Chapter 55 Owned, Eve #2
Rafe says something, but Lorian doesn’t answer. He just carries me against his strong body, away from the Grand Lobby, and I close my eyes, grateful for the reprieve, even if it’s just for a few minutes.
When we finally reach their suite, and I suppose my suite now too, I'm shaking. The second the door closes and the private space activates its translators, Lorian sets me down and the words pour out of me.
"She touched me. In front of everyone. Like I was a thing. What was she even saying?"
Rafe runs a hand through his short hair. "She was explaining to everyone that pets need to be checked for cleanliness. She was making sure you were properly groomed to standard, so that you weren’t bringing pests into the hotel."
The humiliation burns fresh. "And everyone laughed."
"Not everyone," Lorian corrects. "We didn’t laugh, and neither did Lira."
“But you just let her fucking touch me in front of everyone like that. How could you?”
"Because it needs to look like punishment,” Rafe says. “You’re clever enough to understand that, Eve.”
"Seven years of this," I say.
“You will survive,” Rafe assures me. “Because we have to endure it as well. Do you think I want to hold your leash? I fucking don’t.”
His words sober me. “This is Hell for you too.”
“Speak for yourselves,” Lorian says. “I’ll hold your leash for the rest of your life if you’ll allow me, Eve.”
“And this is why you will rarely get to hold her leash,” Rafe says to Lorian.
At High Table, I kneel beside the Sovereigns' chairs, the position making my knees ache against the stone floor. Their attendant approaches with a pet’s bowl, and his eyes don’t meet mine as he sets it on the floor in front of me.
When he served me at this same table last week, I was an elevated human; now I’m an animal.
At least the bowl is filled with actual food, not pet kibble.
The elite of the Spire dine on crystal and silver, while I eat with my hands from pottery on the floor.
Unintelligible conversation flows around me in tonal Imperial. I catch my name occasionally, surrounded by sounds that could mean anything. I notice someone gesturing at me, their tone suggesting a question.
Lorian responds while his hand drops to stroke my hair. The casual possessiveness of it makes me want to pull away, but I don't. He says something else, then looks down at me expectantly.
I recognize the questioning tone, the pause that demands a response. There are only two phrases I can say in Imperial that they'll understand. Both were taught to me by Rafe before we came to dinner. So I swallow my pride and say, "Yes, Master," the foreign words clumsy on my tongue.
Laughter ripples around me.
Are they mocking my submission?
Without understanding, every sound feels like a judgment.
The conversation continues over my head. The rise and fall of their alien voices creates a wall of sound I can't penetrate.
The meal drags on endlessly. Course after course for them while I eat from my single bowl.
Sometimes someone addresses me directly, waiting for one of my two possible responses. I guess wrong half the time, saying, "Yes, Master,” when I should have said, "I want," causing only more amusement.
By the time dinner ends, my knees are screaming and my pride is in tatters. But twelve humans are free because of my choices. I hold on to that thought as Rafe clips the leash to my collar, preparing to lead me back through the Spire.
The walk back is mercifully quick. Once in their suite, the world snaps back into meaning. "What were they arguing about?" I ask immediately, referencing a heated conversation that obviously involved me.
"Whether you should be sent to a proper training facility," Lorian says. "Senator Var thinks we will be too lenient."
"And the laughter?"
Rafe meets my eyes as if it’s punishment for him to tell me, "They were mocking your pronunciation and the irony of a terrorist saying 'Yes, Master' so readily."
"You all have never learned a different language, yet you think I should be perfect?"
“I never said I agreed with it,” Rafe defends himself. “You asked a question, and I answered it. Until you learn Imperial properly, people will treat you worse and worse.”
“I saw pets that spoke Imperial perfectly, but they were still human pets. So no, I am not going to put my heart into learning Imperial.”
“And that is exactly what Senator Var is talking about,” Lorian says.
"The IGC needs to see compliance," Rafe adds.
"And what do you need to see?"
They exchange one of those twin looks that exclude the rest of the galaxy.
"We need to see you safe," Lorian says finally. "Alive. Here. Not dying in some frozen hell because you couldn't keep your heroic impulses in check."
