show you the right way.”
“You think you know better than me, little brother?”
“Only one way to find out.”
This wasn’t a game I’d win, and yet I couldn’t wait to play.
I didn’t struggle or fight when Max’s belt jingled. It might have dropped to the floor or struck over my bottom, and either possibility would have delighted me. Reed’s murmur urged me to suck his finger harder, faster. I imagined I savored something other than his finger.
Only one thing was missing.
One person .
Nicholas gave me to his brothers, but, afterwards? We didn’t sleep—we pawed and groped, fucked and groaned until we passed out against the twisted blankets. Nicholas’s jealousy drove him between my legs every time I whispered how deeply I had been filled.
God. How would he react if he learned Max and Reed made a game out of my submission?
It wouldn’t enrage him. Just the opposite.
I’d drown in desire before the day was over, and Nicholas would revive me only to plunge me within our passion once more.
Max’s fingers tickled over my slit.
I would explode right there, right then, just from the mere thought of my step-brothers fighting over my slit, arguing over who would take me first, trading me from hardened cock to cock as I was fucked and used and mounted like an animal in heat.
And maybe I was.
I’d trade my rest for another touch, forsake safety for another kiss, and deny my own freedom for their gifted pleasure.
It wasn’t submission, it was madness, and I trapped myself in the asylum with my three chosen torturers.
I tensed as Max leaned close, his words distracting me from the hardness grinding against my thighs.
“Be a good girl for me now, baby.” His hands roamed, but not where I hoped he’d touch. Not my slickened folds. Not my desperate slit that welcomed him, needed him. “Show Reed how I make you—”
His finger drifted too far, too fast, too much .
The nightmare struck.
I shrieked as even the gentlest rub of that area assaulted me with memory.
My stomach heaved.
I couldn’t deal with an invasion to that tender place, not yet, not so soon after Darius attempted to hurt me there. The panic overwhelmed me. I bit Reed’s finger and lunged backward, flailing and kicking to escape from Darius’s grip.
Was it Max? I didn’t know. The flashes of pain and memory blinded me.
He couldn’t touch me there.
Anywhere but there.
Tears blurred my vision. My foot connected with something hard, and Max roared. I earned my freedom in a shout and bolted from the table, tripping over a chair and collapsing against the dining room wall.
Just how I crawled when I escaped Darius.
Helpless and fighting to escape.
Max swore. His leg gave out, and he nearly collapsed, his grip white against the table’s edge. Reed rushed to help. Max only batted him away with a swipe that looked more like a sucker-punch.
I meant to apologize. I meant to help. But every word I might have uttered lodged in my throat.
Darius emerged from the archway of the dining room.
I ground myself against the wall, ripping my dress low over my exposed slit. My stomach turned as Darius grinned.
He watched me fight Max and crawl away in panic as though his son tried to attack me.
And it made him proud of his boy.
Reed hid his bitten, bleeding finger. “Didn’t know you were home, Dad.”
Max was unable to stand. I had no idea how hard I kicked him, but he had yet to unclench his jaw or look at me.
Darius nodded. “I came home early to speak with Sarah.”
My stomach dropped. Max grunted.
“Oh, by all means.” Darius grinned as I tucked the dress tighter over the places he never deserved to see again. “Please finish. Send her to my office once you’ve…done your part.”
My step-brothers didn’t answer, but I nearly screamed as he left me to their mercy.
Son of a bitch .
The memories and horrors emerged from my nightmares—a
Michael Williams, Richard A. Knaak, Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman