Deviant Obsession

Chapter 15

Rhea

I pause at the door to Deviant and take a deep breath, smiling a little at the fact that I’ve walked through it so many times now, I no longer glance up and down the street for fear someone might spot me. Right now, I’m too concerned with what Dean may have planned for my punishment. My imagination runs rampant with possibilities, each more thrilling and terrifying than the last. He’s never been one to inflict pain, leaving that department entirely to his brother, so I’m at a total loss for where this night may lead.

Before I can freak myself out enough to turn around, I push through the door and stride down the hall to the lobby. Dean stands there waiting for me, looking entirely too tempting in a navy T-shirt and dark jeans. His eyes rake over me slowly, as if he’s having the exact same thought about me.

"You're late," he chides me, but there's a hint of that usual smile playing at his lips.

"I'm sorry, I?—"

He cuts me off with a kiss, hard and possessive. "Save it for inside," he murmurs against my lips, before taking my hand and pulling me with him. Dean's grip is firm as he drags me through the lobby, past the desk and toward that familiar velvet curtain. The simple contact feels so normal, like he's staking his claim and thinking nothing of it. I can't help the little thrill that runs through me at the thought.

We head through the club and up the stairs without saying another word. As usual, the second we reach the corridor of playrooms, the atmosphere shifts immediately. The air seems to heat, my breathing getting sluggish as I try to brace myself for another plunge into the unknown.

Dean turns to me as we come to a halt outside a door, his expression a sinister sort of glee.

"You ready, kitten?"

I nod, not trusting myself to form a coherent sentence right now. He unlocks the door with his master keycard and ushers me inside.

The room is fairly similar to the others we’ve played in before. Dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls, various implements of pleasure and pain waiting to be put to use. But, new to me is the sturdy wooden bench standing in the dead center, and the giant mirror that takes up almost the entire wall to my left. I swallow hard.

Dean shuts the door, the locking mechanism clicking into place and sealing us in a world of our own. When he turns back to me, his whole demeanor has changed. Gone is the playful smirk, along with the guy from the lobby who kissed me and held my hand like we were some regular couple. In his place stands the Dom, stern and unyielding.

He reaches out, grasping my chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. "Do you have any idea how disappointed I am?" he asks with a softness that is far more threatening than it is comforting. "I waited for you, Rhea. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"I'm sorry," I offer again, though I know there’s not much point in asking for forgiveness. "Nat came home from work early, and I?—"

"Enough." The single word, spoken quietly but with unmistakable authority, silences me instantly. "I don't want to hear excuses. You’re going to have to earn my forgiveness."

His words sting a little, but curiosity about my punishment rears its head again, reigniting my arousal. My eyes dart around the room, considering which weapon he might choose to teach me a lesson.

"Look at me," Dean commands, and I obey instantly. His icy eyes bore into mine, searching. "You understand why you need to be punished, don't you?"

I nod, unable to look away. "Yes."

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Good girl. Now, take off your dress."

I’m all fingers and thumbs as I reach for the zipper, that familiar cocktail of fear and excitement rushing through my veins like a potent spirit. I bask in Dean’s heated gaze, fixed on me as I slowly peel the fabric away and let it pool at my feet.

His sharp intake of breath is audible in the deadly silent room. "Christ, Rhea," he groans, his composure slipping for just a moment. "This dangerous scrap of lace is the best purchase I ever made."

I bite my lip, fighting back a smile. Even in the midst of my impending punishment, it's gratifying to know I can affect him like this. When he speaks again, his voice is back to that commanding tone that makes me straighten my spine on impulse.

"Get on all fours, over the bench," he orders, gesturing to the center of the room.

I move immediately, my heart pounding so hard against my ribs I'm sure Dean must be able to hear it. The wood is cool and smooth beneath my scantily clad torso as I position myself. Dean hums his approval, pacing in a slow circle and drinking in the sight of me bent over and vulnerable.

"Beautiful," he breathes, and despite the slightly uncomfortable position, pride blooms in my chest at his praise. "Now, let's see about teaching you the importance of punctuality, shall we? Hands forward.”

I stretch my arms out, gripping the front legs of the bench as if the anchor might offer me some comfort for what I’m sure is about to be a rough ride. Cool leather encircles my wrists as Dean secures the cuffs, pinning my upper body in place.

