Rafe slaps my breasts hard over the thin fabric. “And we saved you.”
Then, he turns me around to face Lorian, and he plunges his even larger cock into my mouth while Rafe guides my head. “You will learn who is in control, even if we don’t want it.”
“Don’t listen to Rafe, I’ve always wanted you like this. That’s it, Eve,” he says as Rafe moves my head faster.
They use me between them, hands controlling my pace, my depth, and my breathing. Every time I gag, Lorian holds me there an extra second, and when I moan, Rafe pushes deeper.
"Enough," Lorian growls. “Your mouth isn’t enough."
They both pick me up and carry me over to the large bed, big enough for three. Rafe reaches for me, but I’m done being compliant for now. I put my hands on his chest, and he allows me to push him onto his back, and I straddle him, grabbing his strong wrists, pinning him. "You wanted a terrorist in your bed? Here I am."
He groans when I sink down on his dick in one vicious thrust. It’s the kind of move that is going to bruise us.
Lorian moves behind me, his hands spreading my thighs wider than I thought they could go. "You're going to learn to take us both at the same time. But we need to train your body first or we’ll break you in two.”
Lorian spits on my ass and shoves two fingers inside. It feels strange but good. My body feels stretched, stuffed, and full. And it goes taut between them. Then they start moving.
Hard.
Merciless.
Like I belong to them and they’re proving it now, with every snap of their hips, every primal rhythm they’redriving into me.
"Is this what you want from your collared criminal?" I breathe, moving my hips to the anger and frustration I feel about this entire situation.
"Yes," Lorian growls against my neck. "My wicked human. To fill you. To own you. And for you towantit. I’m going to stretch out this ass over the next weeks, and then you will see how owned you can be."
Rafe’s hands arebruising my hips as he drags me down harder onto him. "We own all of you. Every hole. Every inch. Every heartbeat. Every breath. You won’t speak without permission. You won’t piss without permission. You’ll take what we give you—our food, our come—and you’ll thank us for all of it. And you will fucking do it in Imperial."
"You’ll have to make me do it," I say. “All of it.”
"I’m getting the paddle," Lorian says, and his fingers leave my ass, empty and wanting.
Rafe moves out of me with a groan. “Excellent idea.”
I feel completely empty now which is a worse punishment than the paddle.
“Put your hands on the wall and prepare yourself,” Lorian says as he returns with the neural paddle. "Count each stroke in Imperial."
I put my hands against the wall above the bed. The pet dress is bunched around my waist as I brace myself. The first strike lands sharp across the curve of my ass, and every one of my nerves lights up like the start of a firestorm.
"Count," Rafe demands.
"Ehel," I choke. One.
The second strike lands in the same place. Neural feedback turns pain into a sensation that devours me and I welcome it. This is familiar. Reliable. Predictable. Nothing like their emotions.
"Ehelle," I say. Two.
By the fifth, I feel like I might be able to do this.
By the eighth, I’m shaking too hard to hold my position. I sag forward. The paddle doesn't just cause pain; it rewires sensation,making everything hypersensitive. Even the air against my skin feels like too much.
The ninth strike explodes across my thighs, and my knees almost give out.
“Don’t you dare fall,” Rafe says.
“Ahele,” ten, I gasp. I barely get it out. My voice isn’t even mine anymore. Nothing is.
