Chapter 11 Cora
CORA
My lungs burn as I follow Ryder through the twisting corridors. Every shadow makes me flinch, every sound a potential threat. I don't trust him—I can't—but what choice do I have? Three predators or one. Simple math.
"In here," Ryder whispers, stopping at an unmarked door. "We can hide out until they give up searching this section."
I hesitate, eyeing the doorway. "How do you know it's safe?"
"I memorized parts of the layout before the Hunt." His smile seems genuine, concerned even. "Trust me, Cora. This is our best option right now."
Trust. Such a small word for something I've never been able to afford.
Ryder pushes the door open, revealing a dimly lit room with crimson walls.
Something about the space makes my skin prickle—perhaps the plush surfaces or the restraints I glimpse hanging from one wall.
But before I can process these details, Ryder's hand presses against my lower back, urging me forward.
"Quickly," he murmurs.
I step inside, hearing the decisive click of the door shutting behind us. For one moment, relief washes over me—a moment's reprieve from running.
Then movement catches my eye. Two figures emerge from the shadows on opposite sides of the room, their outlines becoming horrifyingly familiar as they step into the light.
Dominic. Liam.
My heart seizes. I back up instinctively, colliding with Ryder's solid chest.
"Shit, they're here," I gasp, reaching behind me to grasp his arm, still clinging to the desperate hope that he might help me escape.
Ryder's laugh cuts through my panic—low and amused, nothing like the concerned tone he'd used minutes earlier. His hands clamp down on my shoulders, holding me firmly in place.
"You were so gullible," he says, voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Did you really think I was the good guy in this story?"
The crush of betrayal hits me like a physical blow. Stupid. So stupid to have trusted him. I should’ve known better—a lifetime with my father should’ve taught me that men with charming smiles are the most dangerous kind.
“You son of a bitch,” I spit at Ryder, managing to twist from his grasp and turn to glare at him.
His eyes spark with excitement at my anger, which only infuriates me more. This is a game to him. To all of them.
Dominic steps forward, prowling toward me with deliberate, unhurried movements. His dark eyes never leave mine, tracking every micro-expression on my face.
“I think it’s time we stop playing, don’t you?” His voice drops lower, rougher. “Let’s have some real fun now.”
I back up until I hit something solid—the edge of a massive bed. “Go to hell.”
A smile spreads across Dominic’s face, slow and predatory. “Already there, baby. Might as well enjoy it.”
Before I can react, Liam’s hands clamp around my wrists from behind, yanking my arms back and holding them firmly at the small of my back. His chest presses against my shoulder blades, his breath hot against my neck.
“Careful with that mouth,” Liam murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “Unless you’re offering to put it to better use.”
I struggle against his grip, but he’s surprisingly strong. “Let me go!”
Dominic continues his approach until he stands directly in front of me, close enough that I can smell his cologne—something woody and expensive. He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from my face with mock tenderness.
“Your father should have taught you better manners,” he says.
I jerk my head away from his touch. “Don’t talk about my father.”
Across the room, Ryder leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold with obvious pleasure. I hate that I believed him, trusted him. His betrayal stings worse than the others because I’d let myself hope, however briefly.
“Enjoying the show you orchestrated?” I call out to him, trying to mask my hurt with venom.
Ryder smiles, not bothering to respond.
Dominic steps closer as Liam’s grip on my wrists tightens. I glare defiantly at Dominic, refusing to show fear despite my racing heart.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Dominic says, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that sends unwanted shivers down my spine. “Liam will hold you, but he won’t support your weight. I want to see how long the mayor’s precious daughter can stand on her own two feet.”
From a nearby table, he retrieves two items—a sleek black vibrator and a leather flogger with multiple tails. My stomach drops.
“What the hell is that for?” I demand, trying to mask my fear with anger.
Dominic’s smile is terrifying in its calmness. “Pleasure and pain, Cora. The oldest combination in the world.” He traces the flogger tails along my cheek. “Let’s see what breaks you first.”
Liam adjusts his grip, holding my wrists firmly but, as promised, providing no support for my body. Dominic circles behind me, and I flinch when the first strike of the flogger lands across my upper thighs. The pain is sharp but quickly blooms into heat.
“Count,” he commands.
“Go fuck yourself,” I spit back.
The next strike is harder. I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
“We can do this all night,” Dominic says. “Count.”
“One,” I finally whisper, hating myself for complying.
As the flogger continues its work, Dominic brings the vibrator to life.
The low hum fills the room seconds before he presses it against me through the thin fabric still covering me.
The dual sensations—sharp sting across my skin and insistent pleasure between my legs—create a confusing storm of feelings I can’t process.
My legs begin to tremble. I’m determined not to fall, not to give them the satisfaction. But as Dominic increases both the intensity of the vibrator and the force of the flogger, my resolve weakens. My knees buckle once, twice, and then I’m sinking down despite my best efforts.
“Look at that,” Dominic says. “The mighty fall.”
As my knees hit the floor along with the vibrator discarded and buzzing nearby, Dominic is already unzipping his pants. He’s large—intimidatingly so—and before I can protest, he grips my hair and guides himself into my mouth.
