The Devil's Daughter

by Ophelia Bell

  “Ho-ly fuck,” Baz says when he bottoms out inside me, then begins rocking his hips. I am in complete agreement, but have no words. When he settles on a rhythm, I want more.

  I push up, bracing myself on Drake’s shoulders. He takes my hands and threads his fingers through mine, lifting them to give me more leverage to push against. The movement forces me to rise, the angle altering the sensation of Baz’s cock in my ass to something even more mind-blowing, but it also allows me to more easily bounce back against him. The added benefit is that Drake now has access to my breasts, and he takes advantage of it, capturing one nipple and sucking, followed by the other.

  I throw my head back and moan, eagerly taking Ben’s mouth when he bends over me for a kiss. I release one of Drake’s hands to grab onto the back of Ben’s neck. He holds my head against one palm, looking into my eyes while his brother rams into my ass over and over.

  “You were always the perfect woman for us, Ellie,” Ben says. “This is just proof.”

  Then he slides one hand down my belly and pushes several fingers into my aching pussy. My vision goes hazy when he finds my G-spot, fucking in and out with his palm rubbing my clit and his fingers hooked just so.

  “Let go,” Ben says into my ear. “We’ll catch you.”

  I nod, but hold on a little longer, waiting until I feel Baz start to lose it. He clutches harder at my hip and shoulder where each of his hands rest, then buries his face against my other ear.

  “Fucking love you,” he murmurs, then grunts as he comes.

  I let go entirely then, my cry echoing as my entire body becomes one giant, throbbing pulse of ecstasy.

  42

  Elle

  I enjoy being the meat in a Drake and Baz sandwich for a few minutes, lying limp between them until Baz gently extracts himself and I dimly register him putting on his pants. Ben stands and does the same, and I drift in a sea of bliss with Drake gently caressing my back while I use him for a bed.

  A little while later, I refocus enough to find myself cradled in one of the twins’ arms as he carries me down the corridor to the elevator. At first I’m not sure which one—I don’t usually mix them up, but my mind and body are so spent I can’t tell up from down. I figure it out when I register the bandage on Ben’s arm as he walks ahead of us to call the elevator. He glances back at me, and his face softens into a weary, but sated smile.

  “You’re damn sexy in all your states, but this is a new one. I think it’s my favorite—fucked stupid.”

  “Hey now, who’re you calling stupid? I was Valedictorian.”

  “Psh, you hadn’t had three epic dicks when you were Valedictorian.”

  I giggle, my sleepy brain desperate to turn the word into a dick joke. Ben lifts an expectant eyebrow, but I come up short.

  “Ugh, I got nothing. You’re right, you really did fuck me stupid. Hey, where’s Drake?”

  “Checking in with the captain. He’ll join us later. We have a mission to get you cleaned up and ready for bed.”

  I sigh and snuggle closer to Baz’s chest, happy to be held this way, despite the thrill I got out of telling them what to do earlier. It’s a craving I want to explore even more, but right now I’m more than content to be taken care of.

  They take me straight to Drake’s room and into his shower. Despite having more than enough room, the twins remain in close contact when they stand me in the center of the spacious stall. After a moment, Ben grabs the body wash and a cloth and urges me to turn toward him.

  “Arms up,” he says, then runs soapy hands from my elbows to my breasts.

  Arousal pools between my thighs almost instantly, and I moan. Head throbbing with fresh need, I reach for the soap and lather my own hands, then take hold of each of their cocks.

  They let out nearly simultaneous grunts, and harden after only a few strokes.

  “Want you both inside me,” I say, barely able to articulate through my desire. But I frown when I consider they might not be down for that. “Would that be too weird for you? If it is, it’s okay.”

  “I’m more concerned about breaking you,” Ben says with an amused tilt to his mouth. “You’ve been fisted, then had two dicks, then one in your ass. I’d like to be able to fuck you again after tonight, you know.”