He moves to my legs next. I hear the clink of metal and feel the familiar rigidity of a bar between my ankles. Dean adjusts it, spreading my legs wider until it’s almost painful. The position leaves me feeling beyond exposed but incredibly turned on. The things he could do to me splayed out like this…

"Perfect." He sounds like the cat who got the cream as he trails his fingers up the back of my thigh. Then he steps away again, robbing me of the teasing touch.

Soft fabric brushes against my face as he secures the blindfold over my eyes. The world goes dark, and like a switch being flipped, every nerve ending in my body sparks to life. My breath quickens, anticipation building with every second he has me immobilized and completely at his mercy.

"Color?"

"Green," I respond without hesitation.

He chuckles at my obvious eagerness. "Good girl."

I hear him pacing away again, and then there's silence. The expectation is almost unbearable. I strain my ears, trying to figure out where he is, what he's doing.

Suddenly, his fingers are between my legs, teasing along the scalloped edge of my bodysuit. I gasp, jerking involuntarily against my restraints.

"So sensitive," Dean growls appreciatively. "And already so wet for me. You look absolutely delicious like this, kitten. Spread out and ready for whatever I choose to do to you."

His words send a fresh wave of arousal through me. I wish he would just get on with it already, the waiting game is driving me mad. I whimper, pushing back against his hand, seeking more.

"Ah ah," he chides, withdrawing his infuriatingly light touch. "Not yet. You haven't earned that pleasure." He unclips the fastening at my crotch, baring me fully to the cool air of the room. "There’s that pretty little cunt," he murmurs, almost to himself.

I can’t help but squirm a little at the filthy praise, I’ve never been with anyone so vocal. I’ve never been with anyone who would dare utter the depraved things Dean likes to whisper when he toys with me. His fingers return, stroking flirtatiously along my slit until I let a deep moan slip. He has touched me often enough now to know exactly how to drive me crazy, like he’s memorized every inch of me.

Without warning, he plunges two fingers inside me, making me cry out and clench around the sudden intrusion.

"Fuck, I love it when you squeal for me."

He pumps his fingers slowly, building a steady rhythm that has me panting and writhing against my bonds. Just as I start to lose myself in the pleasure, his fingers withdraw. I whine at the loss, but my protest turns into a yelp of surprise as I feel those same fingers, now slick with my arousal, circling my asshole.

"Dean," I gasp, tensing involuntarily.

"Shh," he soothes, his other hand coming to rest on the small of my back. "Relax for me. You know I'll take care of you."

I take a deep breath, trying to will the tension away from every muscle. We've done some anal play before, but he usually gives me more warning before starting the scene. Still, as I told Nat, I trust Dean implicitly.

Slowly, carefully, he works a finger into my ass. As usual, the stretch burns slightly, but it's not unpleasant. As he continues his ministrations, the discomfort fades, replaced by a building heat of the best kind.

"That’s it, my gorgeous girl.” He works me open gradually, adding a second finger when he knows I'm ready. I start to forget the hard discomfort of the bench, the slight ache blooming in my knees and shoulders, until all I can think about is the steady thrust of his fingers into the place only he and his brother have ever been.

But I barely get another minute to enjoy it before he pulls away again. I let out an exasperated huff this time, wondering if all the stopping and starting is part of the punishment. I’m suddenly terrified he could go on like this for hours, working me up before backing away, leaving me desperate, wanting.

"Patience," Dean says, amusement clear in his voice like he can read my every thought. "We're just getting started."

I hear him moving around the room again, then drawers opening and closing, every small sound seeming magnified in my blinded state. My muscles lock up again, tensing against the invisible threat of what he might do. I trust him not to hurt me without warning me first, but I can’t seem to convince my body that he’s not about to lash me with a cane out of nowhere.

Finally, I hear his footsteps approaching once more. There's a pause, and then the unmistakable sound of a bottle being clicked open and squeezed. Lube, I realize. He must have more plans for my ass.

Before I can even conjure an idea for what those plans might be, I feel something cool and hard pressing against that tight ring of muscle. I tense, a small gasp escaping my lips.

"Relax," Dean commands again softly. "Breathe through it."

