Chapter Four #2
Ryker watches me from the leather armchair off to the side, looking like some kind of dark prince.
His dark sleeves are rolled up, exposing the thorny, barbed-wire artwork climbing his forearms. Aiden is sprawled out on one end of the sectional, his long legs stretched in front of him, relaxed and at ease.
Ash sits on the opposite cushion, posture upright, looking calm.
Ryker leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So,” he says, his raspy voice cutting to the point of the matter. “Have you made your decision?”
I swallow hard. My throat feels like sandpaper. I’m walking into this with my eyes wide open. I want this, or at least, I want the escape and the thrill this offers more than I want to go back home and live a lie.
“Yes,” I say. My voice cracks a little, so I clear my throat and try again, firmer this time. “I agree to your terms.”
Ryker gives a single, acknowledging nod.
He doesn’t look surprised in the slightest. “Good. We’ll start with a month.
Think of it as a trial period for everyone to figure out if this actually works for us.
During that month, you’ll sleep with one of us each night.
We alternate, and we decide who gets you. ”
He holds my gaze, making sure I absorb the reality of his words. “You’ll do as you’re told, Jaxon. Your body belongs to the three of us now. If this arrangement is going to function, I expect obedience and submission from you.”
I nod, my heart hammering against my ribs. Submission. The word bounces around in my skull. I’ve been conditioned for that, submitting to my parents, to the church, to rules I hated. But this is different. This is my choice. I’m choosing to give them the control.
“In return,” Ryker continues, his voice leveling out, “you live here rent-free. Everything you need is handled. When you’re ready to enroll, we cover your classes. Clothes, food, a car if you want one to get around town. Whatever you need or want, you ask us, and it’s yours.”
I blink, trying to wrap my head around it. A car? Paid tuition? It sounds like a fantasy. A dangerous, seductive fantasy. These guys are offering to bankroll my entire life.
“But understand this,” Ryker says, his blue eyes narrowing to emphasize his point.
“Your consent is always part of this. Nobody in this house will ever do anything you don’t agree to.
We aren’t monsters, and you aren’t a captive.
But you do need to prove you’re willing to commit to what we’re asking.
And the dynamic between the three of us is equal.
No one of us has more claim over you than the others. ”
“I understand,” I say quietly.
“One more thing,” Ryker adds, leaning back into the leather chair. “The safe word in this house is purple.”
I frown, thrown off by the sudden shift in topic. “Why purple?”
Aiden grins from the couch, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Look around, man. Nobody here owns anything purple. It’s never going to come up accidentally in normal conversation.”
A short, surprised laugh bursts out of my mouth. Ash smiles warmly at me from his spot on the couch. Even Ryker’s stern expression softens a fraction, the sharp lines of his jaw relaxing.
Then Ryker ruins the brief moment of comfort. His gaze drops down my body, sweeping over the clothes Ash lent me earlier, before coming back up to my face. “Alright. Let’s see if you mean it. Strip.”
My stomach bottoms out. I stare at him, certain I misheard him. “Right now?”
“Right here, right now,” Ryker says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “In front of all three of us. We need to see what we’re being offered, don’t you think?”
My mouth goes bone dry. A wave of heat rushes up my neck.
I glance over at Ash, silently asking for some kind of reprieve.
Ash gives me a small, reassuring nod. He isn’t pressuring me, but he isn’t stepping in to save me either.
He’s letting me make the choice. I look at Aiden next.
He just watches me with his chin propped on his hand, curious and patient, a faint, encouraging smirk on his lips.
They’re waiting.
I swallow hard and reach for the hem of the soft t-shirt. My fingers tremble slightly. I grip the fabric, pull it over my head, and toss it onto the floor. Cool air prickles my bare skin, but I feel like I’m burning up. My face is on fire.
I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my sweatpants.
I hesitate. It’s one thing to say yes to a wild idea, but doing it under the scrutiny of three guys is different.
My heart beats so fast I feel it in my throat.
I push the sweatpants down over my hips and step out of them, leaving them in a puddle around my ankles.
I stand there in just my boxers, my arms stiff at my sides. Three pairs of eyes are pinned to me. Ryker raises a dark brow and glances pointedly at the cotton covering my groin. He doesn’t say a word, but the silent command is loud enough.
