Lies After Marriage

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

🔞🔞🔞 MATURE CONTENT 🔞🔞🔞

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO INTENSE INTIMATE SCENES🔞⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Eve's scream was muffled by Silas's hand clamped over her mouth as Damon's fingers breached her from behind, stretching her in a way that made panic spike through her exhausted body.

"Shh," Silas murmured against her ear, his dark eyes gleaming with predatory satisfaction. "You can take it. You're going to take all of us. At the same time."

Her eyes widened, a protest forming even as her treacherous body clenched around Damian's cock still buried deep in her pussy. She'd survived six weeks of their brutality, but this...

"No," she tried to say against Silas's palm, the word coming out as a desperate whimper.

"Yes," Damian corrected, his voice cold steel as his hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. He held her immobile, impaled on him, while Damon worked another thick finger into her ass. "You signed a contract, little dancer. Your body belongs to us. All of it."

She tried to squirm away, but Damian's grip was iron. His cock throbbed inside her, and she felt how much her resistance aroused him....the bastard liked when she fought.

"Relax," Damon's voice came from behind, dark amusement coating every word as he scissored his fingers, stretching her wider. "Fighting only makes it hurt more. Though if you want it to hurt..." His laugh was pure sin. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

A third finger pushed in, and Eve's back arched, her body trying to escape the intrusion. It was too much, too intense, bordering on pain even as Damon's other hand reached around to circle her clit with maddening precision.

"There she goes," Damon purred. "Feel how wet she's getting? Her cunt is dripping all over Damian's cock. Our little dancer loves this."

"Liar," she tried to gasp, but Silas's hand tightened over her mouth.

"Don't lie to us, Eve," Silas said softly, his free hand tangling in her hair and pulling her head back until she was forced to look up at him. His dark eyes burned into hers. "We can smell your arousal. Taste your need. Your body betrays you every time."

Damon's fingers withdrew, and for a moment she thought he'd changed his mind. Relief flooded through her.

Then she felt the blunt pressure of his cock against her ass, and terror spiked through her veins.

"Wait—" she begged against Silas's palm. "Please, I can't...."

"You can," Damian stated, his gray eyes glacial as he stared up at her. "And you will."

Damon pushed forward, breaching her with agonizing slowness. The burn was immediate and overwhelming. Eve's entire body went rigid, every muscle locking up as she tried to process the impossible fullness.

"Breathe," Silas commanded, finally removing his hand from her mouth. "Breathe through it, or it'll be worse."

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Damon was too big, stretching her too wide, and with Damian still buried in her pussy, she felt split in two.

"Please," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "It's too much...."

"It's perfect," Damon groaned, pushing deeper despite her protest. "Fuck, she's so tight. Fighting me every inch."

Damian's hands on her hips tightened, holding her in place as his brother continued the relentless invasion. "Stop fighting," he ordered. "Accept it. Accept us."

Eve's nails dug into Damian's shoulders, drawing blood. The pain seemed to please him because he smiled.....cold and cruel and devastating.

"That's it," he murmured. "Mark me. Claim me while we claim you."

Damon finally bottomed out, and the three of them froze. Eve couldn't move, couldn't breathe, utterly impaled and filled beyond capacity. She'd never felt so completely owned, so thoroughly dominated.

"Look at her," Damon's voice was strained, his control fracturing. "Look at how perfectly she takes us both."

"Not both," Silas reminded him, and Eve's eyes flew open in horror.

She'd forgotten about him.

Silas moved in front of her, his hand still fisted in her hair as he freed his cock with the other. It was thick and hard, and she knew exactly where he intended to put it.

"Open," he commanded.

She shook her head weakly, but he simply tugged her hair harder, the sharp pain making her gasp.

The moment her mouth opened, he pushed inside.

The taste of him flooded her senses—salt and masculine dominance. He didn't give her time to adjust, pushing deep until she gagged, tears streaming faster down her face.

"Easy," he murmured, though his grip never loosened. "Relax your throat. Take me deeper."

She couldn't. It was physically impossible. She was too full, too stretched, too overwhelmed. Every hole claimed, every protest silenced, completely at their mercy.

