Page 6 of The Possession

Declan leaned a shoulder against the wall, his expression giving nothing away as he watched Ian devour Savannah. She didn’t melt into him the way she did with me, but she didn’t shy away either.

His palm tightened around her throat, my old friend a fan of asphyxiation. Savannah didn’t react at first, her training resolute. But as the pressure continued, her eyes fluttered open and a flare of panic dilated her pupils.

She didn’t know Ian.

That lack of trust showed now, tears piercing those beautiful dark irises.

Then I cleared my throat and her fear dissipated.

Deep down, she knew I’d never let him seriously injure her. Breath play, maybe. Death, absolutely not.

Ian slowly released his grip, his nostrils flaring in response to her growing anxiety. He dragged his teeth over her lower lip, his blue eyes radiating fire as he stared at her. “You were right, Luka. She’s stunning.”

Savannah’s breath came in a pant, her cheeks taking on a pretty pink glow. “What do you say, Savannah?” I asked her.

“Thank you, Master Ian.”

Declan pushed off the wall, his hands in his pockets. He was the only one who hadn’t partaken of a drink. Typical. He never indulged much in alcohol during our college years either, his focus always on the future. “My turn,” he said, not bothering to ask me for permission. He took Savannah by the hips, spinning her toward him and taking her mouth in the next breath.

Goose bumps pebbled down her arms, her confusion palpable.

I always dictated.

I always set the rules.

I always commanded the room.

And Declan had just taken her without permission.

It was a change of pace. A new methodology she didn’t understand. A surprise of sorts. One I allowed because of my long friendship with the man kissing the hell out of my toy. I trusted him to lead, knew he required his own introduction to determine the next steps. And given the way he held Savannah, I knew exactly what those steps would be.

He wanted to fuck her.

Hard.

And I couldn’t wait to watch.

Savannah

This wasn’tpart of the usual program.

Master Luka didn’t let other men drive.

But the male holding me now definitely owned the room, his dominance an aphrodisiac to my senses. It intoxicated me with every breath, his body hard and masculine against mine.

Then I felt Master Luka’s familiar presence at my back, and my knees nearly buckled. It was too much. These men. Their aura of control. Their intimidating size. I felt so small between them, only five foot three to their at least six-foot frames.

They were muscular and powerful. The richness of their colognes boasted wealth and sophistication. And their growls of aggression made my thighs clench withneed.

The unnamed male released me as suddenly as he’d grabbed me, his expression a mask of indifference as he looked over my shoulder. “She’ll do.”

Master Luka chuckled. “Glad you approve, Declan.”

Declan, I repeated to myself, tasting the name. It seemed appropriate.Master Declan.

“Are you ready to play?” Master Luka asked, his question for his two friends, not for me. Because I had no choice. I was the object to be played with, not one of the players in the game.

“Fuck yes,” Master Ian said, finishing the contents of hisdrink and setting the glass on the table beside Master Luka’s. “May I?” He approached me with his hand held out for mine.

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