Chapter 1 #2
I try to wiggle my hand out of his grip, but it’s impossible. My hips involuntarily rise. I am so close to orgasming. All I want to do is touch myself to completion. I nod, and Rafe slowly releases my hand.
“Now ask,” Rafe says.
“Please let me come, Husbands,” I say on the verge, my hand moving frantically.
Rafe presses his mouth to my collarbone, lips soft. “Good. Go on.”
I close my eyes and let my orgasm take over.
I feel the pressure rising, and then I hit the tipping point.
Within seconds, my whole body begins shaking with erotic pleasure, and I hear Lorian call me his ‘beautiful sinner’ and feel him start to kiss me down my body, which only makes the orgasm last longer.
By the time I slowly draw my hand away from my clit, I feel spent, but I know this is only the beginning.
This is their fantasy, and one thing I’ve learned about them is that sex is never over quickly.
It’s always a long, drawn out affair that includes both pleasure and pain.
It’s a full gambit of emotions that ensures every physical and emotional desire is met and satisfied.
Rafe runs a hand over my wet sex. “Tell me what you want, Eve.”
I open my eyes and look at him. His pupils are so large I can only see a small ring of silver around them. “I want you to fuck me. I want you both.”
Rafe flips me onto my stomach and then takes my hips in his hands and enters me with his large cock. All in one stroke. It’s merciless. And with each thrust he says, “You are ours.” Again and again.
And I feel every inch of him and his words as he pounds into me.
Lorian's worship is equally relentless, his mouth and hands finding every sensitive place on my back, his litany of Imperial prayers making this act feel holy. His Imperial words wash over me, incomprehensible under his breath.
I feel overwhelmed, not from pain, but from being seen so completely.
Then, they switch, and Lorian flips me over and enters me. My body welcomes him like he’s coming home. Every thrust feels like it’s erasing the last year of distance, rewriting me back into the shape I was always meant to have with them.
This is our normal.
Lorian pins my wrists above my head with one hand. He leans down until our foreheads touch, and I can smell the incense from the shrine still clinging to his long hair.
“You’ll count,” he says. “Every time I thrust, you count. If you lose count, we start over.”
The first thrust drives a moan from my throat. “One.”
The second knocks it into an erotic breath. “Two.”
By the seventh, I forget the numbers entirely, and he stops, pulling out of me with maddening slowness.
“Lorian, it’s too much. I can’t remember how to count.”
“Start again,” he says. “Remember why we’re doing this. To prove to you that this is real.”
I start over. I’m shaking and sweating. My body and mind are torn with all these thoughts and sensations.
When I lose count a third time, he withdraws, leaving me cold and empty, and rolls me onto my stomach.
Then, Rafe binds my wrists with a silk tie that appeared out of nowhere, anchoring my wrists to the bed.
“You want to be punished?” Lorian says, dragging his fingers between my legs.
“Yes,” I say, surprising myself. But through the haze of sex, I realize that after what happened between us at the Obsidian Palace, Lorian needs this. Needs to reassure himself.
Lorian begins to spank me. First firmly, just enough to make me yelp with pleasure. Then again. And again. Until an erotic pain spreads across my skin, grounding me in the now, anchoring me in my body.
I cry out, not in protest but in release. “Please, Lorian,” I beg him breathlessly, “take me as your wife.”
Those are the words he so desperately needs to hear, and he stops spanking me and enters me hard and rough from behind, one hand on my bound wrists, the other curved possessively over my hip.
The slap of skin, the wet sound of my arousal, my breath ragged and open—he inhales it like forgiveness. And that’s what it is. I don’t need to say it out loud. My body is saying it.
I forgive you, Lorian.
“This is what it means to be mine.” He lets out a low sound of feral satisfaction as his pace grows punishingly fast, thighs slapping against mine as he chases both our ends.
When I start to reach the peak of another orgasm, he slows.
“Not yet.” Lorian slips a hand beneath me, finds my clit, and rubs tight circles that make my spine arch like a bowstring.
I tremble. I cry. I beg. “Please, Lorian, let me come.”
He removes his hand from my clit, and I’m left desperate.
I squirm my hips, but he holds me in place.
His lips find his mark on my shoulder blade, kissing the alien symbol tattooed into my skin.
“My beautiful sinner,” he whispers, stroking my bound hands.
“We are reminding you that this is real.” Then, he withdraws his enormous, ridged penis, leaving me utterly empty and wanting.
“No, please.”
“I’m glad you’re so eager,” Rafe says. “Now we’re going to both break you apart at once.”
Rafe unties me and flips me on top of his strong muscular body. Then he positions himself and enters me. It feels so elegantly primal, and I try to move my hips, but he grabs them strongly to hold me still. “Not yet.”
