. I’m so keyed up that I have to press my thighs together to try and deal with the throbbing between my legs. God, I’m so wet for him.

  I’ve never felt more turned on, more alive than right this second.