Page 82 of Haunted

“Fuck,” I breathe against her ear, feeling her body shake beneath me as the orgasm crashes over her. “You dirty little slut. You’re coming from watching them stroke their cocks for you.”

Her whimper is broken and breathless as the climax tears through her. No touch, no stimulation—just the raw visual of their desire painting the marble floor while they groaned her name. The knowledge that shecan reach her peak from nothing but their voyeuristic worship sends fire racing through my veins.

“Christ, Mira,” I growl, my hands gripping her hips tighter as she trembles through the aftershocks. “You’re so fucking perfect. So beautifully dirty.”

This woman—this incredible, responsive creature—is everything I never knew I wanted. The way she embraces her own desires, how she doesn’t shy away from the darker edges of pleasure, incites a voracious roar in my chest.

She’s mine. Every trembling inch of her belongs to me.

I pull out of her slowly. But I’m not done—not even close. I need to taste her mouth, need to claim her lips while the evidence of what happened still coats the floor before us.

My hands grip her shoulders, turning her around while we’re both still on our knees. The movement is sudden but gentle, positioning her to face me on the rug. Her eyes are glazed with satisfaction, lips parted as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Look at me,” I command.

When her hazel eyes lock with mine, I see it all—her insatiable need, surrender, the shattering of every defense she swore she’d never let fall. The relentless, brilliant woman who once looked at me like a puzzle to solve now kneels at my feet, breath shallow, skin flushed, pupils blown wide with need.

I thread my fingers into her hair,tightening enough to drag a gasp from her lips—and that sound? That’s the match to everything I’ve held back.

I kiss her mouth like a starving man devouring his first meal in weeks, the kiss hard, hungry, ruthless. She opens for me without hesitation, and I know—I’ve got her—every part of her.

32

MIRA

Xavier’s hands are surprisingly gentle as he cleans me with soft cloths, wiping away the evidence of what happened. I feel completely wrecked, like every nerve ending has been exposed. The silk wrap he drapes around my shoulders barely covers anything, but the gesture feels almost tender after everything.

We settle onto one of the velvet loungers positioned around the chamber’s perimeter, Xavier pulling me against his chest. From this vantage point, I can see everything—every coupling, every display of dominance and submission playing out across the opulent space.

But my eyes keep drifting to the alcove where Cora writhes between three masked men.

I should look away. God knows I should give my best friend some privacy. The scene holds my attention captive, and I can’t turn away.

One man lies beneath her, his cock buried deep in her pussy while she rides him with abandon. Behind her,another grips her hips as he thrusts into her ass, his movements synchronized with the man below. The third kneels in front of her face, his hands tangled in her chestnut hair as she takes his length into her mouth.

They move together like a perfectly choreographed dance of desire, and despite everything—despite my guilt, despite my horror at bringing her into this—Cora isn’t fighting.

She isn’t struggling or protesting, meeting their thrusts, arching into their touch. Even from here, I can see the flush of arousal on her skin and hear the muffled sounds of pleasure she makes around the cock in her mouth.

Xavier’s voice cuts through my swirling thoughts, casual and curious rather than mocking.

“Do you think she’s enjoying it?”

I want to snap at him, to defend Cora’s honor, to insist that no one could enjoy being used like that. But the words stick in my throat because the evidence before my eyes tells a different story.

Cora’s movements become increasingly frantic and desperate. Her hips buck against the man beneath her while she pushes back against the one taking her from behind. The sounds she makes grow louder, more urgent until even the cock in her mouth can’t muffle them completely.

My chest tightens as a flurry of emotions tumbles through me: guilt, failure, the fear that I may have lost my best friend after this. Will she ever forgive me? As I watch, those emotions ebb slowly until I am watchingmy best friend surrender so beautifully that it sends heat through my already overstimulated clit.

Xavier’s breath is hot against my ear. “Look at you getting wet from watching your best friend get fucked by three men at once.”

His words make my cheeks burn with shame. His fingers slip between my thighs, finding the evidence of my arousal.

“Christ, Mira.” His groan vibrates through his chest against my back. “You’re soaked.”

Before I can protest or try to explain away my reaction, Xavier’s hands grip my hips with firm authority. He lifts me easily, positioning my slick entrance over his already hard cock. I feel the thick head pressing against me, and then he’s sliding me down slowly, filling me inch by inch until I’m completely impaled on his length.

The stretch makes me gasp, my walls clenching around him as I adjust to his size. I expect him to start moving, to claim me again with the same intensity as before, but instead, he goes completely still.

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