I force myself to take deep breaths, willing my body to let him in. Dean continues to apply steady pressure with the object—some kind of metal plug, I assume.

"That's it," he encourages. "You're doing so well. Just a little more."

With one final push, the widest part of the foreign object slips past my rim. I whimper at the sudden stretch, wondering if I’ll ever get used to being filled like this.

"Good girl," Dean groans. "Look at you, stuffed full and spread open for me. I could just stare at you all night."

His words send a fresh wave of butterflies sweeping through my stomach. I shift slightly, testing the feel of the plug inside me. It's larger than anything we've used before, the fullness bordering on uncomfortable but not quite crossing that line. What I can’t figure out is why it feels unbalanced, like there’s a weight attached that threatens to pull it right back out.

"How does it feel?" Dean asks, his hand caressing my ass cheek.

"Weird," I manage to gasp out. "So full."

Dean chuckles darkly. "All will become clear soon enough."

Before I can react to that slightly ominous revelation, he’s moving again, his steady stride getting closer to my head until his fingers brush against my neck. "One final touch.”

Something soft and leathery encircles my throat. A collar, I gather with a jolt of excitement. Dean adjusts it carefully, making sure it's snug but not too tight.

"How's that feel?" he asks.

I swallow, testing the sensation. "Fine. Good.”

"Excellent."

His fingers continue pulling and probing, fiddling with something at the back of my neck until I feel a gentle tug.

At the same time, I feel a corresponding tug in my ass. I gulp, testing the motion a few more times before realizing what Dean has done. He's connected the collar to the plug somehow, every time I move my head, it pulls on the other end.

"Figured it out, clever girl?" Dean asks, and I can practically hear his smug grin. "That's right. I've threaded a rope through the ring on your collar and attached it to the anal hook. You’re well and truly trussed up for me now. Movement is gonna be pretty difficult from here on.”

To demonstrate, he gently pushes my head forward, lower than I dared to, until the movement causes the hook to pull tightly against my asshole.

"Oh, God," I whimper.

“Oh, God, indeed,” he chuckles. “Now, for your punishment."

This isn’t it? What more could he possibly have planned?

I hear him backing away, followed by the door opening.

"Dean?" I call out, a hint of panic bleeding into my voice.

"Take some time to think, Rhea," he responds, sounding entirely too distant for my liking. "Think about the importance of being on time."

The door clicks shut, leaving me alone in stunned silence.

For a moment, I can't quite believe what's happening.

Surely, he's not actually leaving me here like this?

But as the seconds tick by with no sound of his return, the reality of my situation sinks in. I'm alone. Blindfolded, bound, and plugged, with no idea how long Dean intends to leave me here.

At first, I try to stay as still as possible, not wanting to pull at the tether between the collar and the plug. But as time passes, small movements become inevitable. Each shift sends a jolt through me, a constant reminder of my hopeless predicament.

It doesn’t take long for my brain to tie itself in knots, trying to gauge how much time has passed. It feels like hours, but logically, I know it can't have been that long. Still, with no visual cues and no way to check the time, each minute stretches into eternity.

Part of me wishes he had chosen a different punishment. A spanking, or even a whipping—anything that would be over quickly. This drawn-out isolation is far more degrading than I could have known. Then again, if Dean has heard anything from Ethan, he'd know that I might enjoy a whipping too much for it to truly be a punishment.

As more time passes, serious discomfort begins to set in. My knees ache from being left on all fours. The stretch in my shoulders from having my arms extended forward is becoming more noticeable. Even the plug, which had been pleasurable at first, now feels like an unwelcome intrusion.

But worse than the physical discomfort is the emotional impact. Being left alone like this, vulnerable and exposed, is a harsh reminder that I disappointed him. My ego, usually bolstered by Dean's attention and praise, feels thoroughly bruised.

I try to distract myself by replaying some of our more enjoyable scenes in my head, but even that fails to hold my attention for long. My world has narrowed down to this room, this moment, this lesson my Dom wants to teach me.

Just when I think I can't take it anymore, when I'm about to call out my safe word—and pray to God that Dean hears it, wherever he is—I hear the door open again.

“How’s my little fucktoy feeling?” Dean’s footsteps move leisurely across the room as if he’s in absolutely no rush to put me out of my misery.

