by Kitty Thomas
“Harder,” Soren says into the phone. “Fuck yourself on it like you mean it. Hold the phone down next to your cunt so I can hear those beautiful sloppy wet sounds.”
She must have done it because in the next moment Dayne says “Oh, fuck, yes.” Thankfully his phone is on mute, and the room is big enough that his words don't make it through the speaker of Soren's phone. Though I'm not sure Livia would even hear him if they could. From the small bit I'm getting, she's too lost in lust and mounting pleasure which has finally squeezed past her discomfort to hear anything but Soren's demands.
I wonder what she'd think if she knew she isn't truly alone with him. Maybe she suspects. After all, in what reality would two of your three future lovers agree to stay completely away while the third one gets nightly phone sex? She can't be that naïve. She may not realize we fuck each other, but she has to know we listen to her.
The phone is back to her ear again because he tells her what a good girl she is. And he's fucking me harder. Dayne strokes his own dick with more intensity, fisting it in his hand as though he's punishing it for a serious crime.
“Tell me how good it feels. That's going to be my cock very soon. You will take every inch of me and you will thank me for it,” Soren growls against her increasingly loud whimpers.
A moment later, he orders her, “Come.”
She screams, and I know it isn't an act. Soren fucks me with a harsh intensity that steals my breath and we both come almost simultaneously to the sweet sounds blaring over the phone. When I look up again, Dayne has come on the hardwood floor and is back to languidly stroking his dick as if nothing has happened. I think Dayne shouted when he came, and I wonder if Livia heard it, if she realized that wasn't Soren's growl of pleasure. I wonder if Soren muffled Dayne's voice with his own release.
Soren pulls out of me, and I collapse onto the floor, my breath still coming in hard pants as he soothes her and tells her what a good girl she is and what a good girl she will be for all of us.
He hasn't made her call him Master yet. It both surprises me and doesn't. After all, it's just another thing he can add to his wedding night plans, just another chain he can lock around her that we'll all get to witness.
“Don't touch yourself again until I call you tomorrow night. Do you understand, Livia?”
I don't hear her response, but it must have been yes because he disconnects the call.
“That was hot,” Dayne says. “I'm not sure I can wait four more months to fuck her.”
“You'll wait if I have to put your dick in a chastity cage,” Soren says. And he is dead fucking serious.
Dayne doesn't take his bait. He just calmly holds Soren's challenging glare.
“No oral either,” Soren says. “You too, Griffin. I need to know I can trust you two. I want our little bitch on edge until we all consummate this thing together. I want us to own her so completely she can't remember her own name. And that requires patience.”
“I already said I was in,” I say. And I am. Dayne and I are both getting fucked by Soren, and fucking and sucking each other. There's no immediate need to release inside Livia. For now, our physical needs are met, fortifying our patience to wait to fully and completely possess our shared toy.
20
Livia
The Wedding Night
The Present.
Soren holds my hand tightly in his as he leads me to the presidential suite as though I'm a prisoner who might get away or scream for help. I admit these aren't the craziest of ideas right now. A moment later, we're standing in front of the door.
He doesn't go for his key card immediately. He just stands there, taking me in, a small smile curving his features. It's not a kind smile, but it isn't an evil demented one either. I'm not sure quite how to class it. It does denote triumph, though. Like he won.
His eyes are every dark forest any fairy tale child has ever gotten lost in. They're deep green and completely impenetrable. Wild animals lurk inside them, watching me like prey. My heart flutters erratically in my chest as his hand raises to my cheek. I flinch like he's going to hit me.
But that's not Soren's style. I know it's not. He would never strike me in this way. If he's going to do it, it will be with a belt or a flogger or a cane, and I will come undone helplessly beneath him directly afterward, screaming out my pleasure. I know this because he's told me during our nightly calls many times. He's told me exactly what I'm in for with him and with Griffin and Dayne. And yet, I didn't put up much of a fight—at least not much beyond the good-girl protests of them sharing me.
He strokes my cheek. “You're trembling.” But he doesn't say it with concern, more like pride. Satisfaction. As though my terror of what may be about to unfold in this room is the absolute best thing about this day for him. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to my forehead, and somehow I know it's the last chaste moment we'll ever share between us.
“Welcome to your future, Mrs. Kingston.”
With this pronouncement, he swipes the key card he's smoothly produced from his jacket pocket, scoops me up, and carries me over the threshold. The tradition of carrying the bride over the threshold started because it used to be believed that evil spirits attached easily to the feet of brides and so to keep them from coming inside with the happy couple, it was just safest for the groom to pick her up and carry her.
I know this fun fact courtesy of Macy—the new and reigning queen of wedding history.
This avoid-the-evil-spirits trick is a wasted effort though because Griffin and Dayne are already waiting in our suite, removing their tuxedo jackets and ties, raw hunger in their gazes.
“Boys, I have our new toy,” Soren announces, before the door has even shut completely. Griffin's normally lighter blue eyes seem nearly as dark and fathomless as Soren's. And Dayne's warm brown are now dark pits. They are each a forest for me to lose my way in, and I don't know which one of them is hiding the bread crumbs that will get me back home safe.