"Heroic impulses?" The anger rises inside of me, hot and cleansing after so much humiliation. "I saved people. Actual people. A pregnant woman who would have been bred like livestock. A man who'd been enslaved since childhood. How is that an impulse?"
"Because you got caught!" Rafe explodes. "Because you were sloppy and emotional, and now, you're paying the price!"
"We all are paying the price,” Lorian adds coldly. "Our reputation, our business, our future—all compromised because you couldn't resist playing savior."
“No. Neither of you are innocent. You set me up with Terra Ka. You gave me all the skills to feed them the information you wanted me to give them. You wanted me to do it. So, why claim me? Why not let me rot in the mines of Kel Minor?” I demand.
"Because we're in love with you," Rafe says. “And you’re the cleverest woman I’ve ever met.”
"Because you're ours, and no one understands me like you do,” Lorian says at the same time.
"Because despite everything, we can't let you go, Eve,” they say together as if they are one man, not two.
And the admission is so raw and honest it strikes me into silence.
Not just at their words, but the way they spoke them together.
These two identical men that are identical in no way, but in their appearance.
That they would both want me, no more than that, that they say they would not be able to live without me.
The NO CONTACT girl. The woman who betrayed them.
The woman who loves them back. I’m overwhelmed with emotion and confusion by all of this.
After a few seconds I say, "I didn't ask you to—"
Lorian rises, his hair even wilder than usual, making him look even more upset than I think he is.
He storms over to me and looks like he might strike me, but instead his mouth cuts off my words.
His kiss is vicious and demanding. All the fear and fury of the last days pours into it, and I kiss him back just as hard, letting my own anger at the situation fuel our erotic connection.
Rafe joins us, his hands tangling in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. "Seven years," he says against my skin, teeth grazing just above the collar. "We’re all locked together in these roles for seven years."
"I’m yours," I say, then bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. "And you're mine."
"Owners,” Rafe says.
“On your knees," Lorian commands, his hands already tracing the soft hair visible through the dress's open sides.
"No,” I say. My knees are still aching from dinner.
Lorian’s hand closes on my throat just below the collar, not cutting off air, but asserting control. "I said kneel, Eve."
I drop to my knees between them, looking up at them through my lashes. "Is this what you want? Your pet on her knees?"
Lorian grabs my hair with his other hand. “Don’t get smart with me.”
"Open your mouth," Rafe orders, freeing his large, already erect, ridged cock from his trousers.
I do, but not without dragging my teeth along his length when he pushes inside.
His groan is part pleasure, part warning.
“Hold her tight and move her head,” Rafe says, and Lorian's hand tightens in my hair, controlling my movements as I take Rafe deeper, the tip of his cock touching the back of my throat.
"Such a good human," Lorian says. "So obedient now that you're collared. Take my brother, that’s it. All the way. This is what humans do."
I pull off Rafe just long enough to say, "I saved people."
Rafe slaps my breasts hard over the thin fabric. “And we saved you.”
Then, he turns me around to face Lorian, and he plunges his even larger cock into my mouth while Rafe guides my head. “You will learn who is in control, even if we don’t want it.”
“Don’t listen to Rafe, I’ve always wanted you like this. That’s it, Eve,” he says as Rafe moves my head faster.
They use me between them, hands controlling my pace, my depth, and my breathing. Every time I gag, Lorian holds me there an extra second, and when I moan, Rafe pushes deeper.
"Enough," Lorian growls. “Your mouth isn’t enough."
They both pick me up and carry me over to the large bed, big enough for three.
Rafe reaches for me, but I’m done being compliant for now.
I put my hands on his chest, and he allows me to push him onto his back, and I straddle him, grabbing his strong wrists, pinning him.
"You wanted a terrorist in your bed? Here I am. "
He groans when I sink down on his dick in one vicious thrust. It’s the kind of move that is going to bruise us.
Lorian moves behind me, his hands spreading my thighs wider than I thought they could go. "You're going to learn to take us both at the same time. But we need to train your body first or we’ll break you in two.”
Lorian spits on my ass and shoves two fingers inside. It feels strange but good. My body feels stretched, stuffed, and full. And it goes taut between them. Then they start moving.
