Page 89 of Bonds of Pain
“Good morning, darling,” he croons.
It takes me a second to hear the change of tone in his voice. I force open eyes that I barely realized were squeezed shut.
Maya is awake and staring straight at me, pupils still blown wide from blush and second-hand arousal.
The urge to pull her under me is immediate, and I fight it off with extreme effort. She can’t be a part of this, not when she’s still under the influence of a drug she never should have taken. I don’t need to give her more reasons to hate us.
Then she reaches for me, just a gentle brush of her fingers against the flushed and overheated skin of my cheek.
“Cillian,” she whimpers.
“Touch her,” Logan urges as he shifts his hips to push deeper inside me. “She wants you to.”
There isn’t a trace of Alpha command in his voice, but that doesn’t stop me from stroking a hand up her trembling thigh. My fingers just barely graze her drenched slit, and she arches into me with a low moan, thumb making soft swirls on her clit.
Logan stroking my cock while he buries himself inside me. My hand buried between Maya’s thighs, while she bucks against the shallow thrust of my fingers.
It’s a dream that will only become a nightmare once we come to our senses.
She grips my wrist hard as she comes, throwing her head back and arching off of the bed in a full-body spasm. The look of pleasure on her face, the way she completely abandons herself to it, is enough to compel my own release.
Logan lets out a satisfied grunt behind me as I spill across the sheets, continuing to stroke my oversensitive flesh until I have to slap his hand away. He shifts to grip my hips with a bruising grip, pushing me down until I’m face down on the bed as he thrusts inside me.
Maya takes it all in, her gaze hazy from orgasm and the lingering effects of the drug. I watch her as she watches us, cheek pressed to the pillow as Logan comes with a low groan.
I don’t take my gaze off her face, wondering what bits of reality are filtering in past the haze.
Because I desperately hope that she won’t remember this come the morning.
Almost as much as I hope that every detail stays imprinted on her mind forever.
Just the same as it will mine.
Chapter Twenty-Two
MAYA
Ifollow Poe through the palace hallways, grateful he’s the one escorting me today because he is the least likely to notice that I haven’t said a single word all morning.
The events of last night feel like a simmering heat under my skin, just on the wrong side of burning. I remember all of it. And if I don’t, I refuse to consider what even more embarrassing details that I might have forgotten.
I’d woken up this morning, physically refreshed but an absolute emotional wreck. The joy and need that had driven me into Cillian’s arms were as real as anything else. I really felt them, even if I only acted on those impulses because of a drug that robbed me of any restraint or reason.
My body still hums with remembered sensations—Cillian’s hands on my skin, Logan’s murmured encouragement, the three of us entangled in a way that felt both wrong and terrifyingly right. The drug had unlocked something primal in me, something I’m not ready to acknowledge in the harsh light of sobriety.
Slick still dampens my panties, even as my skin crawls.
A traitorous part of me wishes I could just live in that moment. Without the weight of decisions and regret, a drug robbing me of the ability to feel anything but pleasure.
The bitter truth settles in my chest like a stone: I’m becoming entangled in their web. Every touch, every shared moment weakens my resolve. I need to remember why I’m still here—not to find connection or pleasure, but to survive, to escape, to make them pay for trapping me in a cage.
Poe stops just outside the harem, glancing back at me with a look of concern.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.
I nod instead of answering. Because if I open my mouth, there is no telling what might come out of it.
Neither of us moves to open the doors.