“Punished,” I grumble, though I don’t dare let the full weight of my indignation bleed into my tone. Heaven knows, he’d take that as an excuse to drag this out a little longer. “I’m feeling well and truly punished.”

He lets slip a deep chuckle, still circling me with that agonizingly slow pace. “I’d love to tell you it’s all over now, but you look so damn pretty all tied up like this…I don’t think I want it to end just yet. You have no idea how much self-control it took to stay behind that window and leave you untouched for so long.”

Window? What does he…? Oh… the mirror.

I fight not to audibly grind my teeth. It’s as if my body can’t decide if I’m feeling irritated by this torment, thoroughly humbled, or achingly aroused. A warm hand traces the swell of my ass, squeezing slightly, and I can’t help the hopeful moan that rises from my chest. I hungrily push back into Dean’s palm, but the movement makes the hook tug inside me, and I yelp as it presses deeper.

"Someone's eager.” He answers my wanton squirming with a sharp smack, I can already picture the scarlet mark he’ll have left behind. "Have you learned your lesson, kitten? About making me wait?"

"Yes," I sigh. My skin burns wherever he touches, the waiting game kicking my desperation into a whole other gear. With a boldness that I don’t quite recognize in myself, I add, "Maybe...maybe we could move on to the fun part now?"

Dean’s laugh is louder this time, and I can’t tell if he’s pleasantly surprised by my bravery or planning some new horror to remind me who’s in charge. His roaming fingers disappear for a moment, until a hand suddenly cups my chin and tilts my face up. His thumb traces my bottom lip, "You think you deserve some fun?"

"Please," I whisper, whinier than I intended. "I'm sorry I was late. I'll be so good for you."

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." Dean's hold tightens slightly on my jaw. "What do you think, bro? Should we give her what she wants?"

Wait… Ethan is here?

"Seems only fair," a second voice drawls, coming from somewhere near the door. I hear him moving closer, the presence of both in the room making my nerves prickle with excitement. "She's taken her punishment like a good girl. I certainly have a few ideas for how to reward her."

Dean's hand slides down to grip my throat, just firm enough to make my pulse jump. "Would you like that? Having both of us play with you at once?"

Almost drooling at the suggestion, I nod frantically, hissing a little when the motion wreaks havoc on my ass. "Yes, please. I want that so much."

"Tell us how bad you want it," Dean commands, tightening his fingers until my breath comes in short pants. "Tell us exactly what you need."

Heat floods my cheeks, but I force the words out. "I want to feel both of you. Please, I've been thinking about it since...since that night in my apartment. When you both came over. I want you both inside me, using me, making me take it all."

"Have you now? Such a greedy little slut."

He releases my throat, and I hear the distinct sound of his zipper lowering. "I’m not quite finished with your punishment, but maybe Ethan could get started on your reward while you show me what that pretty mouth can do. Is that the kind of fun you had in mind? Want to choke on my cock while my brother plays with your needy cunt?"

"God, yes," I groan, already parting my lips. My tongue darts out to wet them. "I want to taste you."

I feel the hot press of his cock against my tongue, already rock hard and leaking. Just the knowledge that he’s so turned on is enough to make me think I could stay tied up like this for hours. If it pleased him, I’m sure I could do it.

"Open wide for me. Remind me what a good little cocksucker you are."

I obey eagerly, moaning around him as he slides deep into my mouth. The familiar taste of him sets off an instant throbbing between my thighs. Thankfully, Ethan is right where I need him, swiping over my clit so expertly my eyes roll back beneath the blindfold.

"Fuck, she's dripping," he practically purrs, pushing his fingers inside me. "You really do love being used like this, don't you, little one?”

I can only hum my agreement as Dean starts to fuck my mouth in earnest, his tight grip having moved from my jaw to my hair. Ethan's clever fingers work me higher, alternating between curling deep inside me and teasing my clit until my tired legs are shaking uncontrollably. Being filled at both ends while still having the hook in my ass has me teetering on the edge embarrassingly quickly.

"That's it," Dean growls above me. "Take it all like a good little whore. Choke on it."

My jaw aches but I hollow my cheeks, sucking him harder while he hits the back of my throat again and again. Drool leaks from the corners of my mouth but I don't care - I just want to please him. Ethan adds another finger, and I rock back desperately, chasing more friction despite my awkward position. Despite my aching knees.

