Ruined By My Husband's Brothers (5)

Gabriella 

I was a live wire, vibrating with the aftershocks of a climax that had only scratched the surface of what I needed. 

Elden’s promise that they hadn’t even started on me echoed in the silence of my mind, making my vision swim. 

My black silk dress was a ruined, damp mess, clinging to the curve of my hips and the heavy, aching heat between my thighs. 

Brent moved first. He was a mountain of a man, his shadow swallowing me whole as he stood over the couch. His eyes were dark, steady, and terrifyingly certain. 

"Stand up, Gabriella," he commanded. 

The softness of his voice didn't hide the steel underneath. I rose, my knees knocking together, my body already beginning to betray me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of black silk. 

“Do you trust us, doll?”

The answer slipped right out of my mouth, “Yes, daddy.”

The smile that curved Brent's handsome face told me it was the right answer.

The fabric was cool, a fleeting caress against my feverish skin as he tied it over my eyes, sending me into a world of darkness where every other sensation became heightened.

"There you go, babygirl. You look so pretty like this, completely defenseless and waiting to be used." Brent whispered, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. I felt his large, calloused hands slide down my arms, gathering my wrists behind my back. 

The velvet-wrapped rope bit into my skin with a firm, decisive pressure, binding my hands so tightly I had to thrust my chest forward just to balance myself. 

The loss of my sight and the restraint of my hands made my heart jump. 

I was a prisoner again, but this time, it was what I wanted. What I craved. 

"We're going to take you apart, piece by piece, Gabriella. And when we're done, you'll beg for us to put you back together."

Arden’s laugh skittered across my skin like a spark. 

"Oh princesa, you look so fucking delicious like this. Helpless, bound, and dripping for us. So fucking pretty at our mercy."

I felt his knuckles graze my inner thigh, slowly hitching the silk of my dress up until the cool air of the living room hit my bare, wet pussy. 

I gasped, the exposure making my toes curl into the plush rug. I was wide open, a map of desire laid out for three men who intended to colonize every inch of me.

"On your knees," Elden’s voice cut through the dark, cold and uncompromising. 

Hands—I couldn't tell whose—pushed down on my shoulders, forcing me onto the hard marble floor. 

The contrast between the soft blindfold and the unforgiving stone under my knees made me whimper in desperate need. 

More. More, was the chant echoing in me.

I heard the sharp, metallic zip of trousers, the heavy thud of belts hitting the floor. The sound made my mouth water with primal hunger.

“Open wide, baby,” Brent commanded, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that seemed to come from the heavy, suffocating darkness surrounding me. I couldn’t see a thing, but I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he crowded into my personal space. Then, something thick, searingly hot, and velvet-smooth brushed against my trembling lips. It was the heavy, blunt head of his cock, throbbing with a rhythmic life of its own.

I parted my lips eagerly, my tongue darting out to taste him before he even moved. He didn't wait; he surged forward, a massive, salty intrusion that filled my mouth to the point of pain, forcing my jaw to stretch until it ached. I let out a muffled whimper, my throat constricting as he pushed deeper, the tip of him grazing the very back of my throat. I tried to pull back instinctively, but his hand was a vice in my hair, his knuckles digging into my scalp as he held my head captive on his length.

“That’s it. Take it all, you little traitor,” he hissed, the sound of his zipper rasping against my chin. “Think about Derek while you’re choking on his brother’s dick. Milk me like the pathetic, disloyal slut you are.”

As I swallowed around Brent’s intrusive length, trying to accommodate the sheer girth of him, I felt the air shift near my thighs. Fingers were suddenly there, ghosting over my entrance. I couldn't tell whose and the thought made my cunt clench with need.

Whoever it was didn't touch me at first; he just let me feel the heat of his hand, a cruel tease that made my inner muscles twitch in anticipation. Then, he began to toy with me. 

He circled my clit with an agonizingly light, fluttering pressure that made my vision—already dark—swim with sparks. He dipped a single, rough-calloused finger inside me, hooking it upward with a predatory precision, finding the exact spot that made my brain go white with needs Derek never even bothered to learn.

“Fuck, you’re absolutely pouring for us,” Arden groaned, his voice thick with a dark, triumphant lust, making me realize he was the one messing me up with just his fingers. I felt him slide a second finger in, stretching me open until I felt the burn. 

“I can feel your pulse thrumming against my knuckles. Tell me, Gabriella... does Derek even know how to make you this wet? Or does he just fumble around while you pretend to enjoy it? He’d lose his mind if he could see his brothers' fingers buried in his wife right now.”

I moaned around Brent’s cock, a desperate, gargling sound of agreement that vibrated through my entire skull. The sensation of being filled at both ends, unable to see which brother was touching me where, sent a surge of pure, sinful adrenaline through my veins. The vibration of my throat made Brent hiss through his teeth; his hips gave a sharp, violent thrust that buried him even deeper, forcing a tear to escape the edge of the fabric covering my eyes.

Hands that I assumed to be Elden's found my breasts then, his fingers ruthless and demanding. He didn't caress; he conquered. He pinched my nipples through the thin, damp silk of my chemise, twisting them with a sadistic pressure that sent jolts of lightning straight to my crotch.

“You’re nothing but a shared cumdump now, Gabriella,” Elden growled, his voice so deep I felt it in the floorboards beneath my knees. “Forget being a wife. You’re our toy. Say it. Tell us who you really belong to.” He reached over and shoved his thumb into my mouth alongside Brent’s cock, forcing me to suckle on him while his brother worked my throat.

I pulled back from Brent with a wet, messy pop, gasping for air that tasted like salt, musk, and betrayal. “I... I belong to you,” I whimpered, my voice a wrecked, pathetic shadow of itself. “I’m your slut. Your cumdump. Please, Elden... please just use me. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” Elden purred, and then I felt his teeth sink into the sensitive curve of my neck. He bit down hard, marking me with a claim that I knew would bruise purple and stay there for days, a branding for my husband to see.

Suddenly, I was being hoisted up. My feet left the floor as strong arms—I couldn't tell whose—carried me to the center of the room. I was laid out on the thick, expensive rug, the wool scratchy against my bare back. My wrists were untied for only a heartbeat before being jerked upward, stretched painfully above my head and secured to the heavy, cold metal leg of the coffee table. 

My legs were yanked wide, my ankles bound to the heavy armchairs on either side. I was a mess of exposed, trembling flesh, my hips tilted up by a cushion they’d shoved underneath me, leaving my pussy and ass perfectly presented to them in the shadows.

“Now the real fun begins,” Arden said. I heard the distinct, sharp click of a camera. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. They were recording this. They were filming me being ruined. The thought should have made me sick, but instead, it sent a fresh flood of lubricant down my thighs.

“Moan for the lens, mi vida,” Arden whispered, his breath hot against my inner thigh. “Let the world hear how much you love being the family whore.”