  “You know Ben and I are like two halves of a whole,” Baz says. “Giving you pleasure with him is a no-brainer.”

  Ben drops his gaze to my breasts, then reaches out and tweaks my nipples once more on his way to rinse his soapy hands off beneath the water. Then he drops one hand between my thighs, slides two fingers between my folds, and strokes back up from the center. His eyes go dark and glassy.

  “Fuck, you’re still wet.” He brings his fingers to his nose and sniffs, then slips them into his mouth. “Tastes like me and Drake together, I think.”

  I squeeze his dick and he growls, surging close and wrapping his arms around me. I hike myself up with my arms around his neck, using his shoulders for leverage. He backs against the nearest wall, leaning against it for support, then easily hoists me up with his hands on my thighs.

  As he lowers me, I reach between us to grab his cock. Enough water has rid it of the soap, and I let him lower me onto it, head falling back as he fills me again.

  Baz is there, closing in behind me and pressing his mouth to my throat. I cling to Ben’s body, rising until just his tip is inside me. Baz widens his stance, holding my hip with one hand while he presses his cock to my entrance alongside his twin’s.

  Then they’re both inside me, and fuck me if the sensation isn’t even better than the last time. My nerve endings are sensitive and raw enough for the pleasure to build more rapidly than before. Understanding my need, Baz reaches around between me and Ben and strokes my clit.

  They move slowly, without any sense of urgency, and with synchronicity so perfect it really is like they’re two halves of a whole. The rocking thrusts of both their cocks filling me over and over becomes hypnotic, and Baz seems to sense the rising tide of my pleasure, backing off with his fingers on my clit to hold me at that razor’s edge even longer.

  “Fuck, this is better than anything I’ve ever felt. I love you, Elle,” Ben murmurs in my ear. “I want to fuck you all night.”

  Baz hums his agreement, lips grazing my jaw. I twist my head to kiss him, tasting brine-tinged water and Scotch on his tongue. In all my dirty fantasies about these two, this was the last scenario that ever occurred to me, but I don’t want it to end any more than Ben does.

  Our energy is flagging, though, and so is our control. Our bodies want what they want, and all three of us are too tired now not to surrender. It’s crazy how fast it happens after how long we’ve been at it, yet it still feels like another eternity suspended between them when all three of us climax together.

  Baz stumbles back, nearly crashing through the glass door before righting himself with a laugh. “Good thing Drake wasn’t here, or we’d have destroyed his shower.”

  I start to clean myself, but they stop me a little too eagerly. Ben drops to his knees, and Baz gives him a squirt of soap so he can lather up my legs, gently working the suds through my folds while his brother washes between my ass cheeks.

  “Spread your legs,” Ben says gruffly.

  I brace my hands on the wet, tiled wall in front of me and widen my stance, leaning forward. Their fingers are no longer making business-like scrubbing motions, but have turned into slow, exploratory caresses.

  Groaning, I say, “I don’t think I can come again. I definitely don’t think I can fuck you again for at least a day.”

  “It’s okay. This is for you,” Ben says, leaning forward and kissing the crest of my hip.

  He strokes my clit and I hang my head, panting through the pleasure. Behind me, Baz begins teasing my asshole. I’m a little sore, but not so much that I want him to stop. The soap doesn’t even sting; it tingles a little when he pushes a finger into me, but that’s it.

  It isn’t until Ben latches onto my nipple that I lose it,
crumbling swiftly and completely and nearly losing my ability to stand. I’m amazed that he could even bring me over again after everything, but my body responds so perfectly to them both.

  We all rinse and step out for towels, then fall into bed naked after we dry off. The decadence of being comfortably lodged between them feels sinful, but we’re all too spent now to try anything else.

  I’m only half-aware of Drake’s arrival. The shower comes on and runs for several minutes, then he enters the room in nothing but a towel, which he drops before climbing into bed behind Ben.

  “I love you,” I whisper to the room, my heart soaring when a chorus of “I love you toos” answers.

