by Lana Grayson
His hand squeezed the swell of my thigh. I squirmed in a restless struggle against the delicious thrill.
I shouldn’t have been attracted to them.
It was wrong to let Nicholas fondle me in front of his brothers.
It was worse he let his brothers take me.
My life was a series of mistakes that somehow ended in pleasure. This was another moment I wouldn’t regret. Every right decision and necessary complication and lost reward tangled within the hem of my dress, easing higher and higher with his encouraging tug. A murmur accidentally slipped from my puffy lips, eager for the return of his kiss.
“Sarah, quiet.” Reed chastised with a smirk. “Watch the movie.”
I didn’t dare apologize, not for my breathy whisper or my revealing sigh. Nicholas parted my thighs just enough for his hand to paw lower, exactly where I needed him to touch.
Nothing compared to Nicholas’s attention. Just the barest of brushes, the slightest bump of his knuckle against my panties enraptured me more than Max’s flogger or a delicate lick of Reed’s tongue.
His second stroke pressed harder. My shiver pleased him, as did my eager humiliation to arch my hips toward his tease.
Once, Nicholas used ropes and bindings to touch me.
Now?
I willingly gave myself to a Bennett.
He explored the silk of my panties with a bold possession. The material gathered to the side. The darkened theater hid my vulnerable body from my step-brothers, but the exposure still flushed my cheeks. Nicholas darted a finger against my slit. He easily slipped within my slickened folds.
And growled.
He was allowed to make noise, but the instant I whimpered, his gentle touch turned to pinch. I quieted only as I realized his stroking was not meant for my excitement. His attention focused on the movie and not the trembling woman tensing in his arms, silently begging for the next flick, rub, or press.
Cruel.
That’s what he was, and I was a fool to ever think otherwise.
I shifted toward him, and Nicholas slowed his touches. I relaxed, and he began again, circling my sensitive nub and savoring each twitch of my breath. I gripped his arms, but his pace didn’t increase or slow. He just…touched me.
Heat twisted within my core, punishing me for my eager wetness. I wanted a lick. A kiss. Something big and thick that could pierce through me and silence the demanding insanity that nearly drove the whimper from my lips.
I was supposed to be quiet.
I was supposed to submit.
Was I supposed to just let Nicholas tease me into oblivion?
It was easier to be held down, forced to spread my legs under his command. I had no idea how to ask for relief, not even from the man I was foolish enough to love.
He teased, and I shifted against his lap. It earned a harder rub of my clit. The sensation rocked me. I tensed and shifted again.
Grinding against a Bennett.
Christ, I’d have died of embarrassment if he didn’t suffocate me with heat first.
The shudder rolled over me, promising a blistering end to the torment. I arched again, striking the same spot with a harder touch. I bit my lip and slid against his fingers.
Nicholas hummed. He removed his hand.
And pulled his phone.
My nails might have sliced through his shirt had he not suddenly stood. He scooped me into his arms and unceremoniously set me in Max’s lap.
“I have to answer this email,” he said.
An email? Was he kidding?
I raced to soothe my hair and pull my dress down. My core ached with a bitter disappointment, but the shock chased it away. Max grinned as his hands roamed where Nicholas had just abandoned.
“You’re free to say the safe word, Sarah.” Nicholas said, a dashing tease in his tone. “If you feel the need to practice.”
Max wasn’t as subtle as his brother. He tormented me with every aggression Nicholas expertly hid. Max didn’t tickle a path up my leg or gently guide my legs open with soft caresses or practiced demand.
He ripped my panties aside and impaled me against his finger in a single, brutal thrust.
My body shuddered in a war of shame and thrill, insult and lust. I struggled against his harsh strokes, but every violation of his touch layered me in the promise of instant, uncoiling shivers.
Nicholas watched as I breathed a gasped plea.
I bucked, eager for my sudden cresting…
Max chuckled and dragged his finger out of my tightness just before my peak.
Oh, God.
They were toying with me!
“Easy, baby.” Max pinned me as I squirmed, desperate to escape the aching torment of my stolen moment. “You’ve gotta behave first.”
Behave?
I struggled, but his finger plunged within me again, stealing my strength and engulfing me in burning desperation.
“You don’t get to come until Nick says you can.”
No, no, no.
The instructions horrified me. I blushed as though they had simply cuffed me to the wall and taken the tightness they owned.
What did he mean? Permission for my own orgasm?
Did he expect me to beg?
To ask?
How much power did Nicholas wield over me?
Max thrust a second finger inside me, testing the heat and wetness and absolute foolishness that was me submitting to my step-brothers. I knew better than to offer them my body.
Nicholas was right. He didn’t need the collars and leashes.
I captured myself in my own confusion and secrets.
My pussy clamped over Max’s fingers. He scolded me and withdrew, tasting the slickness as I panted in a pained frustration.
“Of course…” Nicholas pocketed his phone, his attention returning as I suffered in Max’s sadism. “You can always practice using the safe word.”
Christ.
They expected it. They meant for me to beg for their mercy as they dominated my body and stole my pride in twisting delight.
