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Damien follows his path with the tip of the knife, snagging on my skin in a jagged line of scarlet that takes my breath away. He dips his mouth to it, and he licks the blood away with a soft moan.
“Beautiful,” he whispers against my wet skin, and then the handle of the knife is pressing against me, pushing into my pussy. I cry out as he works it inside, the intrusion blunt and unforgiving. But fuck, it’s also making me wet, my arousal mingling with the pain.
“Take it,” Damien growls, his thrusts with the knife handle rough and urgent. My body bucks, torn between the sharpdiscomfort and the deep, throbbing pleasure building low in my core. I’m panting, moaning, lost in this dark spiral of sensation that Damien orchestrates with every calculated move.
“God, yes,” I gasp, even as tears prick at my eyes from the intensity. Damien watches every reaction, every quiver of my body, and it drives him further, his need etched clearly in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes.
The knife retreats and I feel empty for a moment before Damien’s tongue lashes out, flicking over my swollen clit. My cry is swallowed by the thick air of desire in the room, a feral sound that echoes off the walls. The wetness between my legs, showing my arousal, gushes as he lavishes attention on my most sensitive spot.
“Please,” I whimper, not entirely sure what I’m begging for—relief, more, an end to the confusing pain. It doesn’t matter because Damien isn’t listening. Or maybe he is, in his own twisted way, because suddenly there’s the blunt pressure of him at my entrance, not the knife handle this time, but his cock.
I can’t stop the scream that rips from my throat as he thrusts into me, hard and deep, no mercy in the move. He’s everywhere, filling me completely, stretching me to accommodate his size. My arms pull at the restraints, the silk rubbing painfully against the brand on my wrist, but they hold firm, keeping me spread and vulnerable to his every whim.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, slamming into me with a rhythm that’s both punishing and perfect. The bed bounces beneath us, the only sound aside from our laboured breaths are the other men’s pants as they tug on their cocks, watching this display with deepening desire.
Every thrust of Damien’s cock sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. I’m teetering on the edge of something monumental, something dark and all-consuming. With eachpush, he hits a spot inside me that makes lights dance behind my closed eyelids.
“Come for me,” Damien demands softly.
As if his words are the key to releasing the floodgates, my body obeys, convulsing around his long, stiff length in a climax so powerful it tears a sob from my chest.
He doesn’t let up, riding out my orgasm, chasing his own until, with one final, deep thrust, he freezes. I feel his cock pulse inside me, his hot release coating my inner walls, and it drags another moan from my lips.
“Fuck, Damien!”
“Ever,” he breathes out, almost reverently, as he collapses beside me.
The ties fall away, and my limbs are free, tingling as the blood flows freely again. I’m sprawled out, exposed, each man’s gaze heavy on my skin like a caress. Their focus is clear—me, their shared obsession, their whore to be played with until they decide otherwise.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, angel,” Alistair breathes out, voice laced with lust as his eyes devour me from where he stands. His cock is hard, an impressive length that makes my mouth water despite the lingering soreness between my thighs.
“Beautiful,” Charlie murmurs in agreement, his cock jutting out in front of him, ready for action. He’s already reaching for me with a greedy sort of eagerness that makes me giggle with nerves.
Charlie doesn’t waste any more time. His touch is fire and promise, fingers trailing up the inside of my thigh as he positions himself between my legs.
But Alistair joins us on the bed and lifts me to straddle him as he lies back. He guides his cock to my pussy, dripping with cum, and shoves it inside me roughly. The two of them glance ateach other, a silent communication that has me bracing for what happens next.
“Relax, angel,” Alistair says as he pushes further into me, inch by thick inch, his girth stretching me deliciously. It’s a burn, a sweet pain that has me gasping.
“God, so fucking tight,” Charlie grunts as he enters me from behind, filling me completely. They move together, thrusts and withdrawal that drive every coherent thought from my mind.
“More,” I beg, shamelessly rocking against them, needing that edge again—the precipice of pleasure that I want to fall off.
They oblige, setting a punishing pace that has me spiralling, nails digging into Alistair’s chest as I struggle to keep grounded in reality. Every push deeper, every angle calculated, seems designed to unravel me further.
“Shit, you feel amazing,” Alistair groans, his hand finding its way to my clit, pressing circles into the swollen bud.
“Fuck yes,” I cry out, barely recognising the needy, desperate sounds that escape me. My body is theirs to use, an instrument on which they play a symphony of depravity—and, fuck, I love it.
“Come for us, Ever,” Charlie growls, his fingers digging into my hips with bruising force as they both thrust harder, faster.
Like a wave crashing over me, I shatter, pleasure engulfing me in a blinding rush.
“Fuck!” Alistair’s curse is a strangled sound of triumph as he follows me over the edge, his release hot and deep inside me. Charlie isn’t far behind, his movements erratic as he finds his own climax, filling me with his warmth.
“Ours,” they both pant almost simultaneously, marking me in the most primal way possible. In this moment, there’s no questioning I belong to all of them, utterly and completely.
Alistair lifts me and places me on the bed as he and Charlie back away, leaving me panting, craving more. Ben moves over,his gaze intense, the green of his eyes nearly swallowed by dilated pupils.
