Help! the four Alpha's are obsessed with me.-Chapter 191 Lustful thought..

Charles rolled back across the bed, stretching his legs and reaching up to settle his head against the pillow. Instead of soft fabric, however, his skull met the powerful, sudden pull of an arm that caged him from behind.

​Based on his frantic calculations, it wasn’t just one arm—it was two.

Fear caught in his throat as his thoughts began to race wildly. How had he ended up in the embrace of two men in the first place? This wasn’t normal.

​Charles tried to bolt upright, but it was impossible; the grip was too firm. Gosh, he would die of embarrassment if they woke up and found him struggling like a trapped bird.

​Wait! He looked around and immediately glanced down to see if his clothes were intact. To his utter dismay, he found himself clad only in his boxers.

​"Oh no, I didn’t do anything reckless, did I?" he whispered to himself. He tried to piece together the previous night, but the effort only triggered a splitting headache that forced him into silence.

​He raked his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands to see if the sharp ache would subside, but the throbbing continued unabated. Regardless, he decided to sneak out now and hunt for a hangover remedy later. Shifting his weight, he gingerly pried himself out from the heavy embrace. When he finally succeeded, he stood up with a surge of relief.

​Jumping from the bed, he scanned the room for his trousers but couldn’t find them; even his shoes had vanished.

​Where was he? What was wrong with him? The thought of being kidnapped crossed his mind—why else was he in such a strange environment? This wasn’t like him. He wouldn’t destroy his life over useless drama.

​Okay, just keep calm, find the clothes, and run, he told himself.

Oh goodness, even my phone... where is it? He didn’t have the funds to replace it; he lived a modest life and couldn’t afford to be extravagant. If he had someone to blame for this mess, it was the men lying in that bed.

​How shameless! How could they do this to a sleeping guy? But when he turned around to give those "stupid men" a piece of his mind, nothing prepared him for what he saw.

​Two Alpha males were gawking at him. They weren’t just bare-chested; down below, he could see the traces of hair and dark skin. He was damn sure those breathtaking men were naked.

​Deliciously naked.

​Okay Charles, cool down. You’re not drunk. Well, he wasn’t drunk anymore. He remembered going to a club and—oh wow—did he really end up getting fucked by these two?

​His mind ran wild with flashes of the night before, his breathing becoming shallow and unstable.

​"You want to leave, beauty?" the tan-skinned one asked.

​Charles gulped as the man stood up. Even though he knew the man was fully exposed, the guy didn’t seem to care about his own shamelessness.

The muscles of his thighs glistened, the curve of his backside firm and enticing. It made Charles’s eyes nearly pop. If the room hadn’t been so dimly lit, he was sure they would see the pure lust in his gaze.

​Charles didn’t shy away from looking. It wasn’t his fault these men were so attractive and insisted on flaunting their skin. Why should he look away? They obviously wanted him to admire their sculpted bodies, so he would gladly take his fill of the view.

​"Damn, that ass is so good..." Charles muttered, not realizing he had spoken aloud.

​The man who was standing stopped and turned, meeting his eyes.

In that moment, his length was dangling—long, thick, and intimidating. It was the kind of flesh that could render a person paralyzed. Charles found himself fantasizing about how it would feel to have that weight inside him. The mere thought made him ache, heat accumulating in his legs as a wave of horniness washed over him.

​"What did you say?" the man asked, his voice a low, husky rumble.

​Charles was taken aback by the tone. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t soft either; it sounded like music to his ears.

​Oh Charles, you’re finished!

​He knew this was his bane. Anytime he saw an attractive person, it was impossible not to admire them—and it was rarely a "normal" admiration. Charles would picture all manner of scandalous things, scenarios he knew weren’t proper.

​"Hmm... I was asking for my phone and pants. I want to be on my way," Charles added quickly.

​The man laughed. His white teeth caught Charles’s eye; the man was on another level of handsome. His brother—it had to be his brother—remained on the bed, quiet and watching Charles as if he were an interesting project.

​The stare didn’t scare him; instead, it felt like he was being seen from the inside out. Something told him he knew their names, but the memories were hazy. They couldn’t have gone to bed with him without introducing themselves, right?

​The one on the bed let out a maddening smile that nearly took Charles off his feet.

​"Your body is so damn fucking good that I want to undress you right here and fuck that boy-pussy of yours," he said. The slutty words slammed into Charles, his expression shifting from speechlessness to dismay.

​How could he talk to someone like that? As if it were normal? That voice, and the voice of the one standing, sent chills through him. They embodied the crazy male leads he pictured in novels and movies.

The fact that his fantasies were becoming real was bizarre. He had to leave before he did something unspeakable.

​"Hey Thomas, you just made him shy. Don’t scare him like that," the standing one said to the one on the bed.

​The name flashed through Charles’s memory, making his head spin. Yes. Norman and Thomas.

​Thomas was the more intense one, with dark eyes that hinted at resentment, though they were calm now. Norman had a lighter gaze, but Charles wasn’t fooled; he could feel in his bones that these two were dangerous. The way they spoke, their expressions, their "games"—it was all out of place.

​"Let’s just let the beauty be on his way. He must be terrified," Norman said with a taunting look.

​Charles, feeling mocked, scoffed. "I’m not scared of you both."

​That statement made Thomas stand up. He moved closer, slowly stalking toward Charles until he had him trapped against a nearby wall, caging him in.

​"You’re not being smart if you don’t fear us," Thomas breathed. "You’re a soft beauty. We don’t want you breaking."

​Charles stood his ground. "It sounds like you want me to run away screaming. Is that what you take me for? A weak softie? You’re wrong. I might be soft, but I’m not weak or stupid."

​Charles shoved Thomas out of his way and hurried toward where Norman was pointing. His trousers were hanging there. Rage bubbling, he snatched the fabric and pulled them on immediately.

​"Where is it?" he demanded, referring to his phone.

​Norman, seeing how tense and angry Charles had become, smiled and produced the device from a charger. "See? Properly charged to 100%. You can go home in peace now."

​Norman flashed a final, charming smile. Charles gave one last look at the men before heading for the door. Even then, he didn’t shy away from one final glance at their physiques. After admiring the view, he stepped out and slammed the door shut.

​Inside the room, Norman grinned.

​"I inputted our numbers. Rest assured, Thomas, this isn’t the last time."

​Thomas, lost in thought, nodded. "He wasn’t afraid, Norman. He’s definitely the one. You like him, don’t you?"

​Norman didn’t answer, which was an answer in itself.

​"Then we are claiming him for ourselves," Thomas said. "Track down where he lives. I’ll speak with Daniel about Michael’s whereabouts."

​The two brothers then moved to get dressed, ready to start their day.