Thursday morning. I wake between my two big twins. It’s a good thing this bed is so big, because my boys are huge. I’m pinned between the two of them and they each have an arm around my waist. I’m trapped and held possessively…and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I feel safe between them. This is my happy spot.
Ezekiel mumbles something under his breath and I glance over at him. I wince as there’s slight discomfort in my neck. It’s still a bit sore from the double-marking, but I don’t regret one second of it. My bite is clear as day on Ez’s neck. I was admiring their marks all of yesterday and apparently, I’ll be doing the same today.
I lift my hand and brush back the inky-black strands of his hair. He stirs slowly, blinking open his eyes. His corn-yellow irises shine back at me and he smiles.
“Morning, kitten,” he mumbles, pulling me closer to his body.
I snuggle into his touch, jumping when Emmanuel cosies up behind me.
“Morning,” I whisper to them both.
None of us makes any move to get out of bed for the next ten minutes. We lay there and snooze in each other’s arms.
Eventually, Ezekiel encourages us to get up. I don’t have a lecture until 2PM this afternoon, but the twins have one at 10AM with their other class.
“I’m thinking of visiting my grandmother’s grave this morning,” I tell them both after I’ve cleaned my teeth.
I have my hair up in a bun and I’m washing my face with a wet flannel. Ezekiel and Emmanuel are on either side of me, brushing their teeth. They both frown in unison. Emmanuel spits out the toothpaste first and turns to me, white foam around his mouth.
“We won’t be able to take you, kitten,” he says. “We have a lecture.”
I shrug at him. “I know. I’ll take the bus.”
Ezekiel frowns. “I’m not sure. What if it isn’t safe?”
I burst out laughing and the two of them narrow their eyes at me.
“What isn’t safe about a bus? I’ll be fine, guys. Besides, you’ve marked me, now. Every shifter will back off.”
I finish washing my face, letting the two of them stew and mull over the idea. I’m going to that damn cemetery. They can’t stop me.
“Fine, kitten,” Emmanuel says as he follows me out of the bathroom. “You can go, but you must have your phone on so that we can track your location and please, text us when you get there, when you leave and when you get back on campus.”
I roll my eyes but keep my back to them, so that they can’t see.
“You’re standing near a mirror, Rosemary,” Ezekiel reprimands me firmly. “We saw that eye-roll.”
I look sideways and spot the vanity mirror. Oops. I spin around and give them a sheepish grin.
“Okay, I agree to all of your rules!” I say hurriedly, backing up into the walk-in closet as they prowl towards me.
The twins back me into the wardrobe and then step inside. It’s a tight fit, the three of us. Ezekiel grasps my hips and presses me against the wall. He leans down and latches his mouth over his mark. Emmanuel smirks and bends down to do the same with his mark.
The two of them lick and lave their marks. My body’s reaction is instantaneous. My nipples harden and press against my t-shirt, my fresh thong for today becomes wet, my breathing becomes ragged.
“Please,” I whimper.
My hands reach up to bury themselves in their hair. I grip hold of Emmanuel’s silver locks, trying to get him to bite down like his twin is doing.
All of a sudden, both of them bite down hard enough to break skin. They re-mark me and the pleasure that wracks through my body is incomprehensible. My body convulses under their hands, my hips bucking forwards to grind against nothing but air.
A loud moan escapes me as the pleasurable waves of an orgasm ripple throughout my entire body. It takes a minute for my breathing to even out and my vision to become focussed again.
Both of my twins pull back, satisfied grins on their faces. I reach for them, ready to re-mark them and give them the same treatment; coming whilst fully-clothed, but they step away, out of reach.
“Nu-uh, little kitten,” Emmanuel teases. “I need to get dressed for work.”
Ezekiel winks. “You might want to change your underwear again, Rose.”
The two of them begin calmly picking out their clothes for the day, ignoring the raging hard-ons that are pointing in their boxers.
I sigh and hook my thumbs around my thong. I pull it down, grimacing when a string of wetness is attached from my lower lips to my underwear. I grab a fresh pair and pop back into the bathroom to clean myself up.
Damn horny mates.
Arrived at the cemetery without dying. Rose xoxo
I send the text as I walk through the open, wrought-iron gates of the cemetery. It’s a cold, Thursday morning, there are barely any people around. I walk down the path, towards where my grandmother was laid to rest. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to read the text.
