Chapter 29 Willow #3
“Never again,” he mutters, thrusting his fingers in even deeper. “Never pull that kind of shit again.”
He doesn’t let up, fucking me with his fingers hard and fast. I can barely breathe, my face pressed against the mattress, and I work my hips back, urging him on even more.
I feel him draw back a little, his fingers still buried inside me, and then his free hand comes down—hard—on my bare ass.
“Fuck!” I nearly scream, caught off guard by the sudden burst of pain.
“I’m not fucking kidding, Solnyshka.” He spanks me again, hard enough that it sends a jolt of pain all the way through me. “Do you understand?”
I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a needy whine. It hurts, and I know I’m going to have marks on my ass, but I also want more. My head is spinning, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring more and more.
“You risked yourself,” Malice says, bringing his hand down again. “You tried to use yourself as a fucking sacrifice for us.” Another spank. “And you didn’t even tell us.” Another.
“I’m sorry!” I sob. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I just wanted—I couldn’t let her—”
I shake my head, overwhelmed and choked up by the emotions coursing through me.
Malice brings his hand down once more, harder than all the rest, and I do scream then, my pussy clenching around his fingers.
It hurts, my ass one solid mass of burning pain, but it also feels so fucking good. I have to remind myself to breathe, my body throbbing from all the different sensations. This is half punishment and half something else, something deeper and more overwhelming. Something we both need.
When he pulls his fingers out of me, I whine pitifully, desperate for more.
Malice is breathing hard behind me, and I hear him fumbling with his belt and pants. There’s a split second warning, the feeling of his smooth crown pressing against me, and then he’s plunging into my pussy, ramming his cock home.
If I wasn’t already face down on the bed, I definitely would have collapsed from that. An intense wave of pleasure courses through me, punching the air from my lungs and making my muscles tighten.
His cock is so much bigger than my fingers or even his, and I can feel him stretching my inner walls, filling me up completely.
He grabs my hips and starts fucking me, setting a punishing rhythm that rocks me on the bed. His fingers bite into my skin, and I hope they leave marks behind.
I want to be able to see them in the morning.
To remember this.
Not that there’s any chance of forgetting. Malice fucks me like he’s trying to prove a point, pummeling into my pussy as if he’s holding absolutely nothing back. The sound of skin slapping skin is loud in the room, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt him get this deep before.
All I can do is take it, my wrists bound by the garter, not even trying to hold back the moans and pleas that spill out of my mouth.
It’s like he’s branding me with his cock, making sure that my body—and anyone who might think to touch me—knows that it belongs to him and his brothers.
He fists a hand in the skirt of the dress and uses it like a harness, lifting my hips even more. He tugs on it sharply, hauling me back into each powerful thrust as our bodies meet again and again.
“No one can ever give you what we can,” Malice grunts. “No one. You’ll never feel this good with anyone else. Will you?”
He punctuates those words with another snap of his hips, and my pussy grips his cock like it's trying to keep him from ever leaving.
“No! Fuck!” I sob, tears spilling down my cheeks and soaking into the mattress underneath my cheek. “No one, Malice, please! I can’t—”
“Yes, you fucking can,” he counters. “You can take it. You can take every fucking thing we give you. You were made for it, Solnyshka. You were made to take my cock.”
“He’s right about that,” someone murmurs behind us, and I realize with a jolt that those last words didn’t come from Malice.
They came from Ransom.
He comes around to the other side of the bed, and I can feel him watching as Malice keeps fucking me.
My entire body flushes, because I know what I must look like right now. My hands bound behind me, my face in the sheets, my ass burning bright red from being spanked.
I can only see Ransom out of the corner of my eye, but knowing he’s in the room too adds another layer to all of this, making it even more intense.
Malice leans over me, his body pressing me down. His voice is low in my ear, and I shudder as the rough sound of it pushes me even closer to the edge.
“Look at him,” he growls. “Look my brother right in the eye and come. Come for us. Let him see everything.”
He fists one hand in my hair, yanking me upright. I cry out at the pain and pleasure of it, and Ransom’s blue-green gaze is right there, cutting through me as Malice keeps fucking into me.
Ransom grins. His expression is less angry than Malice’s was, but I can see the same fierce emotions lurking behind his eyes, and it almost takes my breath away.
Malice plunges into me again, and that’s enough to spark my orgasm. It roars through me, hot and undeniable. I can barely breathe, can barely think, and my vision swims as I fall apart, coming in wave after wave of pleasure.
My mouth is open, and I realize that the high, keening noise in the room is coming from me, wailing my pleasure as I fall apart piece by piece.
Behind me, Malice keeps pumping, not letting up until he’s swearing thickly and coming himself, filling me up.
I gasp for breath, but Malice isn’t done with me yet. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling my back flush against his chest, still buried deep inside me.
“Ransom is gonna come on your tits now,” he pants. “Right on this fucking dress. He’s gotta lay his claim too.”
I moan thickly, my gaze darting to his brother. Without hesitation, Ransom moves closer, climbing onto the bed with us and shoving down his pants at the same time.
Even though I’m exhausted, the sight of his cock makes my mouth water, and I follow his movements with my gaze as he jerks himself off.
He looks so fucking good like this, eyes narrowed, head tipped back and eyebrow ring flashing.
His neck muscles strain as his hand flies over his cock, and it doesn’t take long before his hips jerk, sticky jets of his cum spurting all over the front of my dress.
Marking me, just like Malice said.
Malice’s hand tangles in my hair, and he tilts my head to the side a little. His lips find the curve of my jaw, and he presses a kiss there, his breath warm against my skin.
“Jeto ubilo by menja, esli by ja poterjal tebja. Ja chert voz’mi, zhit’ ne mogu bez tebya, Solnyshka,” he whispers hoarsely.
My head sags back against his shoulder, my body going boneless as all the emotions from our fight drain out of me.
Malice finally drags his cock out of me, laying me down on the mattress, and I close my eyes, limp and exhausted.
I can hear the two of them murmuring to each other, but I can barely focus on their words.
My wrists are unbound, and calloused hands rub at them, getting the blood flowing again and checking on my stitches.
“You alright?” Malice asks, a touch of gruff concern in his voice. I know he worries about being too rough with me, and I nod, blinking blearily up at him.
“Yeah. Are you?”
His eyes are still stormy, but they look different now, like the dark gray color of thunderclouds rolling away in the distance.
“I will be,” he says.
Strong arms scoop me up, pulling me farther up on the bed, and I find myself held between the two of them. It’s a surprisingly gentle moment after such a rough fuck, but I feel so much better than I did before.
Ransom strokes my hair, and Malice tucks himself in against my back, a line of protection and strength. His hand rests possessively on my hip, and even though I can’t help but dread what our future will hold, I know that in this moment…
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.