Absolutely not.
I resisted them before, faced each of them with an unrelenting determination to protect myself, my family, and every last secret I kept.
And each of them defeated me in their own way.
But not this time.
Not now.
Nicholas demanded my submission, but he anticipated my challenge. He offered me relief…if I admitted my weakness for my step-brothers’ touches.
I wouldn’t give in.
If they wanted to torment me, they’d torment me. I was ready to play the game. No safe word would whisper from my lips, no matter how delicious their torture.
But Max’s attention forged a new type of agony. The sensations raked me with sweat and trembles. I didn’t fight him, didn’t even whimper as his fingers forced through my tightness and sought the secret spot deep within me that buckled my courage and crippled me in his arms.
I bit my lip, but Max saw through my resistance. He drove me to a breaking point, teetered me over an edge of utter damnation, and then withdrew once more.
I panted in his lap and fought the rushing heat scalding me from the inside.
Max loved every moment of it. It wasn’t the sting of leather, but he reveled in any pain he caused, even if it came at the expense of my pleasure. His strength was too much. I’d never escape his grip. Again and again he buried his fingers in the most desperate part of me and punished me with the peak of my satisfaction. Then, he’d kick me into the bottomless, hopeless, frustrating pit of my own depravity with no reward.
Only frustration.
Only need.
Max’s frantic pace shuddered my entire body in breathless paralysis. I arched, but he shifted me, cradling me against his chest only to drop me into Reed’s waiting arms.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
Reed winked. “Not yet.”
Christ, it only got worse.
Not Reed.
I’d never resist Reed.
> He broke my every defense, cracked my hesitations, and toyed with my frustration. He pushed my legs apart and gave a playful smile. Reed pretended his attention was meant to prove his devotion. I knew the truth.
He’d undo me with desire.
He was a friend. He was my first ally. Hell, he was almost like a real step-brother.
But Reed was still a Bennett, and his amusement was delivered in cruelty. The flick of his finger teased with softness, but even his gentleness jerked and flinched my body. I demanded more.
Under Nicholas’s instruction, Reed had spent hours learning every secret of my body. He meant to take me just like Nicholas, to leave his mark within me. He’d learned how I reacted, wetted, and crested, if only so his seed had the best chance to steal what belonged to his brother.
They were all lunatics.
And I couldn’t stop wanting them.
Reed didn’t have the patience of his brothers. His attention drove me too fast to the peak and damned me too low when I dropped without satisfaction. I fought him, gripping his wrists and gasping for breath. He laughed.
“Safe word?” He pinned my arms. “Come on, Sarah. You used it for everything before. Just whisper it to me.” He glanced at his brothers. “I won’t tell anyone.”
I said nothing. I asked for nothing.
And Nicholas watched with a cruel enthusiasm for the moment I’d finally crack and beg for the relief he’d give.
As if it wasn’t obvious.
As if it hadn’t been his plan all along.
The damn app revealed it. Today was their best shot at saving my life or stealing my company, whatever they pretended the reason was now.
Their games were meant to torture me, to make me eager for the moment they’d all take me, rut me, and then claim me with their seed.
Nicholas watched. Max clenched his fists. Reed grunted against his own limits.
And I fought my orgasm with the same base pride that controlled my step-brothers.
It wasn’t about the company anymore or the inherited money or even the power promised from their success. It wasn’t about Atwood Industries or the trust damning their family.
Lust consumed them, and the primal urge to dominate wouldn’t be sated with a taking of my tightness. They wanted something…more.
They wanted me.
They wanted my child.
And each of them competed to be the man to do it, to claim me as a woman was meant to be claimed, and to rule over the others as the one who succeeded where they had failed.
I was lost between each of them, a prize yet to be won.
No matter the chances or my protest, regardless of what would happen, my life, my body, my very existence belonged to the men I hoped to trust.
I was their pleasure. I would be their salvation. And now, I had no chance to escape.
“Fuck it.” Reed didn’t know his own strength. “I’m not waiting anymore.”
Thank God.
His hand went to his belt.
“Christ,” Max said. “Don’t you have any patience?”
“None at all.”
Reed was over me before I covered myself. He peeled my panties off and slapped my hands as they hid the slit between my legs. He ducked low, lapping at my wetness as I shattered into sharp anguish. I struggled, but even my sweet, gentle Reed denied me relief. He spread my thighs, prepared to seize the part of me that slickened for any kindness he’d offer.
But he hesitated.
Reed looked to his brother.
“Nick?”
My cheeks flushed too pink.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had to ask for permission.
Nicholas sat still, motionless, observing my every shudder.
“She knows the safe word.” His voice would ruin me forever. “And she knows the reward if she uses it.”
Reward?
I groaned.
Nicholas still withheld my release. I couldn’t imagine what other depraved things he’d inflict upon me. Reed leaned over my spread legs.
My step-brothers watched me before. Each of them had a taste, a moment, or even a whole night with me trapped beneath them. Reed jerked his cock, somehow ignoring his brothers’ gazes. It was easier for him. They weren’t watching his movements. They stared at the wetness between my legs, the hidden swell of my breasts beneath the delicate dress unceremoniously bundled at my navel.
