Nova woke up sore and sticky between her legs. The memory of Kane’s thick fingers and the way Rafe and Drake had stroked themselves while watching her come made her face burn. She pulled on the same short dress from yesterday — no bra, no panties, because they hadn’t given her any clothes back.
The smell of coffee and bacon hit her as she walked into the huge open kitchen. Morning light poured through the glass walls, showing nothing but mountains and trees for miles. No escape.
All three guards were there.
Kane stood at the counter in tight black sweats, silver hair messy, muscles flexing as he poured coffee. Rafe leaned against the fridge, shirtless, tattoos crawling over his scarred chest. Drake sat on a stool, cocky grin already in place, shirt unbuttoned.
“Morning, princess,” Kane