"Now," Damian's voice cut through her panic. "Now we fuck her properly."

They moved in synchronization—a brutal choreography they'd clearly perfected. Damian withdrew as Damon pushed in, the competing sensations making her mind fracture. Then they reversed, and she was caught in an endless rhythm of invasion and retreat, never empty, never able to catch her breath.

Silas controlled her head, fucking her mouth with the same merciless precision his brothers used on her body. When she gagged, he pulled back slightly, but only to let her gasp air before pushing deeper.

"Look at me," Silas demanded, and her tear-filled eyes met his. "I want to watch you break for us."

She was breaking. God, she was shattering into a thousand pieces.

But underneath the overwhelming intensity, underneath the pain and the fullness and the utter degradation of being used by three men at once, something else was building.

Pleasure. Dark, twisted, devastating pleasure.

"She's close," Damon groaned, his pace increasing. "I can feel her ass clenching around me. She's going to come from this."

"No," she tried to protest around Silas's cock, but it came out as a muffled moan.

"Yes," Damian corrected, his thumb finding her clit and circling with cruel precision. "You're going to come while we're all inside you. You're going to fall apart and prove that you were made for this. Made for us."

The pressure built impossibly higher. Her body was a livewire of sensation.....pain and pleasure blurring until she couldn't distinguish between them. Every thrust sent shockwaves through her system. Every time they moved, she felt stretched beyond capacity, owned beyond redemption.

"That's it," Damon encouraged roughly. "Stop fighting it. Let go."

Damian's fingers on her clit became more insistent, his cock driving deeper with every thrust. Silas's hand in her hair tightened, holding her exactly where he wanted her as he fucked her mouth harder.

She couldn't hold back. Couldn't resist.

The orgasm ripped through her like a hurricane, violent and all-consuming. Her body convulsed, every muscle contracting around them simultaneously. She screamed around Silas's cock, the sound raw and broken.

"Fuck," Damon snarled, his control snapping. "She's....fuck...."

His release hit him hard, and she felt the heat of it flooding her from behind. The sensation triggered Damian, whose iron control finally fractured as he came inside her with a low growl that sounded almost feral.

Silas lasted moments longer, his dark eyes locked on hers as he finally let go, spilling down her throat with a soft command: "Swallow."

She did, because she had no choice. Because they owned her. Because some dark part of her wanted to.

When they finally withdrew, she collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. Her body was wrecked, trembling, marked inside and out. She couldn't move, couldn't think, could barely breathe.

Strong hands lifted her—Damian, carrying her to the massive bed. They cleaned her with surprising gentleness, though possessive touches marked every movement. Warm cloths wiped away evidence of their brutality, soothing oil rubbed into her abused flesh.

"You did well," Damian murmured, and the praise made something in her chest tighten painfully.

Damon pressed a kiss to her shoulder, right over the bite mark he'd left earlier. "Better than well. You were fucking perfect."

Silas lay beside her, his hand cupping her face as his thumb brushed away dried tears. "You took everything we gave you. Not many could."

She wanted to hate them. Wanted to hate herself for responding. But exhaustion pulled her under before she could process the complicated tangle of emotions.

As consciousness faded, she felt them arrange themselves around her—a cage of heat and muscle and possessive dominance. Damian's arm locked around her waist. Damon's hand splayed possessively over her hip. Silas's fingers still tangled in her hair.

Even in sleep, they claimed her.

Her last thought before darkness took her was terrifying in its clarity:

I don't want this to end.

The contract had four months and two weeks left. One hundred and thirty-four days until she was free to walk away.

But lying here, wrecked and owned and somehow safe in the arms of three brutal alphas, Eve wondered if she'd ever truly be free again.

Or if she'd ever want to be.

SIX WEEKS INTO THE CONTRACT.

FOUR  WEEKS UNTIL THE BINDING SPELL BREAKS.

FOUR WEEKS UNTIL EVE DISCOVERS WHAT SHE REALLY IS.

FOUR WEEKS UNTIL EVERYTHING CHANGES.

BUT TONIGHT, SHE IS SIMPLY THEIRS.

COMPLETELY.

BRUTALLY.

AND PERFECTLY THEIRS.