Chapter Eight
Skye
A hand covers my mouth, and a heavy weight pins me against my bed. Instinct takes over before my brain can catch up. I thrash, kicking beneath the sheets, my screams muffled behind his palm. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I try to twist, but his body is solid, pinning me down with ease.
“Calm down,” he growls, but it’s distorted through the modulator in his mask.
At once the tension drains from my body. I stop fighting and still.
“That’s better,” he murmurs, and before I can react, he flips me onto my stomach. My cheek hits the pillow, and my legs spread automatically as he yanks the blankets down.
His hand moves down my back, his fingers skimming my spine slowly.
That is until he slips them between my legs, then he slides them deep inside me.
I gasp into the pillow, the stretch of his fingers stealing my breath.
He fucks me with them like he’s testing exactly how ready I am for him.
The answer is obvious—I’m soaked, dripping down his hand.
The sound of a zipper is all I hear before, a second later, he thrusts into me hard. I scream, the sound bursting from my lungs, but he presses my head deeper into the pillow, muffling me.
Oh shit, he feels ribbed! He . . . has his cock pierced.
Then a second man steps out from the corner of my room, and I gasp as the glow of his mask turns on.
“Has anyone ever fucked you in the ass before?” the first man asks, but I can’t take my eyes off the other man as he moves closer.
“No,” I answer honestly.
“He is going to come on your ass, and then I am going to use it to finger your hole while I fuck you.”
The second masked man undoes the zipper on his pants.
Behind me, the first man yanks the elastic from my hair. My scalp prickles as his fingers tighten in the strands, and he wraps them around his fist. He jerks my head back until my eyes are forced up, my throat stretched tight.
“Look at his cock,” he says. “See how hard he is for you? You did that. You’re his obsession.”
The man in front of me draws his thick, hard cock out, and his fingers wrap around the base. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow.
“Thank him,” the man behind me growls. “He saw you first. He chose you. And now he’s sharing you with me.”
My lips part on a gasp. I have never been vocal during sex; it’s always been a means to an end. To get off before they do. “Thank you for noticing me.”
He doesn’t speak, just moves closer until the tip of his cock brushes my lower lip. I keep my eyes on his mask while the man behind me tightens his grip on my hair, keeping my head back and at their mercy.
“Open your mouth,” he says.
I do.
The man in front of me strokes himself slowly, his head bent, so I know he is watching me.
He doesn’t let me take him in my mouth as he works his shaft, but remains close enough that the tip of his cock keeps brushing against my parted lips.
The man behind me begins slow thrusts in and out, teasing me, making me need more.
Before I can beg for just that, the man in front moves, and I feel him spill on my lower back. His cum drips down my ass, then fingers slide through the mess, and I can’t hold back my moan.
“Fuck,” the man behind me growls. “You’re a filthy mess now. Just the way I like it.”
He uses his fingers to smear the other man’s cum between my cheeks. My entire body goes rigid. It feels so wrong, yet so good at the same time, when his finger pushes inside. I whimper as the pressure makes my hips jerk forward, and my hands grab the sheets.
“You feel that?” he rasps. “That’s him, inside you already. And now I get to fuck you while you’re dripping.”
He doesn’t give me time to answer or even think. He pulls back and slams his cock inside me while pushing his finger into my ass. A strangled sound tears from my throat. His grip on my hair holds me in place, forcing me to take every inch of him, and I do. I take it all.
My mind spins, and words spill from my lips that don’t sound like me.
“Come for him,” the man behind me growls, thrusting so deep everything around me blurs. “Show him how fucking stunning you look as you come.”
I look up at the man watching me silently.
He hasn’t said a word, but he hasn’t looked away either—not once.
I can’t see his face, but I can feel the intensity of his stare.
The pressure builds fast, and though I try to hold back, to delay the inevitable, my body betrays me.
My legs shake, and when he thrusts again, so fucking deep and brutal, I come hard.
It rips through me like a cyclone, making my back arch, and my scream is muffled by the pillow as the man drives into me, over and over, so deep I’ll feel it for days. And the whole time, the silent one watches.
I’m still coming down from the high when the man inside me groans and slams into me one last time. His weight collapses onto my back as a whispered curse slips from his lips.
I flinch when he lifts off me, and my skin is sticky now that I’m exposed to the cool air.
Then he’s there, the silent one. He crouches beside me, one hand braced on the mattress.
The other presses a towel to my skin, and he wipes away the mess.
He’s gentle, like he’s memorizing every inch of me.
And finally, he speaks, his voice distorted through the modulator.
“You’re mine,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Signing the contract sealed your fate.”
He stands as I lie there, my body wrecked. They both move toward the door, but one of them pauses, turning his head back to face me.
“Make sure you look over your shoulder, little obsession,” he warns, his voice low and distorted. “You never know when one of us will be there. You belong to us now. And obsessions like his?” He nods his head toward his friend. “They don’t go away, only fester, and nothing good comes from that.”
Then they’re gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.