"Just look at her," Ethan chuckles. "She's fucking herself on my fingers while she swallows your cock. Such a desperate little fucktoy."

The degradation makes me moan louder, rock faster, tears leaking from beneath the blindfold now. I've never felt so used, so completely owned. It's everything I've been craving from them both.

Almost too soon for my liking, Dean's hips stutter and the salty taste of cum coats my tongue. His fingers tighten painfully in my hair as he pushes deep, holding me there as hot spurts hit the back of my throat. I throw all my focus into not gagging as I swallow hungrily around him, basking in his guttural groan of satisfaction.

" Fuck, you’re so good at that, baby," he pants, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. His hands then quickly find the collar at my throat, finally loosening the tension on the hook. The relief is immediate, though I'm achingly aware of how stretched I still feel, and how unsatisfied.

Ethan's fingers don’t relent as I gulp down all the air I can get. "She’s getting close," he murmurs in that quietly nonchalant way that’s so easy to distinguish from his teasing twin. "Should we let her come?"

"Not yet," Dean says, and I groan in protest. I feel myself clench desperately around Ethan's fingers, trying so hard to hold back my climax so that I don’t earn another punishment.

He chuckles quietly, “Whatever you’re gonna do, you better do it soon. I don’t know if she can hold out much longer.” His fingers slow their pace but don't stop entirely, keeping me right on the edge. The deliberate denial makes my whole body shake with need.

“My needy little toy deserves a good fucking. I want to see how many times we can make her come on our cocks. Feel free to get started, I’ll be ready for a turn in a minute or two.”

I have to hand it to him, Dean knows exactly how to rile me up to the verge of insanity. Of course, he’s withholding my orgasms just so he can wring as many as possible out of me on his own command.

It’s always about the control.

“Not a bad idea,” Ethan drawls, still teasing me with his fingers. “But why take turns? This little asshole is so beautifully prepped already.”

Why take turns…?

That does it. My mind goes completely blank. My heart kicks into overdrive. I can’t tell if I’m about to pass out or have a coronary or see nirvana. Stupid, na?ve, little Rhea . When I said I wanted both inside me, I was imagining that lovely little spit roast situation we almost had going there—if only Ethan had gotten bored of waiting and thrust his way inside me while Dean was still in my mouth.

But that’s not what he’s talking about.

“I don’t know if she’s ready for that…” Dean still stands sentinel by my head, stroking his fingers over my tear-streaked cheek as he deliberates. “What do you say, kitten? You wanna feel what it’s like to be stuffed with both of us at the same time? Is that the little fantasy you’ve been dreaming of?”

I don’t answer right away. I don’t know how to. In truth, I hadn’t considered it. But now Dean has suggested I’m not ready, that traitorous little pleaser inside me is desperate to prove him wrong. Prove to them both that I can take it, that I can satisfy their every desire.

I want to be perfect for them.

"Don’t feel pressured. It's a lot. Maybe we should wait..." Dean’s tone is teasing, testing my reaction when I’ve taken just a little too long to make up my mind.

"No!" The protest bursts from my lips before I can stop it, needy and frantic. "Please, I can take it. I want to try. Please let me prove it to you."

"Such an eager little thing," Ethan drawls, gently pulling the anal hook out of me. "Listen to you, begging to be stuffed full of cock.” The sudden emptiness feels bizarre for only a second before Ethan’s fingers are back. This time he plunges one into each of my holes, giving me just a little taste of what it’s like to have both filled at once.

"Please," I sigh, pushing back against his hand. "Please, I need more."

Dean scoffs a little sound of amused disbelief as he bends to unfasten the cuffs around my wrists. "Last chance to back out. Once we start, you're going to take everything we give you. Every. Last. Inch."

"I want it," I insist Ethan he frees my ankles next, pulling his fingers out of me and bringing back that infuriating empty feeling. When he pulls me upright, my legs are screaming from being bound so long. But the fresh excitement has flooded my system with an almost overwhelming wave of arousal, soothing every little ache until my blood is thrumming with just pleasure.

