Chapter 29 Chloe
Chloe
My heart hammers against my ribs like it’s trying to break free, the chains rattling softly with every frantic beat.
The room feels too small. Jamie’s breath still mingling with mine from that kiss we shouldn’t have shared.
His eyes lock on me, dark and unreadable, and I know my words are intoxicating to him, especially the Miles comment.
There’s no way he could resist that, right? Adrenaline surges through me, hot and reckless, turning fear into something twisted, something that makes my skin tingle and my pussy throb.
I hold his gaze, my voice steady even as my pulse roars in my ears. “Fine, leave me like this and fuck me anyway.”
He doesn’t answer with words. His mouth crashes into mine, hungry and demanding, his tongue pushing past my lips to claim every inch.
I kiss him back just as fiercely, fingers curling into fists because I can’t touch him, can’t pull him closer. His stubble scrapes my chin, his body heat seeping through his t-shirt as he presses against me.
The kiss turns wild, teeth nipping at my lower lip, his hand fisting in my hair to tilt my head back, exposing my throat.
I gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the storm of it all—confusion swirling in my head, this man who chained me here, who is keeping me against my will, now devouring me like he cares.
His free hand roams down my side, rough fingers bunching the hem of my t-shirt, sliding it up over my stomach.
Cool air hits my skin, but his touch burns hotter, tracing the curve of my ribs before yanking the shirt higher.
I arch into him, breaking the kiss just long enough for him to pull it off, the fabric catching on my wrists before he tosses it aside.
My breasts are bare now, nipples hardening under his stare, and he doesn’t waste time—his mouth descends, sucking hard on one peak while his hand pinches the other until I whimper.
“Jamie,” I breathe, my voice ragged, head spinning with the wrongness of it.
He growls against my skin, teeth grazing as he switches sides, his other hand working at the waistband of my gray shorts. He hooks his fingers in and drags them down my hips, along with my panties, the cotton scraping over my thighs until I’m exposed, legs spread as much as the chain allow.
He pulls back, eyes raking over me, and I feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. His t-shirt comes off next, revealing the hard planes of his chest, muscles shifting under tanned skin marked with faint scars. I want to trace them.
“You like having me all to yourself?” I tease.
He stands to shove his jeans and boxers down, kicking them away. His cock springs free, thick and hard, veins pulsing along the length, the tip already glistening.
My mouth goes dry, heat pooling low in my belly despite the chaos in my mind.
“Or do you like sharing me, Jamie?”
He drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading them wider.
“I’ll take you anyway I can get you,” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, his breath ghosting over my pussy. “Do you have a primal kink?”
“A what?”
“Did me chasing you down turn you own, baby?”
I bite my lip, nodding because words fail me.
His tongue flicks out, tracing my pussy slowly at first, teasing the sensitive skin before circling my clit. Pleasure jolts through me, sharp and electric, my hips bucking up toward his mouth.
If there is a chance I die at their hands, then at least I will have this.
He dives in deeper, lips sealing around my clit as he sucks, his tongue lapping in firm strokes. One hand slides up my thigh, fingers parting me before two push inside, curling just right.
I moan, loud and unrestrained, the chains clinking as I twist. His pace builds, tongue relentless, fingers thrusting in rhythm, and the pressure coils tighter, my body trembling on the edge.
I’m so close, breaths coming in pants, when he pulls his fingers out and brings his hand down—hard. The slap lands right on my pussy, stinging sharp, the pain blooming into white-hot fire that rips a cry from my throat. My clit throbs, the orgasm hovering just out of reach, denied and aching.
“You have a death wish,” he says, voice rough with warning, his eyes meeting mine as he rubs the spot he just struck, the touch now soothing the burn. “Chasing this with me.”
I don’t deny it. The confusion swirls—fear and lust tangled so tight I can’t tell them apart.
“Just fuck me already,” I whisper, pulling at the chains.
He rises, positioning himself between my legs, his cock nudging at my entrance.
With one thrust, he sinks in deep, stretching me full, the burn of it mixing with the remnants of that slap.
I gasp, nails digging into my palms as he starts moving, slow at first, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in.
His hands brace on either side of my head, caging me, his mouth finding mine again in a bruising kiss.
I taste myself on his tongue, the realization only fueling the fire.
He picks up speed, hips snapping against mine, the bed creaking under us.
Each thrust hits deep, his cock dragging against my walls, building that coil again.
My mind fractures—thoughts of escape, of danger, of how wrong this is—all drowned out by the slap of skin, the grunt of his breath, the way he fills me completely.
I’m coming undone, and when I grip the bedsheets and turn my face unable to handle the pleasure.
The door creaks open, and there stands Miles, all in black, his nose bloody and swollen, bruises blooming across his jaw and cheek.
He leans against the frame, watching us with a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Did I miss the show?” Miles says, voice laced with amusement and something darker.
Jamie freezes mid-thrust, then pulls out abruptly, clambering off me, his cock still slick and hard. He grabs his jeans from the floor, yanking them on as he stands, tension coiling his body like a spring.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Miles wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his knuckles. He steps inside, closing the door behind him.
