Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sydney
The bedroom was quiet except for the soft creak of the bed as Levi lowered her onto the mattress. Roland followed, pulling the blankets down and adjusting pillows like it mattered. Both her Daddies needed the ritual of care to remind them that this was real. That she was safe. Here.
The room was warm, but she still felt cold in places. Not from the air, but from the ghost of his touch. She’d been so scared when Greg’s hand clamped on her arm, that she’d frozen, but then the sound of the car door opening had shocked her out of her fear. She couldn’t be taken. She wouldn’t be taken.
She’d fought him off.
But it wasthis,her Daddies, their touch, their steady voices, their love, that had saved her.
Roland sat beside her, brushing her hair back. “You sure you want this now, little bird?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please. I want to feel whole.”
“Oh my little warrior princess, you are whole,” Levi said from the foot of the bed, his voice low, rough with emotion. “But if you need us to remind you…” He began to unbutton his shirt, eyes locked on hers. “We will.”
Sydney sat up, breath catching in her throat. She reached for the hem of Roland’s hoodie and paused.
“Wait,” she whispered. “Can I… undress for you?”
The look that passed between the men was more than heat. It was reverence.
“Yes, little one,” Roland said. “Show us everything that’s yours to give.”
Her hands didn’t shake. Not now. She peeled the shirt over her head slowly, letting it fall behind her, baring herself inch by inch. Her long-sleeved tee and pants soon followed, and she knelt at the centre of the bed without direction, spine straight, chest lifted, skin tingling under their gaze.
She wasn’t afraid.
She was offering them everything, and it made her feel powerful.
Levi came to her first, kneeling behind her, large hands running down her arms. “You’re perfect,” he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Ours.”
Roland stepped close, cradling her face. “So fucking beautiful, little bird. So brave.”
“Tell us what you need,” Levi murmured in her ear.
“I need”—she swallowed—“I need you to take over. I need you toownme. Stop holding back and show me everything.”
A pause. Then Levi’s voice, low and commanding: “Then get on your hands and knees, babygirl.”
Heat pulsed through her belly. She obeyed instantly, sinking into the soft mattress, knees spread, arms straight, her face flushed but proud.
“That’s it,” Roland praised, running his hand down her spine. “Look at you. So ready. So trusting.”
Fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her gently to turn her head so she could see Levi’s eyes.
“No hesitation,” Levi said. “You’re giving us everything, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
The groan that left him was rough and hungry. Roland exhaled sharply.
They undressed together, and Sydney stayed right where they’d placed her, proud in her submission. When Levi finally climbed onto the bed behind her, she gasped at the press of his palm against her lower back.
“You belong to us,” he whispered. “And we’re going to show you what that means.”
“Few ground rules,” Roland started. “Our girl doesn’t come unless we say she does. Your safe word is red, and we’re not anything but Daddy or Sir during a scene. Do you understand these rules, little bird?”
