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I bring my right hand between my legs, then finger my pussy. A whimper escapes me, and my eyes shut. I rub the poem on my folds, not knowing what I’m doing, but craving every bit of it. I want these words tattooed on me. These are my captor’s words.
They terrify me.
They turn me on.
They make me want to run.
They make me want to fight.
Visions of Brock and Rook holding me on this bed while Colt ravages me fill my mind. I try to fight, to fend him off. He produces a knife and carves his initials onto my tummy. My screams fill the room even though no one can hear. This penthouse is too secluded. That’s why they put me in it. They can do whatever they want to me and no one will ever know.
In my fantasy, Colt’s furious cock slams into me. He doesn’t thrust. He doesn’t buck. He stares at me with pure venom in his eyes. The same spirit of evil that causes him to write these beautiful words is what makes him a beast in bed. He hurts me so hard that I cry. I beg him to stop and to take me somewhere else with a bed of rose petals. My virginity should be taken in a romantic way. Not this way. This is assault.
Colt doesn’t stop. He can’t. Whatever psychotic things he’s experienced prevent him from taking my needs into consideration. He keeps his dick inside me, thick and spear-like, pushing into me, ripping my insides, sending pinpricks of pain coursing across my skin.
Heat flushes my cheeks and turns my nipples into stiff buds, and it’s not long before I come on his poem.
I take the poem that’s now damp from my heat and drape it across my breasts. The paper doesn’t tear, which is a testament to the strength that my Kings have imbued me with. No doubt exists in my mind that this paper would’ve torn one month ago. I wasn’t strong enough to soak it with my cum and keep it intact. The paper is a metaphor for my inner Queen. She’s growing every day. Understanding how to please her Kings.
My phone buzzes again.
Nate:You didn’t even respond. You’ve probably turned into a whore like all the other girls
Just then, the doors to my penthouse bedroom swing open. Brock and Rook enter, big dumb grins on their faces.
I look at each man as they stride toward me, my heart feeling all warm and fuzzy. Brock’s thick, dark hair is pushed back, all messy and careless. His green eyes pulsate with vigorous energy, letting me know that he’s got something nasty on his mind. Rook’s aura is equally vibrant. His huge hulking body takes up the entire door frame, so big that nothing can pass through. His jaw ticks as his eyes spark and pop with light. I picture his cock in my ass, and I groan. I shouldn’t, I know. I’m turning into such a slut.
I should be scared. I know what happens when Brock and Rook get in these kinds of moods. They hurt me. Shove their cocks down my throat. Pound my ass. Instead, a forbidden part of me wants it, craves their pain. It yearns for their destruction.
I decide to take the opportunity to ask them about Nate.
I tug out my phone, then pull up Nate’s texts. "I’d like your advice on something."
Brock reads the texts, then pushes out a snort of fury. "This is your stepbrother?"
"Yes."
"He has a lot of fucking nerve talking about yourvalueas a woman." Rook is pissed. "You can do whatever you like with your body. It’s your choice. Not your brother’s decision to make."
"It revolts me how he acts like your virginity is the only thing that’s important about a female." Brock can’t control his rage. "You’re so much more valuable than your cunt. You’re a Queen."
Brock wraps me in a hug. I’m tempted to sob, but I hold back the tears. He gets me. He sees me for the first time in my life and tells me what I’ve wanted to hear.
Brock holds me, just holds me. Nothing in this world compares to his gentle embrace. Rook hugs me too, not letting my fears overwhelm me. He shows me that I’m perfect the way that I am, even if he’s going to destroy me later.
My stepbrother can’t hurt me.
"Thank you both."
A door slams in the penthouse.
I look up, wondering who it is.
Esmerelda’s servants?
No, they know better than to be so loud.
Brock and Rook tense up right away. "Be quiet, little Olive. Colt’s in a bad fucking mood."