The blindfold comes off last, and I blink against the fluorescent light, my damp eyes taking a moment to adjust. The image of Dean slowly swims into focus in front of me. He’s peeling off his clothes piece by piece, his cock already hardening again despite having just cum down my throat. The sight of him makes my mouth water. I've never seen him fully nude before, he blindfolds me at the start of all of our scenes, and never takes it off until we’re through. I’m not even sure he’s ever fully stripped any of the times he’s been inside me.

The man is a wet dream. Broad shoulders, rippling muscles down his torso, a deliciously deep V carved right to the apex of his thighs. Unsurprisingly, he’s the mirror image of his twin. The only difference between them is the dark ink that swirls across Ethan’s chest. That’s the body I’ve been picturing each time Dean has stolen my vision. Instead, he stands before me like an ancient statue, pale and pristine.

Ethan releases my arms when it’s clear I’m not about to topple over and I hear the rustle of clothing as he presumably strips behind me. For a few seconds, I’d forgotten he was here. This moment of looking right at Dean for the first time while we’re both bare to each other—being able to look him in those crystalline eyes—feels significant somehow. It feels as if we’ve been building up to it all these weeks he’s kept himself hidden from me.

Dean's eyes are hooded with lust as he looks down at me, considering. His hand cups my cheek again, thumb brushing over my swollen lips. "On the loveseat," he decides finally, nodding to the furniture against the wall behind him before moving to sit on the plush velvet surface. His cock stands proud against his stomach as he beckons me over, pre-cum already beading at the tip. "Come to me."

Dean spreads his thighs wider as I approach, and I can't help but stare at the perfect planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his abs, and the thick length of him waiting for me. For maybe the hundredth time in only a few weeks, I can barely believe my luck. How is it that I find myself indulging in not one, but two of the most breathtaking men I’ve ever seen? I chew on my lip as I enjoy the sight of him sprawled before me. I feel as if I’ve been starving my whole life, and now I’m faced with a feast I could only ever dream of devouring.

"Straddle me," Dean commands, and I obey eagerly, almost leaping into his lap. His hands grip my hips as he chuckles, positioning me just right. “Are you sure about this, kitten?” he murmurs, for my ears only. “We can stop any time. Just say the word."

"I'm sure," I breathe, reaching between us to wrap my hand around his length. He's hot and hard in my palm as I stroke him, big enough to make any girl pause for a bracing breath. And somehow, I’m going to take his twin at the same time.

"Such a good girl." He pulls me down for a searing kiss, our first without restraints or blindfolds. His tongue sweeps into my mouth possessively as I line myself up, sinking down slowly onto him until my sore ass hits his thighs.

The stretch is divine, this new position something we haven’t done before. I always assumed that having me on top felt like too much of a loss of control to both twins, their dominant natures urging them to always have me beneath them or tied down in some way. I roll my hips experimentally, taking him deeper, drawing a groan from Dean's throat. His hands guide my movements as I start to ride him, lost in the marvel of finally being able to watch him while I do it. Every flex of his abs, every clench of his jaw, every flash of pleasure in his eyes drives me wild.

The way he watches me back has my heart stuttering for some reason other than the physical exertion. Ethan doesn’t look at me like this. Ethan looks at me with desire and hunger. But Dean… I could almost convince myself that it’s actual longing that I see there in his intense gaze. It makes me wonder what he might catch in mine.

"Ready for more?" Ethan startles me with his approach. It should be completely impossible for me to forget that they’re both here, and yet there I go again, getting lost in this unfamiliar intimacy with Dean. I feel his hands on my ass, spreading me wide before something cool and slick drips between my cheeks. Ethan’s fingers circle my stretched hole, adding more pressure, testing me one more time. "Time to stuff this greedy ass full too."

"Yes," I moan, pressing my face into Dean's neck as Ethan's fingers probe my ass again, working me open further. "Please, I'm ready. I want to feel you both inside me."

"Look at me, Rhea," Dean demands, curling his fingers under my chin. His eyes lock with mine again as Ethan positions himself behind me, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my ass. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see everything you're feeling. Show me how much you love being our little fucktoy."

Ethan’s first slow thrust steals my breath away. Even with all the prepping, the stretch is intense, deliciously overwhelming as he works himself deeper inch by careful inch. Dean holds my gaze, his other hand gripping my hip to keep me still while his brother breaches me.

