Page 17 of Monster's Madhouse
Pinned between them, she obeyed, every nerve alive, every breath ragged as though she had just run a marathon. Drifter’s mouth claimed hers again while Monster worked her open from behind, slow and relentless, coaxing her higher and higher. Together they moved with her, not rushing—drawing out every sound, every shiver, every surrender.
The office was filled with the sound of low moans, rough breaths, and the scrape of their teeth on Blitz’s skin. Out in the club, the Halloween party seemed to get started early, obliviousas to what was going on between the three of them back in Monster’s office. In here, she was theirs—caught between two men who knew exactly how to ruin her for anyone else.
The air felt too thick to breathe, their heat pressing in from both sides. She clung to Drifter’s shoulders, lips parted, as Monster’s fingers worked her open with unhurried precision, teasing her just to the brink before easing back. It was maddening—every touch calculated to unravel her.
“On the desk,” Drifter murmured, his voice a gravelly command.
Monster’s hands were already at her hips, lifting, guiding. She let them finish stripping her bare, jeans and panties tugged down until she stepped out of them, heart hammering in her chest. The scarred wood of the desk was cool under her thighs as Drifter eased her back against it, his mouth covering hers again, slower now, like he had all the time in the world.
Between her legs, Monster knelt, his beard rasping her inner thighs as he kissed higher, higher—then finally dragged his tongue through her slick folds. She jerked with a strangled cry, hands fisting in Drifter’s sweatshirt.
“Fuck, she tastes even better than I imagined,” Monster growled against her, his tongue circling her clit before sliding lower, deeper.
Drifter caught her chin, forcing her dazed eyes back on him. “Watch me while he eats you,” he ordered, stroking himself slowly through his jeans.
Her moan vibrated against his lips as Monster devoured her with steady, deliberate strokes, tongue and fingers working in tandem until her thighs shook around his head. Drifter bent to take one aching nipple into his mouth. His teeth grazed, then soothed with his tongue, pulling another broken sound from her throat.
She came hard on Monster’s tongue, trembling against Drifter’s chest, but neither man relented. Monster rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes burning. “Bend her over,” he ordered. Monster seemed to be the one calling the shots, and that worked for Blitz. She liked them both bossy, and neither of them disappointed her in any way.
Drifter’s smirk was feral. He spun her gently, pressing her chest to the desk, her ass high. Monster freed himself, thick and hard, and lined up behind her. His hand pressed the small of her back as he eased in, inch by inch, filling her slowly, stretching her until she gasped and clawed at the wood beneath her palms.
“Good girl,” Monster rasped, driving deep until he bottomed out. He pulled back just as slowly, then pressed forward again, every thrust unhurried, deliberate, making her feel every inch of him.
Drifter stood in front of her, stroking himself as he watched. “Open your mouth, honey.” She did, lips wrapping around him as he slid inside, slow and thick across her tongue. He groaned low, hands fisting in her hair as he guided her to take him deeper.
Pinned between them, she was surrounded, claimed. Monster’s hips rocked into her from behind in a steady rhythm, his cock dragging against her walls while Drifter thrust into her mouth, filling her throat with every controlled movement. Her muffled cries vibrated against Drifter, making him curse under his breath, while Monster’s growl deepened with every slick thrust. Their pace built together, perfectly in sync—one driving into her heat, the other fucking her mouth, using her, worshipping her, ruining her for all other men.
She came again, harder this time, body clenching around Monster’s cock and, nearly choking on Drifter’s thickness as her cries were swallowed down. Neither stopped, not until Monster’s thrust grew rougher, Drifter’s grip tightened, and both spilledinto her with ragged groans—Monster buried deep inside her, while Drifter’s seed spilled across her tongue, their releases hot and overwhelming.
When it was over, the office was thick with sweat and the raw edge of satisfaction. She sagged against the desk, dazed and trembling, lips swollen, skin marked by their mouths and hands. Drifter cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his satisfied smirk. “You’re ours now.”
Monster leaned in from behind, his breath rough against her ear. “Both of ours.”
Monster
They didn’t bother sticking around the club for very long. He knew that the guys would be there partying most of the night since Halloween fell on a Friday night. All he and Drifter wanted to do was take Blitz back to Drifter’s house and beg her to stay with them—not just for the rest of the night, but also for the rest of their lives. He wasn’t sure how that was going to go, but it was a part of their plan. They didn’t just want Blitz for one night—they wanted her forever. They both meant it when they told her that she was theirs and nothing was going to change that for either of them.
He couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest bastard on earth as he watched Blitz sleeping between him and Drifter most of the night. Josie had spent the night at a friend’s house, and that gave them some extra time to decide what their next step was going to be. God, he hoped like hell that step would be the three of them moving into Drifter’s house together. He had already given up his little place and moved into Drifter’s, but he hadn’t told anyone that yet. He and Drifter wanted to keep things quiet until they had a chance to convince Blitz that their crazy scheme could actually work.
She shifted under the blanket, stirring awake, and her eyes went straight to his—hair a mess, lips swollen, little bruises dotting her skin where his mouth and Drifter claimed her. She looked wrecked, used up, and thoroughly loved. His chest tightened at the sight. Not with guilt. With pride.
“Morning,” he muttered, voice scratchy from no sleep.
Her eyes flicked to him, hazy but sharp enough to land right where he wanted them—on him. “Morning.” She tugged the blanket higher, like it’d hide how sore she was, but he caught the wince when she moved. His lips pulled into a small, crooked smirk. Yeah, he saw it, and although it should have made him feel a little bit guilty, it didn’t.
“Didn’t break you, did we, baby?” His tone was rough, but his hand softened when it brushed her hip. He couldn’t help it. He might fuck her hard, but he wasn’t about to let her think he’d walk away after.
Before she could answer, Drifter swaggered into the bedroom with two mugs of coffee in hand, hair sticking up every which way, wearing the same crooked smile that he had the night before when Blitz agreed to spend the night between the two of them. Cocky bastard. Monster watched him hand her a mug, sliding into the bed, on the other side of her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He handed Monster a mug of coffee, and he nodded his thanks. They sat there for a few minutes in silence, letting Blitz take in everything that was going on around her.
“Coffee,” Drifter said, when Blitz looked at the mug as though she didn’t understand what it was. Monster caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes, and he could tell that she didn’t expect that from him. She didn’t expect it from either of them, but she was going to have to get used to the two of them taking care of her from here on out.
“Didn’t take you for the type to bring me breakfast,” she said, and Monster watched Drifter’s smirk, and saw the softer look underneath it. That was Drifter all over—arrogance on the outside, something else buried deeper. As his best friend, Monster saw that side of Drifter. Most of the guys in the club just saw the harder side of him, though.
“I like taking care of you, honey,” Drifter admitted. “I meant it last night when I said that you’re ours. Monster and I have talked about all this, and we take care of what is ours, honey.” She looked between the two of them, sipping her coffee. Monster could tell that she wasn’t sure if she should believe them or not.
Monster took a slow sip of his coffee, letting the warm liquid hit his soul before he spoke. “You don’t get it yet,” he said, voice low, steady. Her gaze snapped to him, wide and searching. “Last night wasn’t a one-off. You’re in this now. With us.”
“Both of you?” she asked, quiet, like she didn’t quite believe it.
