Three Beasts: A Dark Fairytale MFMM Menage Romance

by Dark Angel

But I have to take that fire and use it to fight what happened to me tonight. I can’t accept whatever hot and cold craziness that Damien washes over me. I have to get free. I resolve that if he's gone tomorrow, for any amount of time, I am going to find something and I'm going to use it to get me closer to escaping. I'm not going to turn into the person I'm truly starting to become.

  I wanted to come and have Damien lick it off. I wanted TD, wherever he was watching, to see it and want me. I wanted them both to desire me.

  I did want them both to fuck me.

  God, I can’t be this person. I'm not this kind of a stupid monster. I'm a person. I don't belong to anyone. I don’t want to belong to anyone.

  I don’t want to crawl out of this bed and crawl into Damien’s and wrap my arms around him and kiss him again. I don’t want to taste my cum on his breath again. I don’t want that.

  Nope.

  * * *

  I open my eyes after that unsatisfying sleep to find that Damien is not there for breakfast. Strange. Kiss the mysterious man that holds you captive, and he doesn’t even have breakfast with you. A stupid part of me is really hurt. But this is what I needed. The universe is giving me a chance to get free of him. I’m free of the distraction of him and now I can find something else that will help me escape. The thought of the tickets makes me shudder. This is why I need to get Damien out of my mind. He isn’t a man I'm falling for. He’s a man whose trap I'm falling for.

  How can he tell me that I’m perfect, but also plan to sell me off or something?

  Perfect for what exactly?

  I’m angry now.

  I won’t admit to myself that I’m angry because I’m hurt. No, I'm not going to do that to myself. I'm just going to forge ahead and find something.

  I grab my little dossier on Damien and I tell myself, fuck breakfast. Damien didn’t show and neither will I. That’s so childish, but I'm hanging on by a thread here okay?

  I’m totally shaken up about how much I started to release all my fears when Damien played with me in front of TD. I cannot be something to be played with.

  I can’t want that.

  I have to repeat that to myself because right now? That’s all I want. I want to crawl into his bed and breathe in the scent of him and stay there until he returns.

  I’m sad because I want to know why Damien doesn’t take me to his bed and fuck me.

  That is not what I'm supposed to think.

  Escape. Snooping, finding something and figuring out how to get the hell out of this penthouse I’m trapped in.

  I go to try the study door. I do it every time and I now have it open an ounce.

  “Sarah!” Damien is there. His hand closes over mine on the knob. I turn because he’s behind me and I cannot breathe. How can he be here? Why couldn’t I hear him?

  Oh my God.

  “Damien!” I don’t know what I'm going to say, but I immediately want to beg forgiveness.

  There’s a rage in his eyes like nothing I've ever seen. He snatches my little dossier file with notes on his schedule and such on it…oh God this is a damn nightmare.

  A little pain in my stomach tells me that I should've accepted how I feel about Damien. Even my brain is a traitor. I have no sense in me.

  “I thought…” Damien starts to say something. God, that’s fucking pain in his voice. I caused it.

  I’m shattered.

  “I’m so sorry, Damien. This isn’t what it looks like. Or it is. But I —“

  “Do not talk to me. Do not say anything, “ Damien growls. He pushes me against the door and I think he might kiss me. Or he might kill me. I deserve one of those. I’m not sure which one that I want.

  I’ll be good. That’s all I can fucking do. I can’t question anything within me right now. I feel hollowed out, like someone has scraped out everything within me.

  I mean, I know trying to escape is the normal, natural thing. But I wish desperately that I had stopped. Why did I still have this file? After how I kissed him? How he kissed me? What I’d said, asked him, and he came right for me? I knew things had changed and I ran in the other direction.

  Now I just want to delete the space between us. Kiss him, grab him. Crawl to my knees and clutch him and beg for forgiveness.

  Damien is reading the notes. I thought about if he was selling me. When he might be gone. I was thinking on paper when I wrote those things…and I’m not thinking about those things anymore. I don’t want to escape.

  God, some small part of me wants to scream that he kidnapped me, of course I wanted to escape.