"That's it," Ethan growls behind me, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks. "You're doing so well, stretching around both our cocks."

I gasp as he pushes deeper, the sensation of being filled in both holes making my vision almost white out entirely. Dean's cock throbs inside me as Ethan's length forces its way in, making everything feel impossibly tight. Tears spring to my eyes but I don't dare look away from Dean's intense stare.

"Oh God!" I scream out as Ethan bottoms out, his hips flush against my ass, his lips brushing my neck. "Oh God, it's so much."

"You love it though, don't you?" Ethan's breath is hot against my sweat-slicked skin as he starts to move, shallow thrusts that are too much and somehow not enough at the same time.

" Fuck , yes!" The curse comes out as a desperate cry, sounding so foreign on my tongue. It occurs to me for a split second that I’ll have to tell Nat what it was that finally prompted me to employ the vulgar language I’d so stoutly refused in the past.

My whole body trembles as the twins begin to find their rhythm, working me between them like an expertly choreographed dance. Dean captures my lips again as they pick up the pace, pounding into me in alternating strokes that never leave me empty. The stretch burns in the best way as they take turns pushing deep, using my holes for their pleasure. I'm completely at their mercy, helplessly impaled by them both.

"Look how well she takes it," Ethan groans, one hand snaking around to tease my nipple. "So perfect."

The added stimulation makes me moan, clenching around them both. Dean breaks the kiss to watch my face as pleasure overwhelms me.

"Please," I beg, barely able to string a couple of coherent words together. "Please, I need..."

"Need to come, baby?" Dean's grip tightens almost painfully on my hip. "Need to come with both our cocks stuffing you?"

"Yes!" I'm almost sobbing now as they pound into me relentlessly. "Please let me come."

"Come for us then," Dean commands. "Show us what a good little whore you are. Milk our cocks with these tight holes."

The permission is all I need. I shatter completely, every fiber of my being seizing and melting as my mouth drops open on a silent scream. I can barely draw breath, let alone make a sound as the climax puts me back together and breaks me apart over and over again. Through it all, Dean holds my gaze, watching every second of my release with rapt fascination.

"Fuck," Ethan growls, his thrusts faltering. "She's so tight when she comes. I’ll fill this ass up..."

"Do it," Dean growls, his own hips snapping up harder until I’m sure I’ll have fresh bruises on the inside of my thighs. "Show her who she belongs to."

Ethan slams deep one final time and I feel his cock pulse as he empties himself in my ass. Dean follows seconds later, flooding me with his second release while his head drops back on a guttural moan.

For a long moment we stay like that, all three of us panting and trembling. My back is plastered to Ethan’s chest and Dean’s grip is still firmly holding my hips. Eventually, Ethan seems to float back down to earth, and he pulls out slowly. I feel his load trickle down my thighs as he steps back, the sensation so satisfyingly dirty.

"Such a good girl," Dean purrs, pulling me against his smooth chest. His cock is still buried inside me, softening gradually. "You took that so well for us."

"I’m so proud of you, little one," Ethan agrees, his fingertips stroking down my spine. As usual, his touch turns gentle now, soothing rather than possessive.

Completely drained, I go limp in Dean's arms, my face resting in the crook of his neck. His heartbeat thunders against my own as his hands trace lazy paths up and down my thighs. Every muscle in my body feels like jelly, pleasantly used and aching.

His lips find my shoulder, pressing soft kisses up and along the column of my throat. "Our beautiful girl," he murmurs against my skin, making my stomach flutter traitorously. Every gentle touch, every soft word of praise washes over me like warm honey.

In this moment, cradled between them as they tend to me with such reverence, I realize I never want to leave this spot. I could stay here forever, safe and cherished between them as their perfect submissive. Nothing else matters—just this feeling of complete belonging.

Only, I can’t afford to think like that. This is just supposed to be playtime. Once we leave this room, I’m supposed to hold onto nothing more than the excitement to play again. But something in my chest is betraying me. Something that took root the moment I looked into Dean’s eyes and saw more than just carnal hunger.

Hell, if I’m honest with myself, it took root a long while before that.

I’m just not sure I can trust what I think I’m seeing…

And I don’t dare to ask.