Soren sets me down on my feet but pulls me immediately back to him. His lips are at my ear as he speaks low to me, so softly I'm not sure if the other two can hear. “Go stand over there, face the wall, and put your hands on it, palms flat against it on either side of your face.”
“O-okay,” I say shakily. I'm used to orders over the phone, but it's an entirely different thing in person.
He shakes his head at me. “No. When we're together in private about to do something sexual, you will call me Master and Griffin and Dayne you will call Sir.”
My face heats at this, but my mind can only scream finally. I let out a long, shuddering breath, and in some ways it feels like the first moment of peace and relief I've had since Capri Bella. I have longed to offer him a title. Maybe deep down I always knew it would be Master and not Sir. Soren is too big, too all-encompassing to be Sir.
It's been so long since I've had sex I'm not sure I remember how to even do it the regular way. But while my body has been chaste, outside of toys my mind has been a nightly kinky whorehouse—and not all of it due to Soren's calls.
“O-okay, Master.” A flood of wet heat blooms between my legs when this word comes out of my mouth. A tear slips down my cheek but there's no pity in his eyes. He takes a step toward me and pulls me close, his hand gripping the back of my neck. I hold my breath, thinking he'll kiss me in that aggressively passionate way he did at the altar in front of all those people, the way that made me blush as though I really were a virgin—worrying what our scandalized guests thought of that display, what they thought it might mean about what would happen between us tonight and every night going forward.
But Soren doesn't kiss me. Instead he leans in and licks the tear off my cheek. “Go,” he whispers against my face as he releases me. I stumble back, but turn and go to the wall as he told me, avoiding Griffin and Dayne's gazes. I'm still having a hard time processing the fact that this night is finally here, no more excuses. No more delays. We are doing this thing.
It's my wedding night, and I'm not e
ven wearing makeup. Macy brought an entire kit of professional quality makeup, naturally assuming she'd be painting my face today, but I'd told her no. Soren doesn't like it.
She'd been aghast, saying surely he wouldn't mind for just one day, it's my wedding day. But I refused. I told her only lip gloss which I let her swipe across my lips. It was a bit like giving an addict just a tiny bump of cocaine. It was just enough to light the fire and cause a thirty minute tirade about how this was crazy and I should wear makeup on my wedding day... after all what about the photos? But I held strong and eventually she gave up the fight.
I'm grateful I don't really need makeup and wasn't in the habit of wearing it anyway. So I didn't feel self conscious without it, particularly going down the aisle with the veil covering my face. And the photos can be retouched if necessary.
As I move to the wall to obey his orders, I realize his dislike of makeup is because of moments like what just happened. He doesn't want there to be any barriers between my skin and his tongue, nothing that tastes of foundation and mascara. Just me, clean and ready for him at all times. A shiver runs through me at this thought.
Griffin strokes my breasts through my wedding gown as Soren painstakingly releases each tiny button from its looped cage.
At the same time I hear a zipper and pants hit the floor, and then Soren is groaning, “Fuck yes, just like that.”
My eyes go wide as they meet Griffin's, as I understand exactly what's happening. I can't look behind me to see, but I know Dayne is stroking Soren's cock. And now all at once everything clicks into place.
It never occurred to me that they had something going on with each other. I'd wondered all this time how they could possibly be keeping their lust in check. I'd worried, what if they were fucking some other girl—or more than one? It never occurred to me they were fucking each other, biding their time, waiting for me to join them.
Soren isn't making sacrifices to share me with two other men. No, he's getting three mouths on his cock, three bodies to penetrate and mark and claim with his release. And yet, even so, he doesn't own them. They all own me. Like a pet.
They may be his lovers, and he may be in charge, but in some way, they are equals. They are brothers with secrets and history. I'm dessert. I'm their shared toy.
Soren finally reaches the last button on my gown, and he and Griffin together help me out of it. Then I'm standing face-to-face with Dayne.
“I drew the winning straw,” he says. His gaze is intense on mine, with promise, with intent. With triumph.
At first I don't understand what he means but then it hits me. He's the one who gets to fuck me first. I look to Soren, but he doesn't react to this. He doesn't seem jealous or like he'll fight Dayne on it. A part of me is relieved Dayne is first, I'm not sure if I could take Soren first. Soren is so large, and even with all the toys to prepare me, I'm afraid he'll hurt me with his size.
Another tear slides down my cheek, and Dayne wipes it away. “Shhhh, sweet. I've got you. It's going to be okay.” He exchanges a look with Soren; I turn in time to see Soren nod. Dayne takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom, shutting the doors behind him.
“Dayne?” I question.
A stern look falls over his face, and that power he has that is so quiet suddenly becomes very loud. “I believe Soren told you how to address us.”
“S-sir,” I say, hurriedly.
He nods. “Come here.”
I'm shaking and afraid I'll fall into trembling sobbing fits. I'm so overwhelmed, and I don't know what's about to happen. It's been so long, and now being faced with three men who all have expectations, being bound to all of these men, I don't know what I'm doing or how I even got here. But I go to him because what else can I do?
When I reach him, he pulls me into his arms and holds me, stroking the back of my head, his fingers moving gently through my hair. “Shhh. We're going to take good care of you.”
