“But now that we’re here,” The Black Mask murmured, leaning close, “we’re not leaving.”
Something inside me cracked open. Confusion. Desire. Fear. It all felt the same.
“You’re not going?” I whispered. They didn’t answer… just shook their heads slowly, in unison. “Then show me.”
And I didn’t know if it was a challenge, a plea, or the beginning of my undoing.
8
The air turned so thick it made it hard to breathe.
The Skull stepped closer until my knees brushed his thighs. The Black Mask shifted even closer, crowding me so I felt my blood pressure rise. The weight of his attention was a touch of its own.
“Show you?” he murmured. “We already are.”
The Stag’s fingers traced a line along my throat, a warning disguised as care. His breath warmed the side of my face, his voice low enough to crawl into me. “Don’t move unless we tell you.”
The Black Mask’s hand found the edge of the blanket and tugged, slow, testing. I could have stopped him—should have—but my body betrayedme. The fabric slipped, revealing my bare skin to the chilled air. My pulse jumped, echoing the hum of the heater.
“See?” The Stag whispered, his mouth ghosting the curve of my ear. “Your body knows us already.”
Every breath was a dance against me—his exhale against my neck, the low rumble of groans all around me, and the invisible heat of triple gazes that never wavered. Their presence was heavier than anything spoken.
The Skull finally touched me. It was just a thumb beneath my chin, lifting it until I stared into his eyes that seemed a hell of a lot darker right now, as if the pupils ate up any color. “Still want the truth?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Then learn it,” he said. He smoothed a finger over my bottom lip. “Truth isn’t gentle.”
The room smelled of wood-smoke, heat, and something darker, like adrenaline and fear combined as one. The dizzying ache of being seen too closely filled me. The blanket fell the rest of the way down my body, and I shivered, not from cold but from the sense that I had already been claimed in ways I couldn’t name.
The Skull’s breath rasped close enough to grazemy cheek. “Keep your eyes open,” he said. I obeyed, realizing I’d closed them without knowing.
The Stag’s hand returned to my throat. His touch was heavy and steady as he guided me off the bed. The Black Mask rose, too, the floorboards groaning under his weight as he moved behind me.
Every sound sharpened: the heater’s steady hum, the whisper of fabric, the ragged pull of my breath. They arranged me away from the edge, their shadows circling in a slow, deliberate orbit.
Nothing was rushed. Their movements felt intentional—ritualistic. Something brushed my shoulder. A knuckle or a blade, I couldn’t tell. Every nerve lit up like a live wire moving across my body.
The Stag’s palm pressed a little firmer, just enough to tilt the room. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Just let us take control.” It was an explicit command, and one I wasn’t meant to disobey. All I had to do was give in and listen.
The world narrowed to the pulse under his hand and the restless ache unfurling low in my body. A heavy throb settled between my thighs. Their silence fed something dark in me that didn’t want them to stop.
The Skull leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. “This is how it starts,” he whispered. “Fear first. Then the wanting. The trick is forgetting where one ends and the other begins.”
The room blurred as the edges dissolved into heat, breath, and touch. For a moment, there was no world beyond this one. It was only them and the terrible, exquisite certainty that I’d let them do whatever they wanted to me.
The Black Mask’s breath warmed my ear as he came up behind me, his chest a solid wall at my back. I twisted instinctively, a token struggle that drew a low, guttural laugh from all three of them.
“Such a pretty, willing girl.” The Black Mask’s voice sounded like a dark promise. None of them were wearing masks, but the names clung to each of them regardless, the cruelty in their sharp features a more effective disguise than anything else.
“Like a small prey caught in a snare,” The Skull said with amusement lacing his voice.
“This is all for our entertainment.” The Stag’s hand, large and calloused, clamped over my mouth, stifling my weak cry, not one of fear but one of depraved ecstasy.
The air caressed my bare skin, and a violent tremble wracked my body.This is wrong, this is dangerous,my mind screamed, a rational thought quickly drowned out by the terrifying, shamefulthrob between my legs. I was dripping for the three of them, arousal sliding down my inner thighs.
“Look at her,” The Skull’s reedy voice chimed in. “She’s so fucking wet for it already. Her pretty little cunt is dripping for us.”
