Even her hands shook, aching from the lesson Boone had driven into them, punishment lingering long after the boards were gone.
By the time they finished, she was wrecked. Body clenching without rhythm, every muscle trembling. She sagged between them, unable to move, her pulse fluttering high and erratic in her throat.
And somehow, the marathon gauntlet of torture-fucks left her feeling wanted. Claimed. Cherished, in their own savage way.
Warmth pooled under the ache as she let her eyes drift closed. Her body would hurt in the morning, but her heart was full.
They wanted her.
Even when they hurt her.
Especiallywhen they hurt her.
All that pain, all that use. Instead of feeling broken, she felt wanted. Tethered.Loved, in the language of wolves and sadists.
And that thought carried her into sleep.
* * * *
Friday morning, Kenny interrupted her ritual, pulling her to him when the alarm went off, the weight of his hand rolling her onto her side.
Silas, who never wakes early, passed something to Kenny, which she later figured out was a tube of lubricant, because seconds later, Kenny’s dick was pressing into her ass, andfuck,her whole body flinched. The ache bloomed fast and hot, nerves sparking from overuse, the plug’s absence having done little to soothe the soreness. Her ass clenched on instinct, trying to deny him, but he was already inside.
Silas must’ve been annoyed by her yelping and small screams, because he bent her torso down, aiming her face for his dick. She opened when he scooted up a little, accepted him intoher mouth. He tasted of soap, salt, and skin, but his aim was the back of her mouth and down her throat, so she was soon fighting for breath.
It was all wrong, too soon, too deep, too much, not the Friday morning she expected, and yet, it wasright.
She was theirs. This was use.
Neither man took terribly long to come, one in her ass, the other in her mouth.
“Go get my shower ready, little hawk.” Kenny kissed the top of her head, popped her on the ass, and she climbed out of bed, her asshole burning, sharp little pains shooting through it with every step. “Permission to pee first, Sir?”
“Granted.”
Andfuck, she knew it was going to hurt to pee, but she had to go. She looked at her hands while she sat on the toilet. The tiny holes had nearly healed overnight — the magic of being a shifter. The skin should be completely new by the time her shift started that night. Her asshole wasn’t likely to be the same, but that was fine. She’d enjoy being sore until the pain faded, and then she’d miss it.
The rest of the morning followed ritual. Boone didn’t go easy just because she was sore. He rutted into her pussy like he wasn’t going to see her for over a week, like she was athingto fill one last time before she left.
Her cunt ached, raw from the stretch and friction, and the sting of it followed her into breakfast.
She kept their glasses full, her body hurting in every direction, but her place was clear, and pain had never made her feel so anchored. Cared for.Home.
Silas had fallen back to sleep after he’d fucked her mouth, so when his alarm woke him hours later, he needed to use her all over again, but before he took her, she had to ask him to hurt her, and she chose the one where the spoon hit her exposed clit.
She was once again restrained to his headboard by her wrists and ankles. He pulled her clit hood up and away with strong fingers, and brought the back of a cold metal spoon down on the exposed nub, hard strikes that made her yelp, jolt, and clench with each impact. The yelps turned to shrieks, which eventually turned to screams. Her world narrowed to a single, throbbing pulse of agony he kept striking like a fucking drum.
Two minutes later, when his damned phone finally chimed, she was trembling. Sobbing. Her world narrowed to the raw nerves he’d tortured while bound open, no way to protect herself.
And when he finished, he released her from the headboard, flipped her over, ordered her to knees and chest, shot lube into her ass, and then thrust himself into her with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs, a brutal claiming that left no doubt her pain fueled his sadism and her screams fed his lust.
And yet, she still begged for an orgasm, which he thankfully allowed, and it ripped through her, made her bruised clit hurt a thousand times worse.
Afterward, she was left shaking, face pressed into his sheets, lungs heaving as if she’d run miles. He didn’t offer comfort, only a flat, “Dismissed, painwhore.”
The morning before had been an anomaly because the hurt she’d chosen had been so extreme. However, the whole point of the morning ritual is to be used and dismissed. No compassion. No kind words. In the morning, she’s a vessel for them to slake their needs. Not a person. She pulled herself together as best she could, the sting between her legs still searing, and walked out of his room.
Goodbye kisses lasted longer for everyone, each one carrying weight she hadn’t expected. Kenny’s was possessive, claiming. Boone’s was steady, reassuring. Silas bit at her lower lip like he was marking her one last time.