  But I fucking don’t want to escape. Not now. Damien’s arms are the only place I feel like I belong. And I have goddamn ruined everything.

  Tears are streaking down my cheeks. Whatever Damien felt for me looks to be totally crushed. He fucking hates me now, and really he should.

  He can’t trust me. I never hid my conflict, but I tried to be good. Now every bit of me that I have shared with Damien is suspect, and he thinks that I’ve been lying this whole time. I want to die. Anything has to be better than how I feel right now.

  Sarah

  Damien turns to face me again, walking closer to me and that feeling of his body heat closer to me is the closest thing I have to feeling better in the hell in which my mind is trapped in. ”You went through my private papers in my study. You kept notes on how to escape. On the possible buyers." Damien throws this in my face and I flinch.

  What can I say? My eyes are welling up with more tears, and I want to cower. Damien probably thinks that I'm afraid of him. What's really happening is so far from that. I've come to trust Damien. It's this fucking moment that everything in me fractures.

  I could lose him. Really lose him. And that is how I know—I love him. I love Damien. I just want to please him. I would be sold by him if it meant he was pleased with me. I don't want to be without him, but I can't stand the cold, hard fact that I've truly betrayed him. He knows it. If he wanted me at all, I've killed that urge. Now I'm just the girl who tried to escape.

  I would say who could blame me, but that's the thing. I blame me. I blame me for keeping the notes that I made about the tickets and everything I remember about the buyers. All the notes that I kept on him. I noted his schedule. I look like I'm trying kill him, with all these notes about his schedule. The truth is that I long since gave up on getting away beyond just not wanting to be sold. I want to stay with him and I no longer want to go about it this way. I kept making those notes because they feed my obsession with Damien. I have become obsessed with him, strange as that is. I can't tell him that. I can't tell him anything. The tears welling in my eyes sting and roll down in fat droplets streaking my cheeks.

  "Damien I am so --" I try to get the words out but his hand closes over my mouth.

  His other arm grabs me. He carries me to his study, crashes everything off his desk and lays me flat on my back on my desk. Damien flings papers everywhere, rogue office supplies smack against his carpet, making a smattering of a Pollack in prosaic paperclips. I want to stop him. Move his hand from my face and demand that he allow me to speak.

  But I have no idea what I would say. I want to apologize and tell him the truth. I can't.

  "Of course you wanted to escape," Damien whispers. His eyes pour their sadness into me. His anger is tinged with sadness and I know I have truly hurt him. I don't want to be able to do that. I don't want him to care about me. I want him to just sell me. I haven't shown him the kindness that he's shown me. I'm crazy for thinking this but there's something about Damien. I need him. I need him to want to keep me. But he always seems so hurt and I can't bear the idea that I'm what is making him hurt now. If I'm insane for wanting him, then he is the same kind of insane, and we need to stay together. But I've hurt him. If there was any chance that I could be his, I have killed it. Why hadn't I destroyed the evidence? Why did I keep peeking? Why did I keep a long list of everything he's done? My throat is raw already from the sobs wracking me. I realize I'm groaning against his hand
, which he presses down harder.

  Damien swallows. "Don't say a fucking word," he says is an eerily calm voice. His hand moves from my mouth. I don't move on the spot for a moment. For some stupid reason I think he is going to kiss me. But why? Why would he kiss me as I cry and lie on his desk where he put me? I lean up to kiss him and his arms capture my forearms and his mouth closes over my mine, his body crushing my own. The firm wall of his chest against me makes my heart beat impossibly fast. I need this. I kiss him like I can show him how I truly feel. How sorry I am. If I only show him with my lips on his, my tongue caressing his, I have a prayer of making him understand. I want to tell him I love him.

  It is a foolish, girly thought, but I want to be able to tell him that I love him on a day he'll want to remember it. How can I think this when I know he wants to forget me? Maybe it'll be easy for him to forget me. I can't have that. I kiss him with every ounce of energy I have and I send my love, my passion, through my body. My arms are pinned or I would wrap my arms around him. My legs wrap around him without a thought. My hips are grinding against his, and I feel how hard he is. At least his cock still wants me. I'm wet instantly, the feel of his mouth on mine enough to arouse me, but knowing that cock wants me makes having a pussy worth it. I fucking crave him. I ache for him.

