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And that’s all it takes for me to come apart.

My orgasm crashes through me, violent and humiliating, making my pussy clench around the zombie’s fingers. The wolf holds me up while I shake and gasp, cursing them in a voice that doesn’t even sound like mine. The orgasm goes on and on, edged higher by hands that won’t stop, that keep stroking me through the aftershocks until I’m oversensitive, whimpering, and trying to squirm away.

They finally let me catch my breath. The skull slowly removes his fingers, almost reverently.

Then the wolf turns me around.

His mask is still on. And up close, the snarl is worse. It looks more real. His eyes, behind the holes, are dark and focused as he sheds his clothes. I try not to drool at his six-pack abs, his defined chest, or massive arms.

“On the bed,” he says, and his voice sounds different now. Thicker.

I climb onto white sheets that feel cold against my overheated skin. He follows, feeling as the mattress dips under his weight, and I instinctively spread my legs.

Because that’s what this is, right? A trade.

I give them one night for Bailey’s safety, and this is where he collects.

He positions himself between my thighs, and the head of his cock, hot and blunt, presses against my entrance. He’s thick, bigger than I expected.

Fuck. This is going to hurt. I know it.

I’ve heard the stories, read the warnings, and I brace for it, dig my nails into the sheets.

Survival mode… survival mode…

The wolf starts pushing in, and the burn is immediate. White-hot, tearing through me in a way that doesn’t feel like anything the romance novels promised. I choke on a cry, and my eyes start watering.

He freezes.

His whole body goes rigid above me, while his cock is barely inside me, pulsing. But he’s not moving or breathing. I don’t understand what’s happening until I feel it…the give and the wetness that isn’t just arousal anymore.

“Fuck!” he growls, pulling out slowly. And the abandonment feels like an insult, leaving my body clenching around empty air. He stares down at me, mask still on, and I see his eyes now. Really see them. They are wide with shock.

“You’re a virgin,” he says, and it’s not a question.

I don’t answer.

I don’t move.

“Why didn’t you say something?” The skull says, from beside the bed. His voice sounds different now, less certain.

I stare at the ceiling. “Would it have mattered?” I ask, and my voice sounds dead.

The wolf doesn’t answer. He’s still between my legs, his cock still hard from not finishing what he started. His gloved hand comes up, touching my face, and I flinch for real this time.

Not from his gentleness, but because his hand is shaking.

“Yes,” he says quietly. “It would have mattered.”

But he doesn’t leave. None of them do. Instead, they settle around me on the ruined white bed, three monsters in masks. And I stay there. Naked and shaking, waiting for whatever comes next. Because I still don’t have a choice. The deal isn’t done, and Bailey is still on a leather couch somewhere.

Yeah, she’s safe. But that’s only because I agreed to do this. Because I always pay what’s owed.

And the worst part is, some fucked-up piece of me is lying here still wet.

Wanting.

Hoping they will finish anyway.