One Dirty Night

There was sex, and then there was this.

This riding, this rutting, this ritual of sadistic, masochistic pleasure where pain became the only thing I needed to fly.

Biting my bottom lip, Hunter yanked my mouth from his and sucked in a greedy breath. Holding my cheeks, he kept me aloft, his gaze scorching mine as Nick continued to fuck me so incredibly hard.

No rest.

No pause.

Just a never-ending thrust, thrust, thrust.

“Come for him,” Hunter commanded. “Let go and soar on all that need.”

His words knotted in my clit. His permission clotted in my stomach.

But…I couldn’t.

He wasn’t my owner in that moment.

Nicholas was.

He’d clawed out my heart and devoured it with his every rut. He’d slashed at my soul and left me in absolute tatters. My mind untethered from my body. I spiralled into darkness and carnality. Teeth bit me, pleasure tortured me, and every brutalised nerve-ending transformed into searing, slicing nightmares.

I fell into the whirlpool of it.

A never-ending chasm, falling into the deep, dark pleasure-pain. A brain-burning, synapsis-scalding euphoric submission that crippled me, consumed me, made it hard to breathe, and impossible to escape.

I was tight.

Thick.

Heavy.

Frantic.

Woefully enslaved to this deliciously dangerous paradise.

Oh God.

Oh God!

“Give her permission, Nick,” Hunter commanded. “She’s burning up.”

Nick’s fingers flexed on my hips. “Not yet.”

“Yes yet,” Hunter barked. “Her eyes are glazed, and she’s well and truly in subspace.”

I blinked and tried to laugh.

Subspace?

I didn’t know what that was, but I was here, not there.

I was in bed with two men, my body possessed by someone I thought I had a mere crush on, but it turned out…I was in love with him.

I’m…I’m in love with him.

It’s not a crush.