32. Con
Con
I have never seen anything as beautiful as the way Phoenix fights to prove her worth.
She shouldn’t be the one forced to prove anything—she’s already shown, over and over, how strong she is.
We’re the ones who aren’t worthy. Not her.
When she’s given permission to come, it’s instant and intense. Her muscles strain with the effort to be good. It’s intoxicating—the way her thigh muscles flex, the way even her flat stomach works to hold off until she releases it all in a wave of glory.
Jealousy hits me hard—at Atticus, as he laps up every drop of her pleasure, and even at Storm, who’s whispering psychotic nothings into her ear, ramping everything in her head higher and higher.
“How do we want to do this?” Maverick asks, looking at me.
“You three take her,” I say. “And if you can’t break her, then I will. I want her at her limit before she’s mine.”
I can’t sort through the mess of emotions warring inside me, but I know this is how it has to go. I want her to myself—more than that, I want her to be one of us. If sharing her is the way to prove she belongs, then I’ll prove once and for all why I’m the leader of the Titans.
Not that we’ve ever discussed leadership. There’s never been a vote, no decree, no title. People just assume I’m the leader because I take the lead—and I’ll do that here, too.
I grab a dining chair, shove it through the mess Maverick made when he cleared the table, and place it a few feet away. I want a front-row seat. It might be cheating, but I want to see exactly how they work her, what she responds to, and what she doesn’t .
I may be confident in my ability to lead, but I’m not about to underestimate my brothers.
“I already called her ass,” Maverick says.
Storm and Atticus both roll their eyes.
“Then take it,” Storm says. “You can fuck her ass. Atticus can get his soul sucked out through his dick, and I’m going to feel her come apart on my cock over and over and over.”
“Perfect,” Atticus says, helping Phoenix sit up. He scoops her into his arms, and she clutches at him, tear-stained cheeks flushed, lips swollen and bruised, her expression anything but sad.
She looks blissed out. I wonder if she’ll have that same look if Atticus puts her in subspace—or maybe that’s exactly where she is now.
Maverick strips and plants his bare ass on the table, stroking his cock—something I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing. That table’s going to have to go. Hell, it might need to be burned. There’s no way I’m eating off it after Maverick’s planted himself there.
Atticus maneuvers Phoenix, and for a moment I want to take her from him and do it myself, but I stay seated, my hands gripping the wooden armrests.
He walks her over to Maverick, who removes the plug while kissing her spine. I’m not sure she even notices until I hear her soft whimper.
“Ready to take my cock here, little firebird?” Maverick teases, rubbing lube on her and then on himself.
She must agree, because Atticus lowers her down until she’s fully impaled on Maverick. His hands go to her breasts, his lips to her neck, giving her a moment to adjust.
Her teeth sink into her lush bottom lip, and my cock’s never been so fucking hard.
Storm strips next, moving in front of her. He takes her mouth in a brutal kiss, one hand reaching between her thighs to stroke her clit.
“Can you take more, angel?” he asks.
The sweetest plea I’ll ever hear escapes her lips. “Please… am I allowed to come again?”
“Yeah, firebird—come as many times as you want,” Maverick growls into her neck .
Atticus takes his time removing his clothes, folding them neatly over a chair before hopping up on the table, his cock at the perfect height.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing, how seamlessly they fit together—Phoenix leaning forward to take Atticus into her mouth while Storm lines up with her cunt and pushes in.
I know firsthand how tight she is, but with Maverick’s ridiculously thick cock in her ass? It’s got to be euphoric.
Storm’s face twists with agonizing pleasure, his jaw tight. I know that look—it’s the fight to hold on, to keep from coming too fast.
Phoenix should be wrecked, barely more than a ragdoll, but instead, she comes alive.
One hand grips Storm’s shoulder as she works herself between him and Maverick. The other hand wraps around the base of Atticus’s cock, stroking while her mouth hollows around him.
This girl is a fucking miracle.
She’s not just taking it. She’s not just enduring punishment meant to break her—she’s working it. Thriving on it. Getting off on the attention, on the overwhelming flood of sensation.
Fuck me, this woman was made for us.
I watch as all three of my brothers freeze—letting her work her magic and fighting not to come too soon. Atticus has his hands tangled in her hair, holding her back so she doesn’t take all of him.
Maverick leans back, forearms braced on the table, staring up at the ceiling. I know he’s counting, thinking of baseball stats—whatever it is he does to last longer.
Storm is barely holding on, his hands gripping her hips, trying to slow her as she rocks between them, fucking herself on both cocks at once.
They’re not going to last. How could they? How can anyone hold on when they’re sharing an absolute goddess?
“Is that all you’ve got, princess?” I taunt, urging her to take more, to go faster.
All three Titans flip me off.
I’m even more certain they won’t last long—and I don’t want them to.
If they want to take their time dismantling our little Titaness, they can do it later.
My cock’s never been harder. I press my palm against it, adding just enough friction to take the edge off, but it’s not enough.