“You’ve been busy.”
“What the hell happened, Miles?”
“Ran into a problem.” Miles wipes his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of red across his knuckles. “Handled it.”
Jamie steps forward, blocking his view of me. “Handled how?”
“I said it’s done,” Miles says, voice flat. “Don’t start.”
Jamie studies him, jaw tight. “You can’t just show up bleeding and expect me not to ask.”
“I’ve been doing that for years,” Miles shoots back.
For a second, neither moves. The air between them feels like it might snap.
Jamie glances over his shoulder at me, then back at him. “She doesn’t need to see this.”
Miles’s eyes flick toward the chains, then up at me again. Something unreadable passes across his face. “She’s seen worse.”
Jamie’s hand curls into a fist at his side, but he forces it open. “Get cleaned up. We’ll talk later.”
Miles exhales, the fight draining out of him. He nods once, slow. “Fine.” He turns for the door, then pauses. “You should think about what you’re doing, brother. Lines blur fast in this place. Have fun with her. She’ll be long gone after tonight.”
I push myself up on my elbows, chains limiting the movement, my body still humming from the interrupted release.
“Does this mean you can let me go?” I ask, voice steadier than I feel, glancing between them.
Jamie shoots me a look, but Miles answers, his bruised eyes flicking over my naked body. “Tomorrow,” he says, crossing the room with a limp. “You’ll be free to leave then. But tonight... looks like the party’s just starting.”
I shrink back instinctively, the adrenaline leaving my limbs, leaving me raw and shaking. I curl my arms across my chest, covering myself. My gaze flits between Jamie and Miles, both of them tense, unreadable. My stomach twists in knots.
“I—” I start, voice quivering. “I should… you need to get cleaned up.” My words stumble out, awkward, but the intention is clear. I want to help him, to fix what’s broken without really knowing why.
Jamie kneels beside me, reaching out with steady hands. He hesitates at the chain around my wrist, then he undoes it slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes on me as if reading my thoughts.
“Stay still,” he murmurs.
Miles snorts, a bitter sound, and wipes his hand across his bleeding face. “Do you even want to know how this happened?” His tone isn’t accusatory, just wary, cautious.
Jamie glances up at him. “What are we doing, Miles?” His voice is rough, tight with everything he’s not saying.
“I don’t know,” Miles admits, then looks at me. “But you—after tonight, you don’t have to see either of us again. Ever.”
The words hit me harder than I expect. A strange relief mixes with the fear and longing tangled inside me.
“Really?” My voice is soft, tentative, almost desperate. “I’ll… I’ll be free?”
Miles gives a slow nod. “After tonight, you never have to see our faces again. That’s a promise.”
I swallow, the tension in my chest easing just a fraction. My lips part, and before I fully understand what I’m doing, I lean forward and press them to his. The kiss is short, impulsive, fragile, and it’s all the release I can handle right now.
Jamie’s hands slide under my arms, lifting me with ease. I let him guide me to the bed, muscles slack with exhaustion and everything else—the fear, the adrenaline, the confusion, the pull I feel toward both of them. Miles falls into step beside us, limping slightly, eyes dark but steady on me.
Jamie’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue.
Instead, he reaches for me again, his hand trailing down my thigh as Miles approaches the bed, shedding his black jacket to reveal a shirt stained with blood.
The confusion in my head spikes—this wasn’t part of it, not my plan, but the adrenaline surges anew, pulling me under as Miles’s fingers join Jamie’s, both men touching me now, their hands exploring, claiming.
Jamie’s mouth finds my breast again, sucking hard, while Miles kneels beside the bed, his lips brushing my inner thigh, inching higher.
I gasp, body arching into their touches, the chains a reminder of my captivity even as pleasure reignites.
Miles’s tongue teases my clit, gentle at first compared to Jamie’s earlier roughness, while Jamie’s fingers circle my entrance, pushing in alongside the lingering ache.
Their mouths and hands work in tandem, one sucking, the other thrusting, and I lose myself in the overload, moans spilling free as they take turns, switching places until I’m writhing, begging without words.
Jamie stands, shedding his jeans once more, his cock in hand as he strokes himself, watching Miles bury his face between my legs. Then he climbs back on, positioning his tip at my lips.
“Open,” he commands, and I do, taking him in, tongue swirling around the head as he thrusts shallowly.
Miles rises too, freeing his own erection—longer than Jamie’s, curved slightly—and lines up at my pussy, sliding in slow, deliberate.
They move together, Jamie fucking my mouth while Miles pounds into me, their rhythms syncing in a way that drives me wild.
Hands everywhere—Jamie’s in my hair, Miles gripping my hips—pulling me between them.
The confusion blurs into ecstasy, fear forgotten in the heat of it all, my body surrendering as they push me toward the edge again, this time with no interruptions, just the raw, unrelenting pleasure of being utterly taken.
I come on Miles dick, and he stretches out my orgasm as long as possible, making me practically bite Jamie’s dick in my mouth.
Miles comes all over my stomach and Jamie pulls out, turns me around and fucks me from behind and shortly after, he comes all over my back.