Lorian comes behind me. I feel the press of his chest, his hands on my ass, spreading me open from behind. One of his fingers teases my ass, slick with oil, rubbing slow then pushing in. I gasp for air and try to rock forward, but Rafe continues to hold me still.
“Are you ready?” Rafe asks. “We may rip you apart? But this is our fantasy.”
“Yes,” I whisper, dizzy with anticipation and fear. “Please.”
Lorian’s breath is fire against my ear. “Say it properly.”
“Please, break me open. Make me yours the way you’ve fantasized about. Make this real.”
Because nothing is more authentic than pain.
“Open for me,” Lorian says, as he pushes slowly into my ass, and I choke on the fullness, on the overwhelming sense of being taken completely.
“So tight, this virgin ass,” Lorian says, as he sets the pace, slowly at first, stretching me, wider and wider, and then harder and deeper, until I’m unable to do anything but endure the pressure of both pleasure and pain.
Their cocks completely claiming me. And I want them to continue just as much as I want them to stop.
“This is so real,” I breathe. There’s no part of me untouched, unclaimed. Every breath is theirs. Every inch of me locked in their rhythm. And it’s real. All of it. None of it is a figment of my imagination.
My body jolts with every thrust. I’m shaking, begging, lost between these men. There’s too much—too much fullness, too much heat, too much want. I can feel every twitch, every breath. They don’t speak anymore. They grunt, curse, growl my name like a sacrament.
"Stay with us," Rafe says, his hand gripping my jaw. "Don't disappear. You're here. You're ours. Claimed and cherished."
"Yours," I agree, the word tasting like reality now.
Lorian holds my hips still. While Rafe reaches in-between us and rubs my clit to take me over the edge of another orgasm.
And now, between their bodies, their heat sealing me in, I realize that I only ever wanted to be claimed by someone who loved me, not out of obligation, but because of who I am.
A tremor runs through me, not from fear or from shame, but of recognition that I am theirs and they are mine. And I come to accept, as the peak of another orgasm comes crashing down, that these alien twins were always my fate.
Not a collar.
Not a contract.
Not the darker side of a fate I deserved.
And most definitely not a fantasy I invented out of insanity.
My breath trembles, my muscles contract, and the last of my resistance slips like a thread snapping inside me. I feel it go—shuddering and gasping silently. A surrender so total it feels like falling back into a life I never stopped wanting, even though, I only had glimpses of it before.
Lorian kisses the back of my neck. “We knew you’d come home to us.”
Rafe tilts my chin up with two fingers, making me meet his eyes. “It doesn’t get more real,” he says softly.
“You come again when I say,” Lorian commands, “And not a second before.”
“Please, I can’t—”
“You will.” Rafe pinches my clit and then begins rubbing me quickly. It’s so raw, but I begin to feel myself warming to another orgasm. “We know your body, Eve. You can come again if we want it.”
“And we do want it.”
Rafe and Lorian begin to work my body into another orgasm. And when I’m on the verge, I feel they are as well. Their bodies tense between my own.
“Now, Wife,” they both say at the same time.
My orgasm tears through me like a hurricane.
My body clamps down, and they both groan, both curse, both fill me.
Lorian in my ass, Rafe in my vagina, claiming me completely.
I breathe through all the physical sensations and conflicting emotions, with both their names on my lips, shaking and raw, the pleasure blinding, almost holy.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I’ve never felt so alive.
Then, we collapse in a tangle of limbs and breath and sweat. And I begin to cry at the overwhelming rightness of it. The completion. And the authenticity I required that this is all real, and none of it was my imagination.
As I drift toward sleep, I find myself planning our future. The life we'll build in this strange place between worlds. I reflect on my own position. What I have isn’t freedom exactly, but it’s enough.
Dr. Veil had been right, the Sovereigns had always known, and now so did I—freedom was never about belief, only about what the body learned to endure without breaking.
So, I signed the marriage contract knowing every clause is a chain. Ten years of service. Ten years under their law. Lorian says I’m seen by the goddesses; Rafe says I’m safe. Both are lies, but they’re the kind of lies that I can live with. And they’re no different from the lies I tell myself.
But despite this being yet another cage, I have the feeling that I have finally come home. But I’m not the same woman I was when I arrived at the Celestial Spire.
I have become who I had to to survive and I won’t apologize or allow myself to feel ashamed over it. I did what had to be done, and in the end, I got everything I ever wanted.
Not the darker side of the fate I deserved. But the fate I deserved, full-stop.
I am proud of the woman I see in the mirror.
She survived.