“That’s it,” he groans. “Put that sharp tongue to better use.”
To my horror, I hear more zippers. From the corner of my eye, I see Ryder and Liam exposing themselves, both equally impressive in size and already fully hard.
My mind reels with contradictions as Dominic’s grip tightens in my hair. I should be fighting, should be terrified, and I am, but there’s something else happening that I can’t explain. Something I don’t want to admit.
The pressure of his cock against my throat, the complete surrender of control... it feels almost therapeutic. For my entire life, I’ve been on edge, walking on eggshells, perfectly poised as the mayor’s daughter. Always in control because losing it meant facing my father’s wrath.
But here, on my knees, there are no decisions to make. No expectations to meet. Just surrender.
I stop resisting and relax my throat, allowing Dominic to push deeper. My eyes water as I gag around his thickness, but I don’t pull away.
“Fuck, look at her taking it,” Dominic growls, his voice strained with pleasure. “Such a good little throat for Daddy to fuck.”
I should hate his words, but they send an electric current straight through me.
“The mayor’s perfect princess, on her knees choking on cock,” Liam says, stroking himself as he watches. “Who would’ve thought?”
Ryder steps closer, his hand joining Dominic’s in my hair. “Think she can handle all of us?”
“Why don’t we find out?” Dominic says, slowly withdrawing from my mouth. He tilts my face up, thumb brushing over my swollen lips. “What do you say, baby girl? Ready to show these gentlemen what that pretty mouth can do?”
I’m breathing hard, my lips wet and parted. I should be disgusted. Should be fighting. Instead, I feel dizzy with a dark kind of freedom I’ve never experienced before.
“She’s fucking dripping for it,” Ryder observes, noticing how my thighs press together. “Look at her.”
“That’s because good girls like her are always the filthiest,” Dominic says, his eyes never leaving mine. “Aren’t you, Cora?”
My mind is a battlefield of warring impulses. Disgust and arousal clash with every heartbeat. I should be fighting them, screaming, anything but this—this maddening, inexplicable hunger consuming me from within.
When Dominic’s hand tightens in my hair again, a word rises unbidden in my mind: Daddy. The word he just said. The thought of calling him Daddy leaves me breathless. What’s wrong with me? How can I want to call him that after what my own father has done?
Yet it feels right in a way I can’t explain—this primal surrender to a man strong enough to break me but choosing instead to unravel me piece by piece.
Suddenly, Ryder takes his place, his cock sliding between my lips. He’s gentler than Dominic but no less commanding.
“Look at those pretty eyes,” he murmurs, thumbs wiping tears from my cheeks. “All wide and innocent while you suck cock like you were born for it.”
I should hate his words. Instead, I moan around him, my body betraying me completely.
“She’s fucking loving this,” Liam observes from somewhere beside me. “Mayor Pike would have a stroke if he could see his daughter now.”
The mention of my father should repulse me, but there’s something darkly satisfying about this rebellion. For once in my life, I’m doing exactly what I want, consequences be damned. I want to hurt him too, and if this is the way to do it, then good.
When Ryder pulls away, Liam replaces him immediately, his taste different but equally intoxicating. His technique is more controlled.
“Good girl,” he praises when I take him deeper. “That’s it.”
My hands, free now with no one restraining them, should be pushing them away. Instead, one drifts between my legs, finding embarrassing wetness there. I’m touching myself while three strangers use my mouth, and the realization sends another flood of arousal through me.
I moan shamelessly around Liam’s thickness, my fingers working faster against my clit.
“Look at our girl,” Dominic growls, watching me pleasure myself. “Playing with that pretty pussy while she swallows cock.”
While Liam fills my mouth, I feel hands on my body—Dominic and Ryder circling me like hungry sharks.
Their touch alternates between gentle caresses and sharp pinches, particularly on my nipples.
I gasp around Liam’s length when Dominic twists one nipple between his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to my core.
“Look at how responsive she is,” Ryder murmurs, his voice thick with appreciation as he mirrors Dominic’s action on my other breast.
Dominic’s fingers trace my spine, each vertebra a stepping stone down to the curve of my ass. “Tell me something, baby girl,” he says, leaning close to my ear. “Have you ever been dominated by a real man before?”
The question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. I think about my past experiences—fumbling college boyfriends who were more concerned with their own pleasure than mine, trust fund boys who treated me like a conquest rather than a partner. Not even one had ever made me come. Not once.
With Liam still thrusting shallowly between my lips, I manage to shake my head, the movement subtle but unmistakable.
“I thought so,” Dominic says, satisfaction evident in his tone. “Daddy’s little girl has been with boys, not men.”
I’m so wet it’s embarrassing, my thighs slick with evidence of my arousal.
Liam notices my response and slowly withdraws from my mouth, leaving me gasping for air. His cock is slick with my saliva, still hard and curved toward his stomach. He looks down at me, then to his partners.
“She needs to come,” he says decisively. “Let’s tie her up and drive her insane.”
My pulse quickens at his words—both terrified and thrilled by the prospect. No one has ever focused on my pleasure this way before.