Armen lifts me, turns me, bends me over the arm of the couch. My face is inches from the glass now. I can see every detail of the watchers’ faces. Every flicker of want. A woman on the other side presses her fingers to the glass as if she wants to connect.
I feel Armen line himself up behind me. Then he pushes in, one hard thrust. I cry out, hands clawing for purchase on the couch.
He fucks me like this, rough, deep, right in front of the glass. Every thrust drives me forward, closer to the watchers. They see everything. My face. My body. The way I take him.
And I love it. I fucking love it.
Sting moves in front of me, frees himself. Guides my mouth to him. I take him eagerly, moaning around him while Armen pounds into me from behind.
Rogue watches from the side, stroking himself, eyes dark with approval.
I come again, muffled around Sting, body shaking. Armen follows, thrusting deep, spilling inside me with a low groan.
They don’t stop.
Rogue takes Armen’s place. Sting moves to the side. Armen kneels in front of me, cock still hard.
They rotate, coordinated, relentless. One in my pussy,one in my mouth, one watching. Over and over until I lose count of how many times I come.
The watchers never look away.
I don’t want them to.
Later,I don’t know how much later, I’m collapsed on the couch, trembling. The guys are cleaning me up, wiping me down with the towels, dressing me with steady hands.
Armen flips the switch. The glass goes opaque again. One-way.
The watchers can’t see us anymore.
But I can still see them. Still feel their eyes on me even through the barrier.
I’m breathing hard, skin flushed, mind spinning.
“How do you feel?” Rogue asks.
I laugh—breathless, a little wild. “I don’t know.”
Sting’s hand finds mine. “That’s okay.”
Armen crouches in front of me, eyes steady. “You did well.”
I swallow. “I didn’t know I could... that I’d want...”
“Now you know,” he says simply.
I look at the glass. At the shadows beyond. At the space where I just let strangers watch me get fucked.
And I feel alive. Not trapped. Not owned. Alive.
“We’re not going back to the Rot tonight,” Armen says, standing. “There’s a place nearby. Safe. Where we can stay.”
I blink. “We’re staying outside?”
“For now.” Sting pulls his coat on. “There’s something we need to handle tomorrow. And you’re part of it.”
My pulse kicks. “What kind of something?”
“You’ll see.”
