“She’s ready,” Cast murmurs, his voice thick with lust.
Vincent moves up, positioning himself at my entrance. Damien pulls back just enough to let me gasp for air, a string ofsaliva connecting my lips to his shaft. “You hear that, Willow? You’re going to be so full of us. Think you can handle it?”
“Please,”is all I can manage, a broken sob of pure need.
Cast presses the thick head of his cock against my ass. Vincent nudges into my soaking pussy. The dual pressure is immense, overwhelming. I am being split in two, claimed in entirety.
“On my count,” Cast commands. Damien guides himself back into my waiting, hungry mouth.
“Now.”
They push in together.
The invasion is absolute. My worldshatters. Vincent sheathes himself inside my pussy in one smooth, deep thrust, filling the aching emptiness there. At the exact same moment, Cast presses forward, a slow, inexorable invasion into the tight, resisting heat of my ass. The stretch is blinding, a white-hot pain that melts instantly into the most profound, decadent fullness I have ever known. And my mouth… my mouth is full of Damien, his hips rolling gently, fucking my face with a possessive rhythm.
I am theirs. Completely. Utterly. There is no part of me that is my own.
Tears of overwhelmed ecstasy leak from the corners of my eyes. Damien wipes them away with his thumb. “Look at you.Our perfect, filthy girl. Taking us all so well.”
The humiliation, the praise, the brutal, physical possession—it all coalesces into a tidal wave of pleasure. They begin to move, a chaotic, perfect symphony of thrusts. Vincent’s pace is deep and rhythmic, grinding against that spot inside me that makes my toes curl. Cast’s movements are slower, more deliberate, each stroke a fresh claiming, the friction unbelievable. Damien controls the pace of my breathing, my gagging moans a part of the music they’re making with my body.
I am a vessel. An object of their shared desire. And the pleasure is a live wire, sparking through every nerve ending, coiling tighter and tighter deep in my belly. I am so close. So impossibly close.
Damien feels the vibrations of my moans intensify. He pulls back, his cock glistening with my saliva. “That’s it, baby. Come for us. Come all over his cock while we fill you up.”
The permission is my undoing. The coil snaps.
My orgasm rips through me, violent and all-consuming. My back arches as a silent scream tears through me, my inner walls clenching violently around Vincent, my ass squeezing tight around Cast. The sensations are endless, a chain reaction of pleasure that just keeps building, wave after devastating wave.
Through the haze, I feel Vincent’s thrusts become erratic, hear his groan as he finds his own release inside me. Cast’s grip on my hips becomes iron-tight, a final, deep thrust as he stills, spilling into the heart of me. Damien strokes himself, his eyes locked on mine, and with a low growl, he comes across my breasts, the hot stripes of his release a final mark of possession.
For a long moment, there is only the sound of our ragged breathing. The room smells of sex and sweat and us. They remain where they are, still buried inside me, a heavy, perfect weight. I am wrecked. Used. Exquisite.
Vincent is the first to pull away, collapsing beside me. Cast follows, his hand stroking my flank in a gesture that’s almost… possessive. Damien leans down, kissing me, deep and slow, letting him taste himself on my lips.
He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with dark promise. “Merry Christmas, Princess.”
“Merry Christmas,” I sigh.
21
WILLOW
“Santa came!”The door bursts open. Light from the hallway floods the room, followed by a stampede of small feet and the shrill sound of uncontainable joy.
“Theo, wait—” Rose’s voice cuts off in a laugh. “You can’t just?—”
“Santa came!” he yells again, louder this time, as if the entire house needs to know.
I groan into the pillow. “What time is it?”
“Five,” Damien mumbles against my shoulder, his voice rough with sleep.
Vincent makes a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl from the other side of the bed. “Five… in the morning?”
“Five-oh-seven,” Elise supplies helpfully, climbing straight onto the mattress. She’s still in her candy-cane pajamas, her curls sticking up in all directions.
Cast groans from somewhere behind me. “How do you know that?”