No jokes about dying, kitten. We miss you already. Hurry back to us.
I smile at the text from Ezekiel. Emmanuel’s comes through a second later. The three of us have a group chat.
Lectures are boring without you in them. I need my beautiful Malay girl ogling me from the back row.
I smirk at his text and type a reply.
I’m sure there are plenty of students willing to step in and fill the ogling position.
His response, almost instant, makes me laugh.
Obviously, there are. I’m being eye-fucked so aggressively from a girl on the front row, I feel assaulted. Come back and save me, kitten.
Oh, wait, it’s just an eye-twitch. All good.
Still come back though.
I reach the turning for the pathway to her grave and send a final text to Emmanuel.
You should be concentrating on your lecture, Professor. Put your phone away and someone might actually learn something in your class.
I’m about to lock my phone when his reply comes through.
Naughty kitten. I hope you like orgasming before a lecture, because I’m marking you again at 13:55, right before we start. Good luck sitting in wet panties through Homer’s Odyssey.
I finally put my phone away and take a seat on the bench opposite my grandmother’s grave. Her headstone is shiny and polished, brand new.
“Hi, Grandmother,” I greet her softly.
I spend about ten minutes with her, updating her on everything that has happened -well, not everything.
When I’m done, I say a silent prayer to God to look after her up there. I walk back to the gates and wait at the bus stop.
I send the text to the boys and then another to Oya, asking her to meet me on campus at 11. I want to go for coffee. I can tell her about my marking and she can update me on her mate.
The bus arrives quickly and I get on, sitting amongst the humans, oblivious to our kind. There’s only five stops before we’re at campus. I get off and send another text to my mates.
Back on campus, you can relax now.
“Rosemary Moore?” A male voice calls my name.
I turn away from the entrance and glance around. A blond man, about my age, is stood on the pavement.
He smiles tightly. “You’re Rosemary, right?”
My brows furrow, but I smile politely. “Sorry, do I know you?”
“No, you don’t. I know your mates, Emmanuel and Ezekiel. Please, allow me to introduce myself,” he replies and holds out his gloved hand to me. “I’m Brock Turner.”
I smile and shake his hand. “Rosemary.”
“Do you mind if we have a chat? There’s something that I’d like to tell you about your mates,” he says cryptically.
I frown and take a step back, suddenly getting weird vibes from him.
“Um, okay. But can we go onto campus? My mates are expecting me.”
Brock’s expression changes, becoming cold and angry. He lunges towards me and I wince as something sharp is pressed into my side.
“Don’t move,” he threatens calmly. “If you scream, I’ll cut your throat before anyone can stop me.”
My entire body freezes in panic. I glance around, but everyone is hurriedly making their way to lectures. They have their headphones in, hoods pulled up and hats on.
No one pays any attention to the two of us on the pavement. I want to fight and scream, but my mind has gone into panic mode and I can’t process it all quickly enough.
“I don’t want to kill you, Rosemary, so be good and keep quiet. We’re going to walk over to my car, it’s just around the corner.”
He starts to pull me along, but my feet refuse to move. He presses the knife harder into my side. It pierces a hole in my coat and I feel the pointed edge through the weave of my jumper.
Wincing, I start walking with him. I subtly slide my hand into my pocket and grab my phone. I press my thumb against the fingerprint ID and unlock it.
“I’ll take that,” Brock snaps.
He holds out his hand for my phone and I reluctantly hand it to him. We’ve reached the corner of the street. I desperately look around, hoping to catch sight of anyone.
Maybe I could show them that I’m in distress from my face. But there’s no one. It’s a cold day, no one is around. He leads me over to a white van.
“Face the door and don’t move,” he growls.
I do as he says, tears filling my eyes. My hands are shaking with fear and I pray to God to protect me.
There’s a sharp pinch in my neck, making me jump. Brock holds the knife to my throat, stopping me from moving. I realise that he is injecting me with something. He removes the needle and the knife. He grabs my upper arm and drags me around to the passenger side of the van.
I can barely hold my weight up. I fall against the side of the van, feeling the effects of a sedative take hold. Once he opens the door, he lifts me up and places me in the seat. My head lolls to one side and my vision turns blurry. The last thing I process is him buckling me in as I pass out.