  The next few days are like living in a dream. We don’t bother with work or the outside world at all. Drake already let his secretary know he was taking time off, and that he’d approved my time off too. And since the twins work for him, they’re still technically on the job.

  The weather gets colder, which encourages longer mornings in bed enjoying each other’s company, but we also have several long nights up on deck around the gas fireplace, simply talking. It turns out I know more about the twins than I thought, but they still surprise me. I lost touch with them after graduation, so the years they spent under my father’s tutelage are a mystery.

  We make love every chance we get, and with a smaller crew on the yacht, we worry less about other people interrupting us. But the lack of care we take at sticking to the bedroom does have its risks.

  On the third day, we’ve just come in from the pool and are scrounging for snacks in the galley when Baz opens the fridge and discovers that night’s dessert of chocolate mousse the chef has prepared in advance. Needless to say, all three guys get ideas, and the next thing I know, Drake’s dipping fingers into one small dish of the dessert and coming at me with it. We’re all still in our swimsuits, and my top is soon half-off with a chocolatey dollop coating one nipple and Drake about to lick it off.

  I’m just relieved the guys haven’t managed to get me fully undressed by the time the captain walks in—then promptly pivots and walks back out.

  Later that afternoon, I head up to the bridge deck and find Theo at the helm, gazing at the horizon. The creases beside his eyes and mouth deepen when he smiles, but I don’t see any hint of judgment, which is a relief.

  “Ms. Santos,” he says by way of greeting, giving me a small, formal nod.

  “Hi,” I answer with a little wave. “Please call me Elle. You may as well, after what you saw.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “I didn’t see anything but the boy I think of as a son finding happiness for the first time in his life.”

  “Still, I want to apologize… for all of us. I realize the Brizo is technically your home. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and I really hope you don’t keep that one, for Drake’s sake. But I might suggest a few places I’m less likely to wander into. The game room and the theater are good options. Basically anywhere but here, the galley, and the engine room.”

  “There’s a theater?” I ask, eyebrows shooting up. “I admit I still need to do some exploring of this boat.”

  I knew about the game room, at least. The night after the gala, we unwound there with a game of pool until Baz and Ben discovered a cabinet containing a few different gaming consoles. The four of us spent the rest of the evening trying to kill each other in virtual fantasy worlds.

  “Yes. That’s not to say I don’t love films, but I prefer to watch them in my bunk.”

  “Not in here?” I ask, pointing to one of half-dozen different screens arrayed in front of his leather captain’s chair.

  “The bridge is just for steering her. I let myself get distracted at the helm, we’re in trouble.”

  “Is there much actual steering to do on open water like this?” I gesture out the expanse of windows that wrap nearly the entire way around us.

  “You’d be surprised,” he says, then points out each of the instrument screens that measure and track different metrics, such as current, wind speed, water depth, and a radar that warns of other boats and landmasses. For the first time, I see a map of our heading and realize we’re not far from the San Francisco Bay. “Especially when we hit more populated waters like this. We’re more likely to come across other vessels out here.”

  “Is that what this blip is? Another boat?” I point at the radar screen where a small dot lights up every time the device cycles.

  “Yep. She’s been out there for the past few hours. Same heading as us, it looks like. Might be a cruise liner, which means they’ll likely drop anchor soon for a port stop.”

  “Why did you decide to take us north and not south?”

  His eyes crinkle and he smiles a little. “Hurricanes.” When I lift my eyebrows, he elaborates. “Calmer waters where it’s cooler. Alaska’s beautiful in May and June.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know. For some reason I thought Drake told you about Amador or Delgado. They live in Mexico.”

  He gives me a shrewd look, his lips tightening. “He did tell me. That factored in, but I’d have chosen to go north anyway. No sense chasing more trouble than we need to.”

  “Makes sense. Thank you for explaining.”

  He nods, but his attention is fixed on the other boat. He’s polite, but unsmiling when I excuse myself.

