8. Reed
REED
Rue trembles against the silk restraints, her small wrists bound above her head, my shirt riding up her thighs. Even through the black silk blindfold, I see the fear ripple across her face—jaw tight, breath coming too quick.
Her nipples leak through the thin cotton, twin wet spots spreading as her body betrays her terror with that sweet release Roman and I have already tasted. She's scared we'll hurt her. Punish her for not trusting us.
Roman's dark eyes meet mine across her shaking form, and I see my own concern reflected back. We wanted to teach her trust, but it seems like she's not ready for this.
I cup her face in both hands, my thumbs stroking slowly across her flushed cheeks, feeling the dampness where tears have started to gather beneath the silk blindfold. Her skin is so soft, so warm under my touch, and I can feel the rapid flutter of her pulse against my palms.
"Little girl," I murmur, my voice dropping to that low, reassuring tone I use when she's spiraling into panic, "we're not going to harm you. Not tonight, not ever. That's not what this is about."
I lean closer, my breath warm against her ear as I continue stroking those gentle circles with my thumbs, grounding her with my touch. "You're safe with us. You're always safe with Roman and me."
Roman's large hand splays across her stomach, gentling. "We just want to make you feel good, Rue."
"But I—I kept secrets to you both?—"
"You were protecting Kurt." I lean down, brush my lips across hers. Soft. Tender. "That's not the same thing."
Her lower lip quivers. "You're not mad?"
"Not even close." Roman presses kisses along her jaw, down her throat. "We're going to take care of you. Both of you."
I trace her mouth with my tongue, coaxing her to open. When she does, I slide in slow, tasting her sweetness while Roman works his way to her breasts. The wet cotton clings to her swollen flesh, and when he peels the fabric up, fresh milk beads at her tight peaks.
"If it gets too much," I murmur against her lips, "say orange. We'll slow down. If you want to stop everything, say red. Understand?"
"Yes." The word comes out breathy.
"Good girl."
Roman's tongue flicks out, catching a drop of milk before it falls. Rue gasps, arching into him. Her scent floods the air—honey and arousal—and my cock throbs, but this isn't about us right now.
I reach for the lit candle on the nightstand. "We're going to play with what you feel."
The first drop of warm wax hits her collarbone. She jolts, a sharp inhale, but Roman's mouth on her breast keeps her grounded. I let another drop fall, watching red wax cool into a small pearl between her tits.
"How's that feel?"
"Hot." She squirms. "But not—not bad."
"That's my girl." I trail more wax down her sternum, careful to avoid the sensitive swell of her breasts. Roman's still sucking at her, milk flowing steady now as he palms her other tit, squeezing.
Then I grab an ice cube from the bowl. The contrast makes her cry out when I press it to the wax, melting both against her skin. Cold water and candle residue run in rivulets down her ribs.
"Oh my God?—"
Roman releases her nipple with a wet pop, switching sides. His tongue works her peak while his fingers roll and tug the abandoned one. Milk streams over his knuckles.
I drag the ice lower, across her stomach, circling her navel. She's writhing now, hips lifting, and I push her thighs wider with my free hand.
I press the melting ice against her inner thigh, watching goosebumps race across her skin. Her hips buck, seeking friction, but I keep my touch light. Teasing.
"Please—"
"Please what?" I trace higher with the ice, so close to where she's dripping for us but not quite there.
Roman lifts his head, her milk glistening on his lips. "Tell us what you need, Rue."
"I don't—I can't—" She pulls against the restraints, her small body arching. "Touch me."
"We are touching you." I let another drop of wax fall on her hip bone. She yelps, squirming.
"Not like that." Her voice cracks with need. "Please, I need?—"
"Say it." Roman's hand slides down her stomach, stopping just above where she's desperate for contact. "Use your words."
"Touch my—" She swallows hard. Even blind and bound and leaking milk, she's still shy about asking for what she wants. "Touch me there."
I set the candle aside, replacing warmth with ice again. This time, I press the cube directly against her clit—she isn't wearing panties at all. The cold makes her scream.
"Fuck!" Her thighs try to snap shut, but I hold them open with one large hand splayed across her thigh.
Roman chuckles, dark and pleased. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
I work the ice in slow circles while her whole body trembles. The cube melts fast against her heat, water mixing with her arousal. I can see everything—her swollen lips, the little bud standing out.
"Look at her." I press harder, watching her hips roll. "So pretty when she's desperate."