But they watched as Reed’s thick cock sunk within my slit.
They listened as my once silent pleas mewed into a timid moan.
They waited while he had his fill and I suffered in my own refusal to ask for the peak I deserved.
Reed angled my hips and drove deep enough within me that I called his name. It didn’t stop him. My body burst with a fervent need, but it wasn’t a fight to surrender to my step-brothers. Each of them had already feasted on me, fucked me, earned my orgasms, and claimed me as theirs.
This time?
I battled myself.
I wouldn’t speak the word. I wouldn’t submit to my own weakness. I wouldn’t let them control me so easily. But wasn’t that what Nicholas always intended?
Either I betrayed myself or I surrendered to the rules he set, the demands he wanted, the deviancies that burned through the tatters of my innocence.
Either way, he won.
My fingers slipped from the ottoman, and the quiet pace of my breathing quickened. I arched.
Reed withdrew, swearing with every passing second he was forced from my warmth.
“Not allowed,” He winked. “Gotta ask first, Sarah.”
My legs still parted for him. In the dim light cast from the projector screen, his cock glistened with my wetness. It only excited me more.
He answered my cry by plunging in me. I gripped him instead, closing my eyes and fighting the waves of intensity determined to break my mind and lose me within the rampage that was his conquering of my body.
My time with Reed was never measured in sensual heartbeats like with Nicholas or lashed pain with Max. It was an eager game, a race to finish if only to tease the other for taking so long.
Christ, was that a mistake.
I gasped against him, fighting the tension building within my core. Every thrust dizzied me with frustration. I panted his name and struggled, offered my hips and beat against his tensing forearms.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Reed grunted. “Say the magic word, Sarah. You can too.”
Absolutely not.
Or was I crazy not to?
I didn’t even know anymore.
I bit too hard against my lip and fought every coiling pound of my heart. Reed groaned, filling me in three quick thrusts.
Heat.
Too much heat.
Our bodies pressed together, and I stretched over Reed’s shuddering, thickening cock. Jet after jet of seed flooded me, and I fought the instinct to clench and join him in a shared excitement.
“Way to go, champ.” Max laughed. “I’m getting you a stop-watch for Christmas.”
Reed flipped his brother off as he pulled from me. “Let’s see you do better.”
Uh-oh.
I should have expected what was about to happen, but I hardly remembered to breathe, let alone defend myself from my step-brothers.
Max accepted the challenge. I squealed as he hauled me from the ottoman and onto his lap. My fingers dug into his t-shirt, but my timid tugs weren’t enough to deter him.
He bundled my hair in his hand.
“You gonna say the words?” He jerked my head. “Come on, baby. Just whisper them to me.”
I stayed silent. He grinned.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
He freed his hard cock from his jeans. My stilled.
“But…Reed just…”
“I don’t’ care?” Max’s words bit with lusted threat. “I’m gonna fuck you till you scream that safe word, baby.”
Oh, God. I didn’t doubt him.
I searched for Nicholas. The bastard s
at motionless, savoring a glass of red wine. His nod gave his brother permission to proceed.
The torment wouldn’t end.
But the pleasure waited only for my word to begin.
Nicholas didn’t raise a hand to punish me. I did it to myself.
I squeezed Max’s shoulders, fighting my desperation. He straddled me over his lap. I held on tight.
It didn’t prepare me.
Nothing ever prepared me for Max’s demands.
He was built to impale, to crush, to dominate and hurt and force.
And yet, I collapsed against his chest, moaning a quiet fatigue into the hollow of his shoulder. His cock slid easily within me, slickened with the heat left by Reed. The seed slammed ever deeper into me thanks to his brother’s furious thrust. Max gripped my hips with a brute strength and a profane grunt.
“Hold on, baby,” he said. “You’re gonna enjoy this.”
He stole my balance, my breath, my every thought. He hauled me to the tip of his cock, the angry and swollen head that aimed for the deepest and most sensitive part of me. I whimpered as he slammed me down just to hear my moan. The grinding of his hips forced his length deeper, harder. A complete invasion of everything I was. I stretched over him and ached against the denied release.
In any other time, any other moment, any other fantasy, I would have surrendered immediately, collapsed in his arms, and offered every last bit of my tightness.
Now?
I held my breath as he lifted my hips just to torture me once more.
Another pummeled strike. Another aching groan lost in sudden assault and denial. My thighs slickened with Reed’s seed and my own arousal, rendering me a humiliating mess of use and desire. Max laughed, impaling me onto his growing cock and watching as I shuddered with every invading thrust.
He’d break me apart before he emptied within me.
Or maybe that was his goal?
And mine.
God, I wanted to come.
I struggled within his aggression. Taken once and marked only to be stolen and fucked again. The air thickened with a primal determination, a masculine craving to control not just the whimpering woman bouncing upon a thickness too big and rough to oppose, but to conquer those who would dare to challenge their hold over me.