“Breathe,” Nick murmured.“Relax for them.”
He reached for my breast.
He wasn’t gentle.
The touch bit deep, and when his fingers pinched my nipple, my breath broke into pants. I groaned—then whimpered.
Alec gripped my arse and thrust deeper.
Nick released my nipple and began to circle the aching flesh with slow, deliberate strokes.
“Yes, Ella,” he said.“Take those fat cocks in your holes.”
He pushed two fingers into my mouth.
There was no pride left in me—not suspended like this between pain and pleasure. No dignity in the degradation.
Rowan moved beneath me, rocking his hips, as if confirming the thought.
“Our good little fuckhole.”
Nick shoved his fingers deeper, making me gag.
Alec chuckled—then tutted.
“Go easy on her.”
He pulled back and slammed into me anyway, hard enough that I gurgled around Nick’s fingers, spit spilling down my chin.
Nick rose and guided my mouth toward his cock.
I drew in a breath, steadying myself, then swallowed him—piercings and all.
“Airtight,” Nick hissed.“Good girl.”
Hands moved me in time with their rhythm. Every time I started to drift, Nick’s grip in my hair and the thrust down my throat anchored me again—hard, insistent. I stopped trying to disappear. It was easier to stay where they kept me. Easier to let the rhythm carry me than to fight it.
Their voices haunted my mind.
“Good girl.”
“Take it.”
“Tight fucking arse.”
“Oh, yeah. Just like that. Soak my dick.”
“So fucking good. What a good fuckhole.”
“Best damn fuck ever. Look at her—fucking herself on us.”
“Hungry whore.”
“Gonna come.”
“Now. Now. Now.”
My limbs trembled, arms flailing, but hands caught me before I could collapse.
