Chapter 95

Ollie’s POV

Another hour later, I step out into the hallway where one of Conrad’s gray college t-shirts. It’s big on me, covering down to mid-thigh, hopefully hiding that I’m not wearing any panties.

Behind me Conrad laughs. “You know,” he calls after me. “You are welcome to stay all vacation in my room.”

I drown him out by closing the door.

That brute knew what he was doing in destroying my clothes. He very likely wants me to parade around in his t-shirt, smelling of him.

I could only hope the brothers aren’t the jealous sort, but I already know that’s a fool’s hope.

The quadruplets are as jealous and possessive as they come.

Also, I realize as I face the hallway once again, I have no idea which of these doors leads to my bedroom.

Conrad likely knew that too. He probably wants me to walk around in his t-shirt, asking for directions, to show everyone who I belong too.

Well, there’s not much I can do about it, so I press forward. Maybe Conrad wants to embarrass me, but honestly, do I have much room for shame anymore?

The servants have to know that I’m basically here on a sex-cation with all of the four brothers.

With a thing like that hanging over me, all other embarrassments seem minor in comparison.

Maybe, what I can do, to save myself some humiliation, is just listen carefully at each door. It’s been a couple hours now, so my luggage must be in my assigned room. If I listen carefully and don’t hear anything, then the room is probably empty, with my bags inside.

Simple logic! I could get out of this with my dignity intact! Somewhat. Mostly.

At least, that’s my hope… right up until I hear someone coming up the stairs.

There’s nowhere to really hide, not unless I want to dart into a random room or duck back into Conrad’s.

Though, wait. Maybe this is just what I want. If it’s a servant coming up the stairs, then they can guide me to my room and it will be fine. Slightly embarrassing but fine.

Only, when the person reaches the top of the stairs, stepping out into the hallway, my hopes clatter down onto the floor.

Hugh stills as he sees me, his eyes falling quickly from my face down to Conrad’s t-shirt.

“What’s all this?” he says, and though he smirks, there’s an edge to it. He’s not at all happy about what he’s seeing here. I don’t need to read his mind to know that.

“Conrad… uh…” I clear my throat, blushing too hard to continue in that way. “My clothes were damaged. Do you know which room is mine?”

“Your clothes just magically damaged themselves, huh?” Hugh asks. He’s walking again, moving closer to me. When he gets near enough, he lifts one hand up to the side of my neck. Gently, he tugs at the collar of the t-shirt, likely revealing the slew of lovemarks Conrad left there.

“I knew he was sloppy, but this is embarrassing,” Hugh says and clucks his tongue.

I lean away, and his fingers fall away from the collar of the shirt, allowing it to cover the marks once more.

“Although, I suppose he’s not as out of control as I thought, if he kept all of the marks under your shirt where they can’t be scene,” Hugh says, considering. “His loss, my gain.”

Hugh drops his hands to my waist and drags me closer.

“Hugh?”

“Shh,” Hugh says. “We’re supposed to share, aren’t we? All I’m doing is sharing.”

He brings his face closer to mine. My breath catches as I think he might kiss me, but at the last moment, he instead drops his face down to the side of my neck. There, just below the chin, he presses his lips to my mouth, creating a seal, and suck.

Gasping, I grab at his shoulders for support. My legs are starting to feel weak.

With a pop, he pulls away from my neck, then he licks over the mark he made, soothing it with his warm, wet tongue.

After that, he leans back, admiring his work. “Perfect,” he says, grinning to himself more than to me, though that grin doesn’t change as he shifts his attention.

His eyes darken then. “Conrad thinks he can claim you, but you belong to all of us, little fox. Do not get that confused.”

“I-I won’t,” I say, somewhat overwhelmed.

He lifts his hand to cup my cheek. Instinctively, I lean into the warmth of his hand.

He hums, then steps back, removing his hand and the heat of his body.

“Good luck finding your room. Just don’t let Declan see you in that shirt. He won’t be as nice about things as I am.”

“You won’t tell me which room is mine?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Mischief sparks in his eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?” he asks. Then, somewhat joyfully, he steps by me and disappears into one of the rooms in the hall.

At least I know that particular room isn’t likely to be mine, then. Unless Hugh is messing with me. More than likely though, he just wants me to follow him into his room so he can have his way with me.

I’m almost tempted…

No. Focus, Ollie. Finding your room right now is the most important thing.

With my determination restored, I returned to my original plan. I would listen at the doors, and if I heard nothing within, I would trust that the room is mine and open the door. At the very least, it should be empty. I could do this until I find my luggage.

Slowly, carefully, I move to the nearest door. Leaning, I press my ear up against the wood and listen. I even close my eyes to more fully concentrate.

As carefully as I’m listening, I don’t hear a sound.

An empty room then! Let’s see if it’s mine.

Grabbing the door handle I turn it. Unlocked! Another good sign.

Pushing it open, I expect to be greeted by an empty room.

Instead, I see Declan.

He’s standing in the center of the room, shirtless, his shirt in his hands like he was in the middle of changing.

Gods, I didn’t consider that Declan moves so silently. Of course I wouldn’t hear him in his room.

Mortified, I start to back out of the room again.

“Wrong door!” I say quickly, my cheeks feeling hot again. “Sorry!”

I’m almost out, with the door almost closed, when I hear Conrad’s cold voice.

“Wait.”

Immediately, I freeze.

“Get back in here,” Declan says.

Swallowing thickly, I find myself obeying his commands. After all, don’t they usually lead to my pleasure? And I don’t want to make him even madder than he is.

Opening the door again, I step inside.

“Close the door and come closer,” he says.

As I do what he asks, he tosses the shirt he was holding aside. It lands harmlessly on the bed. Then, still shirtless, he turns to face me more fully.

I shuffle towards him, half-nervous, half-excited for what’s going to happen next.

Declan so far has kept his gaze on my face, at least while I’ve been watching, so it comes as something as a surprise when he asks, “Why the hell are you wearing Conrad’s t-shirt?”