  Just as quick as his mouth was on me, it's gone. He stalks away from me and storms from the room, locking me inside. I hear the click of the lock and try to follow after him but I can't.

  "Damien!" I yelp out. I beat my fists against the door. I need to make this better. My tears fall again, they crash against my prison. I have to do whatever Damien wants.

  I have to please him.

  I have to be sure that this is the last time I ever disappoint him.

  I don't know how or when, but when I have a chance, I have to make this better.

  I know I'm poison to him. That's why he's always so conflicted. I know I need to let him go. But I'm too selfish to think I can do that. Can he sell me when all I want is to be his? I will cross that bridge when I get there, because right now I need to be able to make him see that I'm sorry. I'm going to be good. So good.

  Maybe I can be good enough that he'll forgive me.

  But I know that I'll never forgive myself for tearing him apart.

  I can't logically parse this situation. I shouldn't be upset. I know that somewhere in the sense of this, I should be frustrated that he is upset. But all I hear is my heart telling me that I've hurt him. I've flayed my inner sense of reason long ago because I'm part of Damien's world and I desperately want to remain. Yet, now, I think I'll be nothing but a cask. I didn't mean to hurt him. I wanted to be good. But I was foolish. It's foolish that I thought I could ever get away. And do what?

  All I want is Damien. I have to find my way back to him.

  If he wants me. And I know he's conflicted; I know he was going to sell me. What I don't really know is if he ever wanted me at all. I breathe, trying to focus on inhaling and exhaling, dropping my body down to the floor. I'm lifeless and numb. I let him down and don't know if being good will mean that I'm worth selling, or if it can truly lead to forgiveness.

  I wish I could hate Damien. Damien, the man who shouldn't seem different than my father. My father would sell me. Damien would sell me.

  But right now I want to cash in on what's left of my soul to save Damien's. I fear that no one will ever see the man behind the sadness, the anger. He's lonely. I couldn’t see any of this about him until it was too late and I had already thrown it away. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance to save at least Damien. I’ll get far away from him and maybe that'll be my final chance to not disappoint him.

  My stomach is in knots. I don’t know what the hell I'm supposed to do. I wouldn’t know how to figure it out if I even thought I could.

  Sarah

  "Sarah," I hear a man moan my name.

  A man that isn’t Damien.

  I turn and see him standing in front of my doorless door frame. His body is like a magnet to my attraction, but I have to ignore it.

  "You're..." Here? I can't form the word. I can't breathe. I don't want to betray Damien. I don't care how attracted to that voice I am. I have to ignore it.

  Why is he here? Is that…oh God, is this TD?

  Oh God, did Damien already sell me?

  I betray him, and he sells me right away. I guess that is fair but I want to die.

  Sure, I want to fuck TD. But I need Damien. How can I have no interest in men and then have two that I desperately want?

  Who the hell am I?

  "Damien told me that you have been quite the busy little girl. I’m TD. Trevor Davries.” He stalks toward me. Sits next to me on the bed."Are you still planning to run?" He looks in my eyes and I know, if I lie, he'll know.

  "I don't want to leave Damien," I answer. That's the truth.

  Trevor laughs, and it stings. Damien only let me out of the study and hefted me off to my room after several hours. He wouldn't talk to me. I didn't dare to talk to him. And Trevor laughs? It pisses me off. Trevor is so fucking cocky and I don't know how I can find it attractive.

  But then I see how he smiles while he's laughing at me and I know. God, Trevor is like the devil of sex. He's pure perfection and devilishly aware of it. One of his fingers strokes up my bare arm. The chills, evident to us both, further serve to amuse him. My nipples get rock hard at his touch. It burns in an exciting, dizzying way.

  I can't do this. He can't. I need to figure out what the hell is going on. "Does Damien know you're here? Did he—did you --"

  "I know."

  Damien is walking through the doorway now. All the breath falls out of my lungs, crashing like broken glass from a bullet's impact. "Damien, I--" Trevor's mouth closes over mine. I want to kiss him but I push away.