He just holds me like this for several minutes, then guides me quietly over to the bed. He turns me facing the tall ornate Mahogany bed post.
“Hold onto it.”
I grip the post, while he stands behind me unfastening the hooks on my corset. He helps me out of the last scraps of fabric that covered me then directs me to lie down on the bed. He's still fully dressed. Instead of joining, he sits in a plush dark blue armchair across the room, watching me.
It unnerves me to feel his gaze on me like this. It makes me feel more exposed even than my nudity. And while the room may be cast in soft light, it's plenty light enough for him to see every line and curve of my body, every imperfection. And still, he just takes me in, as if he has all night to make this assessment.
Finally he speaks. “Livia, do you understand what will be expected of you going forward?”
I shake my head, “No, Sir.” Because despite Soren's dirty talk on the phone, I really don't. I don't know how much of that was talk, and how much will actually happen or what other things may happen. I don't even know how tonight is supposed to go. I don't know how to be with all of them. And I'm afraid of having to take them all at once.
He sighs, but his eyes never leave mine. “You will obey our every command. You will cry for us, beg for us, come for us. You will be sweet and pliant and take all of us into every orifice on demand. You will deny us nothing. Any kink, any request, you will happily comply.”
My body screams yes to all of this, even as my mind is still unsure and anxious.
“And if I don't?”
“Soren has been very clear about this in his nightly calls. You'll be punished. And Soren really enjoys punishment.”
I'm crying softly again because his words are terrifying, especially with the solemn way he delivers them. He isn't kidding. None of them are kidding. When Soren first said I belonged to them, I didn't realize he meant it so literally, or that everyone was equally on board with these terms.
These men are every fantasy I've ever had, offering to act out every fantasy I've ever had. But it's one thing to touch yourself privately to your own dark thoughts; it's another to actually do those things. And it's still something else to be in the situation I find myself in.
He doesn't acknowledge my tears. Instead he says, “I've heard you over the phone, Livia. I know this is inside you. If I didn't think it was inside you, if I didn't think you needed this, I wouldn't be here.”
“What about Soren and Griffin?”
“I don't know about Griffin, but I know Soren would have taken you on any terms. And he will keep you under any conditions and at any cost. There's no negotiating with Soren so don't even bother.”
I allow this to sink in, even though I've never doubted for one moment Soren's ruthless nature. But Dayne isn't finished yet.
“And it isn't just the phone calls. The night of the proposal I tested you. When I shoved you against the wall and called you a cock tease you didn't cry or panic. I felt how wet you were, the way you pressed against me, your body begging for more. The others tested you, too. Even though he wasn't bluffing, Soren's threat was its own test. You were afraid but you didn't try to run. You were more aroused than you were scared. You just needed permission to do this forbidden thing with us. You needed permission to be selfish, wanton, slutty, obedient, and submissive. Livia, let me be clear, you have all of our full permission to be all of those things. And you will be all of those things, or there will be consequences.”
My breath hitches as he rises slowly from the chair and begins to unbutton his shirt.
“We're going to go very easy on you your first time with us. Nothing crazy or extreme. But don't get used to it. Things will change—especially on the honeymoon. You need to be prepared for that.”
Dayne is absolute pure masculine beauty. He is a god—the kind of man all women fantasize about but few dare to dream they can truly have in real life. And here he is, prowling toward me like a jungle cat.
He finishes undressing. “I want you on your hands and knees. I'm going to take you from behind.”
> My womb clenches at this statement.
I obey his quiet command, and I somehow know he wants me from behind because he doesn't want to see the tears on my face and feel like a monster, even though I do want him. I want all of them.
I'm just scared because all of this is far too big for me.
I feel the bed dip behind me, and then he's gently stroking my back and my ass. He continues these soothing caresses until my body relaxes. I gasp when his hands move around to fondle my breasts, and then fingers are inside me.
“God, you are so tight,” he says.
He flips me over onto my back and before I know what's happened, his head is between my legs, his tongue flicking over my clit as his fingers move in and out of me, stretching me, easing me farther open so I can take them. I move with him, chasing the pleasure his mouth and hands are building within me.
Ragged animal sounds begin to flow out of me, sounds I know Soren and Griffin can hear in the next room. I wonder if the two of them are fucking in there, or if they're jerking off or simply waiting for their turn to take me.
When I'm close, he flips me back onto my hands and knees, and a moment later he's inside me. I let out a moan at the intense pleasure-pain feel of his first hard thrust.
He grips my hips as he drives relentlessly into my body, my climax racing headlong into me until I come apart beneath him as he rides me harder still. A moment later his orgasm joins mine, and then he pushes me down until I'm flat on my belly and he's lying on top of me, still inside me.
“You are such a good girl,” he whispers in my ear, and that praise creates another flutter of pleasure low in my gut.
He pulls out of me, and a moment later, Griffin and Soren are in the room with us. Griffin helps me stand. I'm so wiped out from the pleasure with Dayne that I don't have the presence of mind to feel self-conscious about my nudity. Soren offers me a bottle of water and I sit on the edge of the bed and drink, trying to collect myself.
