Chapter 1.

Darcelle's POV:

“I want an open marriage, Darcelle.”

Christopher says, still pounding into his personal assistant who smirks slyly at his statement.

Anger boils inside me as I fight back my tears.

I look at my husband of 5 years who shamelessly buries himself in another woman in front of me.

“Why are you doing this to me?”,I ask, my hands shaking from restraint.

He lets out this annoying laugh I once fell head over heels for.

“You're like a plastic mannequin. You're stiff and dry, a total defective piece. Sure, you look hot but you're the absolute worst in bed. You don't even get turned on.”

I want to smash his head into the wall and get a divorce but if I divorce him, the company I built from scratch will be split between us. He doesn't deserve one bit of it, he lay around all day, sleeping with female employees of my company while I worked my ass off to get to where it is today.

“Sure! You want an open relationship? Why not. I'll make you regret doing this to me.”, I said before stomping out of the hotel room slamming the door on my way outside.

That bastard dared call me dry? Truth? He wasn't man enough to wet me. But my college exes? They'd left me soaked and screaming for more.

Noah, Steve and Josh.

I was reminded of their names again. My college exes, the ones who worshipped me. The ones whose mere presence made me cum.

I drove back to my house and stomped up to my bedroom and started looking for a dress which was “sexy” enough for me to get railed.

I probably still have their numbers buried in my phone. Time to test that.

Fingers trembling with leftover rage, I yanked out the dress, backless silk that hugged my curves like a lover's hands. Slit high enough to flash thigh, neckline plunging to tease cleavage. Paired it with black lace thong, garters, and fuck me heels. Mirror check, smoky eyes and a red lip.

Christopher called me "defective"? I'd show him. Phone in hand, I scrolled through old contacts. Noah, Steve and Emmanuel. Heart raced. Probably ghosts by now. Thumbs flew anyway.

I asked them to come to a bar downtown, not even sure if they still use that number or if they'd ever appear. I was hungry for trouble and didn't care about the consequences anymore.

Tossed my phone away with no expectations. Just fire in my veins and a pussy already throbbing at the memories of Noah's rough hands pinning me, Steve's tongue working me through an orgasm and Emmanuel's cock stretching me wide.

The bar buzzed with eyes on me, men's stares devouring every curve, women shooting jealous glares. I knew I was the center of attention, and fuck, I loved it. Sipped whiskey slow, legs crossed like a queen on her throne.

Noah entered first. Now CEO of a tech giant, he filled the doorway, tall, ripped under his black suit, exuding that same cocky power from college. His gaze stripped me bare from across the room, ending in a smirk so dirty it soaked my thong on sight. He claimed the stool next to mine, big hand grazing my thigh. It made heat shoot straight to my core.

"Darcie, holy fuck. That dress is begging to be ripped off you, shredded slow while I watch you squirm. You're destruction poured into silk, baby. Owned my soul back then, i won't mind you owning it again

His eyes raked me head to toe again, lips curling into a slow, filthy smirk that promised absolute ruin, fingers tightening just enough on my thigh to make me bite my lip.

Steve prowled in next, real estate billionaire with sun kissed skin and a body sculpted for sin, shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease. He leaned in close, breath hot on my neck, murmuring, "Trouble walked in years ago, you. Been craving that fire ever since.

Wet for me yet, goddess? Say the word, and I'll drop to my knees right here, taste how much you missed this tongue.”

Josh arrived last, an import tycoon radiating dark danger, broad shoulders straining his jacket, scarred hands flexing. Tattoos covering his neck.

He claimed the spot on my other side, powerful thigh shoving mine open an inch, knee pressing insistent against lace, gaze burning into my soul as his callused fingers brushed my inner wrist.

"Look at you, Darcie, owning this whole damn room like the queen you are," he rasped, voice deep thunder rumbling through me. "Pure fucking addiction, the kind that wrecked my control in college, had me on my knees begging for your screams. I'm ready to worship every dripping inch of you. Just say the word.”

It had been a long time since I had last been called “Darcie” but oh lord, it felt so damn good rolling off their perfect mouths.

I knew they were ready to worship me and that's exactly what I needed today.

Noah's fingers dug deeper into my thigh, thumb circling dangerously close to lace. Steve's hand slid up my back, nails scraping silk. Josh's knee nudged wider, breath ragged.

No words needed, I rose like a goddess, leading them to the shadowed VIP room I had booked while driving here.

Inside, Noah spun me first, mouth crashing to my neck, sucking hard enough to mark while his hands cupped my ass, grinding me against his thick bulge.

"Feel that, Darcie? All for you. Gonna rip this dress and fuck you till you loose all sense.”

"Steve dropped to his knees between my legs, shoving the slit higher, hot mouth latching to inner thigh.

"Goddess wet already? Let me drink you dry, then fill you up."

His tongue teased my clit through fabric, my moan echoed.

Josh towered behind, ripping my top down to free breasts, rough palms kneading nipples to peaks. Tattoos flexed as he bit my shoulder.

"My queen. Scream for me. I'll stretch every hole of yours.”, he growled.

My phone buzzed sharply from my clutch, Christopher's name flashing like a loser's plea.