Slowly one of them strokes in, sinking deeper with each thrust until I’m filled completely. I cry out, and my body clenches around him.
He—whichever of my men is fucking me—moves with relentless precision, each stroke deep, claiming, the cuffs keeping me spread and helpless.
Then he groans. “Fuck, you feel incredible.”
Now I know for sure. It’s definitely Dorian. His voice is raw with hunger, and he digs his hands into my hips, angling my body so I can take him deeper.
The pleasure is making me spin.
“You’re taking me so well, little one.”
I moan, pulling against the restraints, the leather biting into my skin as he drives into me, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge. But he slows, teasing, keeping me there, and I whimper, desperate for release.
“Not yet. We’re nowhere close to being finished with you.” His tone is as commanding as it is approving.
He pulls out, leaving me whimpering.
One of them strokes a finger gently across my lips, and I taste myself. I’m sure the gesture is meant to be soothing, but it only intensifies my emotions.
The bed shifts again, and another hand grips my thigh.Brennan?Or is Dorian trying to trick me?
I’m confounded as much as I’m turned on.
In a few pumps of his hips, he’s inside me. These movements are slower but no less intense. His cock stretches me wider as he finds a rhythm that makes my toes curl.
One of them cups my breasts, his thumbs grazing my nipples.
I tremble as I’m fucked, helpless, exposed.
He quickens his pace, each thrust hitting deeper, and I’m lost in the sensation, the uncertainty that heightens my arousal. “Please…” They’ve broken me so completely that I beg without being prompted. “Please, let me come.”
“You’re doing so good.” Brennan voice is as soothing as it is rough with pride. “But we’ll let you know when you’re allowed to climax.”
He slows, torturing me. I moan as my body silently screams for release. Once more, he thrusts deep, then pulls out.
I’m helpless, left there blindfolded, throbbing, unsatisfied.
From somewhere close, their low murmurs of satisfaction reach me. There’s a clink of a glass—champagne, maybe. Then silence.
Desperately I squirm.
“Look at her,” Dorian says, his voice warm with satisfaction. “Ours completely.”
“She’s everything.”
Their approval makes my heart stutter, even as my body aches for them to finish what they started.
The bed shifts again, and a firm hand grips my thigh.
This time there are no words, no clues—just the heat of a body moving closer.
I’m entered in one swift thrust, and I gasp, my bodyclenching around the cock that’s stretching me wide. The rhythm is relentless, each stroke deliberate, claiming, driving me higher.
Then he withdraws and the other man enters me. At least Ithinkit’s someone else.
Right now, I’m so lost that they might not be taking turns and I wouldn’t know.
They torment my nipples and squeeze my breasts, even while flicking a finger across my clit.