Page 138 of Bitter Truths

He holds completely still.

“That’s it,” he breathes, nuzzling into my throat. “That’s what I want to hear.” Another inch. Slow. Obscene.

I sob.

Owen snaps. “You’re dragging it out on purpose, you fuck.”

“I’m enjoying her,” Tristan says, finally sliding deeper.

Owen steps closer, kneeling down beside me, his cock inches from my lips, face tight with frustration.

“Princess…” he says, voice rough, lower now, trying for soft. Trying. “Can I have your mouth for a second? Just let me feel those lips, okay? I’ll be gentle.”

My eyes flutter up to him, unfocused, tears in the corners, but I nod.

His cock slides in slow… at first. A sigh escapes him. He brushes hair from my face, stroking my cheek, tender⁠—

And then his hips jerk forward, pushing deeper. I gag, my eyes go wide, and he moans like I just gave him oxygen.

“Owen—fuck,” Freddie snaps. “You said gentle.”

“I’m sorry, Princess, you’re so warm,” he pants, hand curling in my hair, holding me in place.

I squirm.

“Whine for me,” Tristan hisses, rolling his hips.

I do, around Owen, tears streaking my cheeks, body caught in perfect torment.

Tristan’s rhythm turns rougher, his cock twitching as he comes again.

“Fuck,” he says through clenched teeth. “Stay still, Bianca. Let me… feel you for a minute.”

But my notoriously impatient alpha has had enough. A low growl rips from his chest, and in a blur of movement, he shoves Tristan back with a shoulder and a snarl, forcing him off me.

Tristan’s lips curl into a mischievous smile, but he doesn’t resist. He’s enjoying this.

Owen’s already on me. He grabs my waist, rolls me onto my side, pulling my back flush against his chest. I whimper, limp in his grip, my leg hoisted up over his thigh as he spreads me wide.

So wide.

“Look at her,” he sounds angry, but I realize he’s talking to the others. “Look at what they denied us.”

He leans in close to my ear, voice sweet.

“I’m gonna take care of you now, Princess. Nice and easy.”

But when he thrusts into me, it’s anything but.

He curses.

I sag into him, helpless. Every snap of his hips makes me jolt, body caught in his arms like a doll.

“Fuck… Owen… sensitive,” I gasp, but it only makes him snarl low and tighten his grip.

His hand wraps around my throat, not choking… just holding. Keeping me anchored against him.

“You can take it,” he’s nuzzling into my hair and neck like a madman who can’t get close enough.