Roman captures her mouth, swallowing her whimpers as I replace ice with my fingers. Her slick coats my hand immediately, hot and thick.
"Still sensitive from earlier?" I push one thick finger inside, feeling how tender she is from our earlier claiming.
She breaks the kiss to gasp. "Yes—oh God?—"
"Good." I add another finger, stretching her carefully while my thumb finds her clit. "Because we're going to make you come on our hands first. Then our mouths. Then maybe, if you ask real nice, we'll fill you up again. But we will milk you first."
Roman sets the ice bowl on the nightstand, his movements deliberate as he blows out the candle. Smoke curls up between us, and when our eyes meet over Rue's trembling form, I see the same hunger I feel reflected in his dark gaze.
"Share her with me," I say, my voice rough.
He doesn't answer with words. Just leans down and captures her left breast in both hands, squeezing until fresh milk beads at her nipple. His tongue flicks out, catching the stream, and Rue's back bows off the bed.
I mirror him on the right side, my larger hands engulfing her soft flesh as I massage upward.
The warmth of her skin, the weight of her tit in my palm—Christ, she's perfect.
Milk flows freely now, coating my fingers as I work her, and when I seal my lips around her peak and suck hard, she cries out.
"Oh fuck—daddy—Roman."
The word goes straight to my cock. I pull deeper, feeling her let down, the rush of sweet liquid flooding my mouth. Roman groans beside me, his jaw working as he drinks from her, and together we create a rhythm—massage, suck, swallow. Her body gives and gives.
Rue's face contorts with pleasure, her mouth falling open as desperate little sounds escape her throat. The blindfold is soaked with tears now, but they're not from fear anymore. Her hips rock up, seeking friction, and her bound wrists pull against the silk restraints.
"Please—I can't—it's too much?—"
Roman releases her nipple with a wet pop, milk dripping down his chin. "You can take it." He squeezes her breast harder, forcing another stream that he laps up greedily. "You're going to give us everything."
I switch my technique, using my teeth to gently tug her peak while my hand kneads the fullness of her tit. The contrast makes her whimper, her thighs clenching together as she tries to find relief.
"Look at her pussy," Roman mutters, his gaze dropping between her legs. "She's fucking soaked."
He's right. I can see her slick glistening on her inner thighs, her cunt swollen and desperate. Every pull at her breast makes her clench, her body wired so tight she's ready to snap.
I massage her other breast with my free hand, alternating sides, keeping both nipples stimulated while Roman does the same. We're drinking her dry, taking everything she has to give, and the sounds she makes—those broken little moans and gasps—drive me wild.
"Can't—I'm going to?—"
"Not yet." I release her nipple, watching it glisten with milk and saliva. "You come when we say."
Roman's hand slides down her stomach, his fingers finding her clit. She screams, her whole body jerking, and I have to pin her shoulder down to keep her still while I latch back onto her breast.
"That's it," Roman growls, rubbing tight circles. "Give daddy your milk while your stepbrother play with this needy little cunt."
Her thighs shake. Milk flows faster now, her body responding to the dual stimulation, and I drink deeper, my hand massaging rough. Roman matches my pace, both of us working her until she's sobbing.
"Please—daddy—Roman—I need?—"
"What do you need, little girl?" I lift my head just enough to speak, milk coating my lips.
"Need to come—please let me come?—"
"Not yet," I tell her, wiping milk from my beard. "Roman, pull back."
He lifts his head from her breast, dark eyes questioning. His fingers still circle her clit, and she whimpers at the loss when he stops.
"What're you thinking?"
"Got an idea." I reach for the nightstand drawer, my fingers closing around the smooth silicone. "This will prep her for both of us."
The dildo isn't small—about Roman's size, tapered at the tip. I grab the lube bottle and coat it thoroughly, the wet sounds making Rue tense beneath the blindfold.
"What—what is that?"
"Something to help you take us both." I trail the cool tip down her stomach, between her legs, but I don't go where she expects. Instead, I press it lower, against her tight little asshole.
"Wait—daddy—I've never?—"
"I know." I lean down, kissing her hip bone as I apply gentle pressure. "That's why we're starting slow."
Roman's hand finds her face, cupping her jaw. "Breathe for me, Rue. Deep breath in."
She obeys, her chest rising, and I use that moment to push the tip past the ring of muscle. Her whole body goes rigid.
"Fuck—it's too big?—"
"It's not." I work it in another inch, watching her clench around the silicone. "You're going to take this, and then you're going to take both our cocks. But first, you need to relax."