chapter 22

Sunlight sliced through the blackout curtains in thin, cruel strips, painting Elena’s bare skin in gold and shadow. She stirred on the massive bed, limbs heavy, thighs sticky with last night’s evidence. Her body ached in the best way—bruised hips, swollen lips between her legs, the faint throb of too many orgasms. Matteo’s arm was slung possessively across her waist, Luca sprawled at her feet like a guard dog, Nico curled against her back, breath soft on her neck.

She felt... whole. For the first time since the bedroom window shattered weeks ago.

Matteo’s eyes opened first. Dark, unreadable, but the corner of his mouth twitched when he saw her watching him.

“Morning, princess.” His voice was gravel, still thick from sleep and sex. He shifted, hand sliding down to cup her mound, fingers parting slick folds. She gasped too sensitive. “Still dripping my cum. Good girl.”

Luca groaned awake, grinning wickedly as he crawled up her body. “Fuck, she looks wrecked. My favorite look on her.” He nipped her inner thigh, making her jolt. “Bet that pussy’s already begging for round what, six? Seven?”

Nico said nothing, just pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder blade, hand gentle on her hip. Always the quiet one. Always watching.

Elena’s chest tightened. Not from fear. From something softer, scarier. She thought of her father shot, bleeding in the dirt, reaching for her even as she ran to Matteo. The guilt hit like a slap.

Matteo felt her tense. His hand stilled. “What is it?”

She swallowed. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Luca’s smile faded. He sat up, eyes narrowing. “Spit it out, baby girl.”

“I... I keep seeing him. Daddy. Bleeding. Because of me.”

The room went quiet. Matteo’s jaw clenched so hard she heard teeth grind.

Nico’s arm tightened around her. “He tried to take you. Again.”

“I know.” Her voice cracked. “But he’s still my... ”

“No.” Matteo rolled on top of her in one fluid move, pinning her wrists above her head. His cock is already half-hard pressed against her thigh. “He’s not. Not anymore. You chose us. Say it.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “I chose you.”

“Louder.”

“I chose you!” she cried.

Luca laughed darkly. “That’s better. But words aren’t enough.” He reached into the nightstand, pulling out a slim black box. Inside: a collar. Thick leather, soft-lined, engraved with M, L, N in elegant silver script. A small silver lock dangled from the front.

Elena’s breath hitched.

Matteo took it, fingers brushing her throat. “This stays on. Always. Only I unlock it.” He fastened it snug, not choking then clicked the lock. The sound echoed like a vow.

Luca traced the leather. “Looks perfect. Like she was born wearing it.”

Nico leaned in, kissing the spot just below her ear. “Ours.”

Elena trembled. The collar felt right. Heavy. Final.

But the guilt still lingered.

Matteo saw it. “You need reminding.”

He flipped her onto her stomach, yanking her hips up. Luca grabbed silk ties from the headboard, binding her wrists tight. Nico settled in front, fingers gentle on her jaw.

“Count,” Matteo ordered.

The first slap landed on her ass—Luca’s hand, sharp. She yelped.

“One.”

Another. Harder.

“Two!”

Matteo’s palm replaced Luca’s, broader, meaner. She sobbed by ten, ass flaming, cunt dripping down her thighs.

Luca laughed. “Look at that. Soaking already. Punishment turns you on, slut.”

Nico slid beneath her, mouth on her clit—slow licks, teasing. Edging. Always edging.

“Please,” she begged. “Please let me come.”

“Not yet,” Matteo growled. He notched himself at her entrance, thrust deep in one brutal stroke. She screamed around Nico’s fingers in her mouth.

Luca moved behind, slicking himself with lube. “Time to fill both holes, baby girl.”

Double penetration—Matteo in her pussy, Luca stretching her ass. Slow at first, then ruthless. Nico’s tongue never stopped, fingers pinching her nipples.

She shattered on the third orgasm squirting, crying, begging them to breed her.

“Fill me,” she sobbed. “Please make me yours forever. Put a baby in me.”

Matteo groaned, hips slamming. “That’s it. Take it all. Every drop.”

Luca followed, cursing, flooding her ass.

Nico came last on her tongue, gentle even then.

They collapsed together, Matteo unlocking the collar just long enough to kiss the red mark it left, then locking it again.

“You’re never going back,” he whispered.

Elena nodded, tears drying. “I don’t want to.”

Later, as they cleaned her up—Nico wiping between her legs, Luca feeding her bites of fruit—Matteo’s phone buzzed. A message from a contact.

Vittorio’s gone underground. Planning something big.

Matteo’s eyes darkened. “He won’t touch you again.”

Elena touched the collar. Smiled, small and dark.

“Let him try.”