I exhale a shaky breath through my nose as I reach for the waistband of the boxers. I push them down, kick them aside, and leave myself bare.
I stand naked in front of them, my cheeks flaming, my jaw clenched.
I force my hands to stay at my sides. Every instinct in my brain urges me to cross my arms, to cover myself, to hide, but I fight the urge.
I’ve never been naked in front of anyone like this.
Growing up, modesty was drilled into me like a religion of its own.
Showing skin was a sin, a moral failing.
Now I’m standing bare in a living room while three men dissect every inch of my body.
Ryker’s gaze is slow and thorough. He traces every line of my body from my chest down to my thighs, leaving a phantom trail of heat.
He looks at me like a big cat examining a very appealing meal, his eyes lingering on my hips and the soft dusting of hair on my stomach.
Aiden tilts his head, his dark eyes trailing over me appreciatively, making no secret of his approval.
He bites his bottom lip, a spark of interest lighting up his features.
Ash’s eyes are warmer, but just as focused, taking me in with a quiet, lingering attention that makes my toes curl into the rug.
I feel exposed. Vulnerable. My skin prickles with a strange, buzzing electricity under their combined focus. The room is so quiet that I can hear my own breathing, shallow and fast. They’re looking at me like I belong to them already.
Ryker pushes off the arms of his leather chair. He crosses the space between us, stopping so close his toes almost brush my bare feet. I have to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes.
“Good,” Ryker murmurs. The gravelly, rough sound of his voice shivers over my bare skin. “Get on your knees.”
My breath catches. I know what’s coming. My pulse hammers against my ribs, making me dizzy with a mix of fear and adrenaline. I fold my legs and lower myself to the floor, my knees sinking into the soft rug.
Looking up from this angle, Ryker looks like a god damn mountain.
He reaches for his belt. The metallic clink of the buckle undoing cuts through the silence, followed by the hiss of his zipper going down.
He pushes the denim and the dark cotton boxer briefs beneath down his hips, pulling his cock free.
I just stare. I’ve never been this close to another guy like this before.
It’s imposing, long and angry-looking, the dark skin stretched tight over a broad, blunt head, roped with prominent veins.
It looks weighty, demanding. My hands hover awkwardly in the air.
I don’t know where to put them, don’t know how to start or what to do with my mouth.
My mind spins, scrambling for any reference point from the limited, clumsy encounters I had with girls in college, but none of it applies here.
Ryker doesn’t wait for me to figure it out. He steps closer, crowding my space, and threads his fingers into my hair. His grip is firm and uncompromising, yanking my head forward and guiding my face to his crotch.
I part my lips, taking the broad head into my mouth.
I’m in way over my head. The taste of him floods my tongue, salty and musky, carrying a tang of sweat and clean skin.
The girth of him forces my jaw open painfully wide.
He fills my mouth up to the back of my throat, pressing against my gag reflex, and a choked, desperate sound escapes me.
My stomach heaves in a violent gag. I try to pull back, instinctively trying to get away, but Ryker’s grip in my hair tightens, holding my head locked in place. He doesn’t back off. Instead, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing deeper into my mouth.
Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I can’t breathe.
My hands fly up, slapping against his muscular thighs to brace myself, my fingers digging desperately into his jeans.
Ryker starts moving, setting a punishing, unforgiving pace that I can barely keep up with.
He pumps his hips, using my mouth like a wet hole, dragging his cock in and out over my tongue and teeth without giving me a second to adjust to the stretch.
My jaw aches with every thrust. Saliva pools in my mouth and leaks from my parted lips, running down my chin and dripping onto my bare chest. My throat burns as he keeps bottoming out against my tonsils.
Wet, sloppy smacking sounds echo through the living room, mixing with my muffled, sputtering chokes.
I catch a glimpse of Aiden out of the corner of my blurred vision, leaning forward on the couch with a dark, hungry look in his eyes, watching Ryker fuck my mouth.
I’m a mess of spit, tears, and snot, kneeling on the rug with two guys watching me gag on their roommate’s dick. I want the floor to swallow me.