  "No, let him kiss you. I know you want him," Damien says. I don't understand. I search for the wounds of his previous pain. Is this is a test?

  "Will it make you happy, Damien?" I plead. "Is that what you want?"

  Trevor laughs again and pulls me onto his lap. Damien walks behind my back and presses his mouth to my neck. "Yes, baby girl. It would make me very happy to taste what I know you want to give me."

  "But--" I squirm on Trevor's lap. He pulls my wrists behind my back and Damien pulls them to his cock.

  "You're gonna fuck us both, Sarah. You want us both, don't you?" Damien says.

  I'm paralyzed. I need Damien to know how much I care about him. I don't want this to be a test.

  "Stop!" I cry out, shaking my hands and my body. They're both pinning me down so I don't accomplish much movement, but both of them still continue. "Let me up!" I narrow my eyes at Trevor.

  Trevor releases me and I jump to a stand. I step back several feet because they are both so much taller than me that it feels almost impossible for me to have enough space.

  I put my hands up in a 'stop' motion. Thankfully, neither one of them is actively pursuing me and they’re letting me have my space -- at least right now. "I don't want to be tested. I don't want you to be testing me, Damien. I don't know how to trust that--"

  "You want to talk about trust?" Damien says and I see the wounds rise to the surface.

  I rush to him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my head against his chest. I can feel his fists are balled next to me but not holding me. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I wasn't going to leave. I should have stopped. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I'm trying not to cry.

  "Shh," Trevor says, and I feel him behind me. "He knows. You both are too goddamn stubborn to see what's right in front of you. You haven't even fucked and you are already an old married couple in your own twisted little way. It's cute."

  "Your sense of humor is severely twisted," Damien says, but his voice is light now. Has his pain melted away? Did Trevor diffuse him with his bout of humor?

  I look up and kiss the bottom of Damien's chin. Damien's eyes look at me with so much emotion.

  "I know this, Sarah,
you wanted to run until I showed you to buyers. You gave yourself to me...and you came alive when you met Trevor," Damien says.

  Oh shit.

  "Damien, I..." I want to tell him that I love him. But this is all so wrong. I can't.

  "You don't have to worry," Trevor says.

  I can't explain it. I shouldn't trust him. But everything about Trevor makes my head scream. He makes my whole body scream.

  "Let us take care of you," Damien says. His voice is thick with lust.

  He said 'us' and that means...

  Both.

  How can this be happening? Why isn't Damien mad? Why isn't Damien jealous? And if I love Damien like I know I do, how can I be okay with this? More than okay with it. I want this.

  "Damien," I say, and I can hear how frantic my voice is. I look into his eyes, hold his face to look at me. "I can't hurt you again," I tell him. That's the truth.

  He takes both my wrists and holds them over my head. "Baby girl, I'm going to fuck you with Trevor so damn good you won't remember anything before that moment when we both slam inside you. I need this; I want this. You want to be a good girl?"

  Fuck, that's my goddamn undoing. My pussy aches instantly and even though I'm overwhelmed, I can let go. I'm safe with Damien. I trust him.

  Trevor puts his hand flat on my heart. It isn't about my breast, not right now, I realize. His eyes are searching mine like he can read everything about me from a single look that pours out my soul into his mind. That's what it feels like. "Are you okay?"

  I nod. "I am." That's the truth. This is really happening. We all want it.

  Maybe I should wonder why I'm getting sold on the Virgin Market yet I'm...not going to be a virgin very soon. After what Damien said, I don't think he's going to tease me. No, I think that I am really giving my virginity to Damien and Trevor like all the fantasies that played in my mind.

  Trevor's hand drops to tear down my nightgown. It is a flimsy fabric that was sheer anyway, but I gasp at the sensation of it pulling off me and the air hitting my bare skin. My nipples are hard and pressed out far because of how Damien is holding my hands up. Trevor returns with rope and ties my wrists, and then they direct me out of my room and to Damien's bedroom. They take me to the center of Damien's massive bed and secure my tied wrists to a hook I now see in the ceiling. A ring I suppose is for this exact purpose.