It’s never going to be enough until I’m buried inside her.
Her hips rock and twist with each thrust, taking Storm and Maverick deeper, driving herself toward her next orgasm.
Her nipples are tight, mouthwatering little buds, and I can see goosebumps racing over her sweat-slicked skin.
She’s close.
Which means I’ll be getting her freshly fucked, wet, and hot.
Fuck, I don’t know if I can wait much longer. I free my cock, fisting it, squeezing the head, trying to leash my control. But it’s too much. I need her now.
“Come, princess,” I call out. “Come on their cocks. Drag them over the edge with you. Prove you’re worthy.”
She doesn’t have to prove a goddamn thing—but I think she wants to.
The flush deepening down her chest says it all.
She grinds past Storm’s attempt to control her, throat working as she tries to take more of Atticus while stroking the rest of him with her hand.
She’s proving she gets off on earning it.
Good God, the way she works those hips—the way she gives each of them exactly what they need—is a masterpiece.
Most girls can’t handle one Titan. Here she is mastering three.
I want to know if she can handle me, too.
I’d planned to go at least somewhat easy on her after the whipping, after being choked and taken in every way they could think of. But fuck that.
She’s met every challenge so far, and when she bests my brothers, I’m going to test her limits myself.
“Fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on,” Storm pants.
“Then let go,” I demand, ready to take his place.
“Not until she does.”
Atticus yanks her hair back, arching her spine and lifting her breasts into Storm’s reach. He latches onto one taut nipple. Maverick reaches around with one hand to stroke her clit, sweat dripping from his brow.
“Come,” Atticus orders.
Like the good girl she is, Phoenix obeys.
Her hips stutter and shake, her moans muffled around Atticus’s cock.
“Fuck, yes, just like that,” Maverick growls as his neck veins stand out and he spills into her ass.
“Fucking pull out,” I bark at Storm just in time. He steps back and comes across her perfect breasts, marking her.
Atticus lets her take every drop before pulling free.
Maverick slides her off his lap and she ends up on all fours, ruined and beautiful, staring at me like she’s starving.
She has no idea what she’s asking for—but she’s about to find out.
The others fall into chairs, spent, as I rise and move toward her.
“Ready for more, princess? I’m not going to be as easy on you as they were,” I say .
Maverick scoffs behind me.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip again, and I want to bite it myself, but this isn’t about reward. This is punishment.
I kick broken glass and debris out of the way and guide her until her feet are flat on the floor. The jeweled plug that had been in her ass sits on the table.
“Turn around, princess.”
I push her shoulders down until she’s bent at ninety degrees, her breasts pressed to the hardwood. I kick her ankles apart, taking in the sight of her used pussy and ass.
She’s going to need a hell of a lot of aftercare—but not yet.
I grab the plug and press it back into her ass, watching it disappear until the jeweled base winks up at me.
Leaning over, I sweep her hair aside so her cheek rests on the tabletop.
“When you were spying on me in that closet—watching me fuck that girl—did you wish it was you? Did you want me using you for my pleasure, not giving a damn if you got off?”
“Yes,” she gasps, eyes sliding closed as if savoring the memory.
“That girl couldn’t handle my cock. Can you?”
“Yes… please.”
“Beg.”
“Please,” she whines.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me. I need it. I need your cock. Please… hard and fast. I need?—”
I cut her off with a sharp slap to her ass.
“We’ll see about that.”
Gripping her hips, I drive into her without warning. No time to adjust—she hasn’t earned it. I fuck her brutally, pouring every ounce of anger, betrayal, and desire into her body.
She comes once, twice, three times—her whimpers ignored as I listen for a safe word that never comes .
She takes it all, and I know—God, I know—she belongs here.
After her fourth orgasm, she braces her hands on the table and pushes back into me, lifting one knee to the table and tiptoeing on the other foot, forcing me deeper.
Most women can’t take all of me. Phoenix demands it.
She’s going to be the death of me—and I’ll die happy.
I reach under and pinch her clit, pulling one last scream from her as she collapses against the table and I fill her.
“Is she still alive?” Maverick calls.
Phoenix raises a thumbs-up without looking back, making all of us laugh.
“Okay, princess,” I say, gathering her into my arms. “Your punishment’s over. You did so good.”
I carry her to my room, set her on the toilet, and run a hot bath, dumping in half a bottle of lilac chamomile bubbles Maverick gave me as a joke .
When I lower her into the water, she moans. I’m tempted to get in with her, but I know I’d fuck her again if I did—and this is about her, not me.
I kneel on the tile and work the tension from her body, from her feet up to her back, until every knot is gone. When she’s clean and loose, I wrap her in a thick towel and carry her to the couch.
She curls against me, asleep within minutes.
Having her in my arms like this—trusting me enough to sleep—is almost as dangerous as what just happened.
This woman will either strengthen us, turning arrogant boys into powerful men… or she’ll destroy us.
The power she holds terrifies me almost as much as the thought of losing her.