Hard.
Merciless.
Like I belong to them and they’re proving it now, with every snap of their hips, every primal rhythm they’re driving into me.
"Is this what you want from your collared criminal?" I breathe, moving my hips to the anger and frustration I feel about this entire situation.
"Yes," Lorian growls against my neck. "My wicked human. To fill you. To own you. And for you to want it. I’m going to stretch out this ass over the next weeks, and then you will see how owned you can be."
Rafe’s hands are bruising my hips as he drags me down harder onto him.
"We own all of you. Every hole. Every inch. Every heartbeat. Every breath. You won’t speak without permission.
You won’t piss without permission. You’ll take what we give you—our food, our come—and you’ll thank us for all of it.
And you will fucking do it in Imperial."
"You’ll have to make me do it," I say. “All of it.”
"I’m getting the paddle," Lorian says, and his fingers leave my ass, empty and wanting.
Rafe moves out of me with a groan. “Excellent idea.”
I feel completely empty now which is a worse punishment than the paddle.
“Put your hands on the wall and prepare yourself,” Lorian says as he returns with the neural paddle. "Count each stroke in Imperial."
I put my hands against the wall above the bed. The pet dress is bunched around my waist as I brace myself. The first strike lands sharp across the curve of my ass, and every one of my nerves lights up like the start of a firestorm.
"Count," Rafe demands.
"Ehel," I choke. One.
The second strike lands in the same place. Neural feedback turns pain into a sensation that devours me and I welcome it. This is familiar. Reliable. Predictable. Nothing like their emotions.
"Ehelle," I say. Two.
By the fifth, I feel like I might be able to do this.
By the eighth, I’m shaking too hard to hold my position. I sag forward. The paddle doesn't just cause pain; it rewires sensation, making everything hypersensitive. Even the air against my skin feels like too much.
The ninth strike explodes across my thighs, and my knees almost give out.
“Don’t you dare fall,” Rafe says.
“Ahele,” ten, I gasp. I barely get it out. My voice isn’t even mine anymore. Nothing is.
Lorian sets the paddle aside. His hand replaces it. The first touch is gentle, and I decide that’s worse. He palms my ass where the strikes landed, and I scream. It's a pleasure that hurts now.
"You hate this?" Rafe asks, crouching in front of me now, fingers gripping my jaw. "Say it."
"I hate you," I say, but the way I shake ruins the words.
"You hate how we touch you?" Lorian asks. "You hate how your cunt clenches when we punish you?"
"Yes," I breathe.
"Then, why are you dripping wet for us?"
I don’t answer. I want to say that I hate I’m even here, but that’s not true. Despite all of this, I still want them and to be here with them like this. I want all of this. I have accepted it as my fate. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have any agency in it.
Rafe pins my wrists above my head on the wall as Lorian begins fucking me, then they switch places.
I’m hypersensitized by these men. Every breath burns and every thrust from them feels like a rocket ship of erotic fire into my pussy.
I never want them to stop.
I scream. I come. I curse them. I recite half-remembered prayers the nuns taught me for strength. I bite Rafe’s shoulder. I sob Lorian’s name.
And still they fuck me, and not because I begged for them to do it, but because I refused to break for them.
This is what we all need now, reassurance that I am who I have always been, the strong and unbreakable woman they need me to be. They did not imagine it. And most importantly, I, did not imagine it.
When they finally let go of me, I collapse face-first into the sheets, every inch of me bruised and used, pierced and leaking. They left no part untouched.
"I’d do it again," I whisper into the pillow, voice hoarse. "I’d betray you. Even knowing this is the cost."
"We know," Rafe says, pulling me against him as Lorian warms up against my other side.
"That's what terrifies us," Lorian says, his hand possessive on my collar. "And excites us. Our little prisoner, who chose her chains with us.”
"Seven years," I whisper.
"Seven years," they confirm together.
Then we are all silent with our own thoughts as we drift off to sleep.
I begin dreaming of kneeling at their feet, their cocks heavy above me casting shadows, and I lick my lips for what’s to come and what I can command even from the floor.