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“I’m going to lead this,” Damon says, moving to the leather chair. The way the light glints off his mask makes the moment feel like a fantasy. “You’ll do everything I command: when to go, when to stop, when to push harder, when to pull back…”

“Are you sure–”

“Don’t question me,” Damon says, sounding like a man in charge. My belly flips at his confidence. “In this room, I’m still your King, and you have no choice but to obey.”

Hunter and I face one another, our directive clear: we’re at Damon’s mercy.

“Take off her cardigan,” Damon commands, voice low and authoritative. “Slowly.”

Hunter hesitates only a second before complying. He moves behind me, his hands shaking slightly as he unbuttons my cardigan and slides it off my shoulders. The rough pads of his fingertips trail down my arms, and I shiver.

“Good,” Damon says. “Now the skirt.”

Hunter unzips my plaid skirt and lets it drop to the floor, leaving me in just my fishnets, boots, and soaked black lace panties. I can feel the tension rolling off him—that dark urge he’s always fighting.

Damon sits in the leather chair like a king on his throne, legs spread, watching us with sharp, hungry eyes.

“Touch her,” he orders. “Run your hands over her body. Feel how much she wants you.”

Hunter shifts closer. His inked hands glide up my sides, over my breasts, thumbs brushing my hard nipples. I moan softly, arching into his touch. “Christ,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking beautiful. It kills me to be around you and not do what I want.”

My pulse thrums at his words, at the intensity behind them. But I can also tell he’s being careful–too careful.

“Don’t baby her,” Damon says, anticipating my wants. “She can take it. Squeeze her tits the way you want to.”

Hunter’s grip tightens, rougher now, and I gasp at the sharp pleasure. He pinches my nipples until I whimper, the sting shooting straight between my legs. “Oh, God.”

“That’s it,” Damon praises. “Look how wet she is for you.”

Hunter’s fingers dip under my panties, feeling the slick heat that should be embarrassing, but I don’t care.

“Tell her what you want to do to her.”

When he speaks, Hunter’s voice is hoarse. “I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. I want to feel how tight your pussy is when you clench around me. I want you to scream my name, but I…” he swallows the filthy words, stopping.

“No buts. You won’t hurt her,” Damon cuts in firmly. “Not more than she wants, isn’t that right, Doll Baby?”

I nod, heat spiking across my skin. I want what Hunter wants. So bad. “Use me, Hunter. Don’t be afraid.”

“Bend her over the bed,” Damon says. “Maybe you’ll stop hedging if you can’t see her face.”

Hunter guides me forward, a flat hand on my back pushing me down. I bend at the waist, thighs pushed into the edge of the mattress. I brace my hands on the silk sheets, ass up, heart pounding.

“Pull her panties down. Spread her open.”

Hunter obeys, dragging the lace down my thighs. I feel exposed, dripping, completely at their mercy. His hands move to my inner thighs, and he spreads me wide.

“Fuck yes.” Damon groans, eyes half-lidded as he runs his hand down the front of his pants. “Such a pretty pussy, don’t you think?”

“The best,” Hunter agrees, fingers barely touching me.

“Jesus Christ, if you don’t eat her out, I’m going to do it myself.”

The threat works. Behind me, Hunter drops to his knees. His hands move to my hips, and his thumbs part me. I’m ready for it, but I jerk forward anyway when he buries his face between my legs. His tongue is greedy, licking and sucking, the roughness I’ve been craving finally breaking through. I cry out, pushing back against his mouth.

Damon stands and moves closer, like he can’t stay away, fisting my hair gently to lift my head. “You like his mouth on you, baby?”

“Yes,” I moan. “God, yes.”