I’m so close, breaths coming in pants, when he pulls his fingers out and brings his hand down—hard. The slap lands right on my pussy, stinging sharp, the pain blooming into white-hot fire that rips a cry from my throat. My clit throbs, the orgasm hovering just out of reach, denied and aching.
“You have a death wish,” he says, voice rough with warning, his eyes meeting mine as he rubs the spot he just struck, the touch now soothing the burn. “Chasing this with me.”
I don’t deny it. The confusion swirls—fear and lust tangled so tight I can’t tell them apart.
“Just fuck me already,” I whisper, pulling at the chains.
He rises, positioning himself between my legs, his cock nudging at my entrance. With one thrust, he sinks in deep, stretching me full, the burn of it mixing with the remnants of that slap. I gasp, nails digging into my palms as he starts moving, slow at first, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. His hands brace on either side of my head, caging me, his mouth finding mine again in a bruising kiss. I taste myself on his tongue, the realization only fueling the fire.
He picks up speed, hips snapping against mine, the bed creaking under us. Each thrust hits deep, his cock dragging against my walls, building that coil again. My mind fractures—thoughts of escape, of danger, of how wrong this is—all drowned out by the slap of skin, the grunt of his breath, the way he fills me completely.
I’m coming undone, and when I grip the bedsheets and turn my face unable to handle the pleasure. The door creaks open, and there stands Miles, all in black, his nose bloody and swollen, bruises blooming across his jaw and cheek. He leans against the frame, watching us with a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Did I miss the show?” Miles says, voice laced with amusement and something darker.
Jamie freezes mid-thrust, then pulls out abruptly, clambering off me, his cock still slick and hard. He grabs his jeans from the floor, yanking them on as he stands, tension coiling his body like a spring.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Miles wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his knuckles. He steps inside, closing the door behind him.
“You’ve been busy.”
“What the hell happened, Miles?”
“Ran into a problem.” Miles wipes his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of red across his knuckles. “Handled it.”
Jamie steps forward, blocking his view of me. “Handled how?”
“I said it’s done,” Miles says, voice flat. “Don’t start.”
Jamie studies him, jaw tight. “You can’t just show up bleeding and expect me not to ask.”
“I’ve been doing that for years,” Miles shoots back.
For a second, neither moves. The air between them feels like it might snap.
Jamie glances over his shoulder at me, then back at him. “She doesn’t need to see this.”
Miles’s eyes flick toward the chains, then up at me again. Something unreadable passes across his face. “She’s seen worse.”
Jamie’s hand curls into a fist at his side, but he forces it open. “Get cleaned up. We’ll talk later.”
Miles exhales, the fight draining out of him. He nods once, slow. “Fine.” He turns for the door, then pauses. “You should think about what you’re doing, brother. Lines blur fast in this place. Have fun with her. She’ll be long gone after tonight.”
I push myself up on my elbows, chains limiting the movement, my body still humming from the interrupted release.
“Does this mean you can let me go?” I ask, voice steadier than I feel, glancing between them.
Jamie shoots me a look, but Miles answers, his bruised eyes flicking over my naked body. “Tomorrow,” he says, crossing the room with a limp. “You’ll be free to leave then. But tonight... looks like the party’s just starting.”
I shrink back instinctively, the adrenaline leaving my limbs, leaving me raw and shaking. I curl my arms across my chest, covering myself. My gaze flits between Jamie and Miles, both of them tense, unreadable. My stomach twists in knots.
“I—” I start, voice quivering. “I should… you need to get cleaned up.” My words stumble out, awkward, but the intention is clear. I want to help him, to fix what’s broken without really knowing why.
Jamie kneels beside me, reaching out with steady hands. He hesitates at the chain around my wrist, then he undoes it slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes on me as if reading my thoughts.
“Stay still,” he murmurs.
