All Chapters of Yes, Daddies: Submitting to the four brothers.: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Alex had taken one look at the screaming infant and knew immediately that none of the measures already taken would stop the crying. They were treating symptoms while the real problem continued to torment the child unchecked.“Hand him to me.” He said, voice steady but edged with the kind of intensity that made every single person in the tent listen to him without question.The orderly didn’t even hesitate for a second before transferring the rigid, red-faced baby into Alex’s arms. “We’ve tried everything.” The orderly said as Alex took a closer look at the baby.The child’s body arched again, fists clenched, the high-pitched wail cutting through the tent like a blade. Alex shifted the infant carefully, supporting the head, then began a rapid but thorough examination of his own.He checked the fontanelle, the eyes, the mouth, the chest, and when he reached the lower limbs he paused. “What the—”He muttered to himself as he checked the baby.One tiny toe on the left foot was swollen and

ZEPHYR.I open my mouth to speak, but Marian is already getting on her feet, and she practically looks like another word from me might push her over the edge, so I just keep my mouth shut and force a smile—for her.“I’ll go pack my bags,” she says, trying to sound as breezy as possible, and I just can’t imagine the relief she must have felt when neither of us said anything. “I’ll be back in a moment.”We watch her leave the room, and the very moment the door closes behind her, the air changes as my brothers all turn their gazes to me as if they’ve been wanting to do that for a while.The concern on their faces is unmistakable as the leftover warmth from the morning evaporates, and what’s left is sharp and focused.My brothers straighten almost as one, and the playful versions of us that existed only for her disappear. In their place stand the men the rest of the world knows—the ones who don’t ask twice and don’t leave threats unanswered.Zayden is the first to speak, and when he does,

MARIAN.I’m not going to lie to myself, I feel bummed that they’re cutting the vacation short. I mean, it’s the only time in years that I didn’t have to worry about anything bothering me in my personal life.It’s the first time that I’ve let loose, relaxed, and enjoyed myself. And there is a part of me that wishes it will never come to an end, but I also know that wishes like that don’t ever come true.The island still sits in the back of my mind like a bright, unfinished dream—warm sand, easy laughter, the way the four of them looked at me like I was something worth protecting instead of something to tolerate.Shaking my head as if the thoughts will fall right out of it if I shake hard enough, I console myself with the simple truth that they wouldn’t have pulled the plug unless it mattered.So instead of acting like a baby because my vacation got cut, I can be a fucking adult. I can bear with them instead of being selfish.They must have their own reasons, and judging from the way th

MARIAN.Malcolm shoves the girl off him so hard she hits the floor with a startled cry, and rage pours off him in waves so strong I can feel it—face flushed, cock still half-hard and glistening, eyes locked on me like I’ve committed the ultimate crime.He lunges at me, and I know for sure that if I don’t do anything, he’s going to hit me. And judging from how much my husband despises me, he’s not going to hold back his strength.Malcolm is going to hit me hard enough to pass out, or hard enough that I’d have to rely on heavy makeup to cover up the bruise. Either one of the two are options that I do not want at all.I have allowed myself to be a doormat, I have given him the avenue to talk down on me as much as he wants just because I don’t want to ruin my chances of getting back everything I have and leaving him for dirt.But the one thing I am not going to allow him to get away with is hitting me. Ten years ago, I took a handful of self-defense classes before the wedding, half-joking

RILEY. My muscles pull taut, and I pause for a moment, giving my body enough time before I pull the dildo out and slam it back into my slutty cunt. My hips rise to meet every thrust, and my other hand slides up under my blouse, shoves my bra aside, and twists my nipple hard enough to hurt. The dual sensation is fucking electric. I can almost feel his weight on top of me, almost hear that low voice telling me to take it. I fuck myself harder, chasing the edge like a woman possessed. The chair creaks, and my cunt makes lewd, sucking noises as pussy juice runs down over my ass and onto the seat. I am panting, moaning, chasing it, and when the orgasm finally rips through me it is so violent my vision blacks out for a second. “FUCKING GODDDD!” I scream—raw, open-mouthed, shameless—as my pussy clamps down on the toy and squirts in hard pulses that soak my hand, the chair, the floor. The scream is still echoing when a sharp knock sounds at the door, but I am too wrecked to stand. My le