  43

  Ben

  When the captain’s clear, crisp voice wakes me out of a sound sleep, I expect to see him standing over my bed. Instead the sound is coming from a speaker in the wall over the nightstand, and I’m up like a shot when he informs us we’re being boarded and to come to the deck armed.

  Baz is right behind me when we head to our rooms for our guns. Elle stands in my doorway, eyes wide, with Drake right behind her.

  “You two stay in the room and lock the door,” I command. “Baz and I will sort this out.”

  “Is it Corluka? How did they find us?” Elle asks, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped around herself. “Was it the boat Captain Theo saw yesterday? I didn’t believe him when he said it was nothing. He looked worried.”

  “Must’ve been,” I mutter, kicking myself for discounting it. The captain pointed it out to us late last night. If it was a cruise liner, it should’ve headed into the Bay, but instead was still keeping pace several miles west of us.

  “If it’s Miles, I should try talking to him,” Drake says. “He’s my half-brother, after all. Maybe I can negotiate.”

  “Fuck that,” I say. “We know the man wants you dead. The fact that the last guy who tried and failed to kill you committed suicide, rather than face who hired him, suggests he won’t listen to reason.”

  “And he’s your half-brother,” Baz adds. “The half that came from a man you were willing to kill to protect innocent lives.”

  “Maybe it isn’t him,” Elle offers, making a valiant attempt at optimism. “Maybe it’s the Coast Guard or something.”

  Drake shakes his head. “Theo wouldn’t have woken us up for that. He’d be able to handle the Coast Guard. No, this is someone else. If it’s Miles and he has Corluka backing him, he’d have more resources than a typical VP of Typhon. And he did just buy a yacht as fast as the Brizo. It came with a crew and was ready to sail out of the San Diego Harbor Sunday morning. If they were pushing the engines full-tilt, they’d be able to catch up with us. We’ve been taking it relatively slow to conserve power.”

  “Well, we’re about to find out who it is. Stay close to an intercom. We’ll let you know when it’s safe,” I say.

  Drake nods, pulls Elle back into his bedroom, and closes the door. I wait until I hear the lock engage before meeting my brother’s eyes.

  “Take the stairs,” he says. “You head to the forward deck, I’ll go aft.”

  With a nod, I jog to the companionway leading to the main deck and head up. The steps stop at a hatch that opens like a big trunk between two seating areas just outside the salon, with a door in front and an u
pper cover that opens vertically. The hatches themselves are made of tinted glass, so I have a visual of the deck on the other side, but no one can see me.

  A shadow moves through the dimly lit salon, and another follows, heading toward the interior of the yacht. I wait a beat before carefully unlatching the front hatch, leaving the upper one secured, and am grateful that the hinges pivot smoothly and silently, a testament to how methodical Theo is about taking care of the Brizo.

  Keeping to the shadows, I creep after the intruders, following them through the lounge, then past the dining room. They seem to be looking for a way down, and one finds the elevator, motioning to the other and speaking a language I don’t understand, but sounds vaguely Slavic.

  One of the men steps into the elevator when it opens, and I seize the moment to step forward and slam the butt of my gun onto the other man’s head. His friend shouts, but the elevator door closes before he can react. I leave the unconscious body on the ground and sprint back to the companionway, ready to catch the second man the moment he comes out of the elevator.

  I’m too late. When I round the corner from the stairwell, a shot rings out, and I curse and step back as the bullet splinters into the wall to the side of the bannister. Back to the wall, I carefully peek past the corner, gun at the ready, and return fire when I see a head poking out of the elevator.

  The next time I look, Drake appears at the other end of the hallway, gun in hand. I widen my eyes at him and shake my head, mentally begging him to get back to fucking safety. The idiot just nods, and when the asshole pokes his head back out of the elevator, Drake fires, nailing him in the shoulder. The hit forces the man to drop his own gun and he slams back into the elevator with a yowl.

  By the time we both reach it, the doors are closed and it’s rising again.

  “What the fuck? You should be with Elle.”