by Lana Grayson
I shrugged. “Gotta make it hard on you.”
“Believe me, Sarah. I’m plenty hard.”
Max’s voice lowered. “You’ve got orders from Nicholas, baby. No sense playing games.”
A strange thrill tickled over me. Nick left me to his brothers and expected them to do all manner of twisted and sensual things. He knew they’d fuck me, and he encouraged them to tease and fill.
Nicholas swore conceiving would save my life, no matter the man who did it. I expected him to bleed with jealousy, but he hadn’t. If anything, he took me harder, faster, more intensely than before.
Did Nicholas like sharing?
I shivered. A new warmth built in me, without the bite of the flogger or Reed’s skilled touch.
Did I like being shared too?
I did. Oh, what did that make me? I was the luckiest woman trapped in the unluckiest of circumstances. Each of my step-brothers offered me something vastly different. Reed’s attention was all for me. Max’s dominances awoke a dark and mysterious urge inside me. And Nicholas completed me, his every touch a hope that we could end the captivity.
Reed’s palm wove over my thigh, encouraging my knees to spread. He moved between my legs, lowering his lips to the hollow of my neck. I shuddered. Reed noticed. He winked at his brother.
“Doubt you need the leash,” Reed said.
Max wasn’t convinced. He waited at my side, letting Reed take control. They both forced me down against the table. I tried to close my legs, but Max slapped my thigh. My panties peeked, too white and innocent for the eager gazes of the men determined to taste, mount, and conquer me.
“The leash is half the fun,” Max said.
“You sure?” Reed’s finger brushed the tempting white of my panties. He teased the right spot, flicking across the sensitive area twice more. “I have her attention without slapping her around.”
“It’s not about the slapping.” Max curled his hand over my neck and squeezed. “It’s the control. Nick hates getting rough, but I had hopes for you.”
“Maybe I don’t need to be rough.”
“Don’t you want to dominate her?”
That shiver again. I knew Reed’s answer before he did. He whispered the truth in a thousand hushed desires and revealed his intentions only once we tangled together in an embrace that suffocated us in passion. My sweet and gentle Reed longed to claim me as badly as Nicholas.
But it tortured him to think of me that way—helpless and bound and completely at his mercy.
I shuddered. Nicholas was demanding enough. He’d never strike me to earn my obedience, just as he no longer bothered binding me to the bed with restraints. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use them. If given the chance, my step-brothers would all tie me down for their enjoyment.
Nicholas loved me. Reed worshiped me. And Max?
“You’re a bad influence on him,” I said.
Max loomed. The shadows in the room followed. “Think I’m corrupting my little brother?”
Reed rubbed his finger over the softness hidden beneath the panties. My voice trembled with the delicious shiver. He grinned.
“I think your little brother knows what he’s doing,” I whispered.
“I think he’s curious to see what you can handle.” Max tightened his grip on my neck. “And what he can do.”
Uh-oh.
It had been days since my stepbrothers last frightened me. I allied with them, but the trust was slow to grow, earned more within their arms than how they protected me with my clothes on. Max liked crumbling my defenses, but no Bennett deserved the delight in rattling me.
“Shouldn’t you let Reed decide what he wants?” I asked.
The dimple returned, every bit as dangerous as the flogger in Max’s pocket. My brothers didn’t answer. I arched an eyebrow.
“Shouldn’t I decide how to be taken?”
It was rare for Max to laugh. He pushed Reed aside and flipped me over, pressing my tummy into the table. The dress rose high over my hips. Max twisted his fingers in my panties.
I didn’t dare move.
I didn’t push him away.
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to release me.
“Nick’s been feeding you fairy tales, baby,” Max warned. “There’s no friendship in our bedrooms. You are ours to take now, and you should thank us for every fucking thrust.” He ripped my panties down. His caress wasn’t as soft as Reed’s. It never would be, and I couldn’t imagine a moment spent with Max that wouldn’t be fraught with violence and lust. “Remember. We’re doing this to save your life.”
“You enjoy it,” I said.
Max didn’t need to touch me to prove it. “So do you.”
“Then why not offer me a choice? Afraid I wouldn’t give in?”
Max’s hands roamed. He traced over my slit. I met Reed’s gaze as Max’s fingers slipped within my tightness. Reed grinned.
“You’ll never just give in, baby. You’ll always fight us. And I know why.”
I couldn’t speak, not as his touch ground against my slickness and revealed just how much I enjoyed his torment.
“You think we’ll actually succeed,” Max said. “You think we’ll put a little Bennett baby in that tummy and steal away all your precious land and fortune.”
I laughed. Their fantasy hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“Maybe. But you know you’ll fail. No baby. No company.” I arched. “I doubt you want it anymore.”
“Oh?”
I met Reed’s stare. “Why get me pregnant when you could just fuck me all day, every day? This way, you can molest me without consequence.”
Max snickered. “It’s not molesting if you’re pushing back, baby.”
Reed’s breathing roughened into a pant. I sunk my teeth into my pouting bottom lip. Max kicked my legs out wide as he leaned close. He spoke to Reed though the threat clenched everything inside me in a sudden heat.
“She won’t break if you get a little rough,” Max said.
His hand tangled in my hair to arch me to him. The bite of pain was nothing compared to what he could do with a flogger, but he hadn’t indulged in that part of his deviancy.
Yet.
No way was I getting out of this unscathed.
“Sarah knows how to submit, don’t you, baby?”
I accidentally rocked against the hardness in his trousers. “You’d think.”
“Need some proof?”
Yes. About eight and a half inches of it. His fingers weren’t enough, and neither were the layers of material separating us. Max wove me so easily into his will, but I flushed as I realized just how much of my secrets I revealed to Reed.
Then again, Reed brushed a hand over my parted lips. I timidly kissed the pad of his thumb, and his smirk rewarded me while challenging his brother.
“Go ahead. Let’s see how she submits for you.” His finger sunk into my mouth. I nibbled before wrapping my lips over the offering in a leisurely suckle. “Then I’ll show you the right way.”
“You think you know better than me, little brother?”
“Only one way to find out.”
This wasn’t a game I’d win, and yet I couldn’t wait to play.
I didn’t struggle or fight when Max’s belt jingled. It might have dropped to the floor or struck over my bottom, and either possibility would have delighted me. Reed’s murmur urged me to suck his finger harder, faster. I imagined I savored something other than his finger.
Only one thing was missing.
One person.
Nicholas gave me to his brothers, but, afterwards? We didn’t sleep—we pawed and groped, fucked and groaned until we passed out against the twisted blankets. Nicholas’s jealousy drove him between my legs every time I whispered how deeply I had been filled.
God. How would he react if he learned Max and Reed made a game out of my submission?
It wouldn’t enrage him. Just the opposite.
I’d drown in desire before the day was over, and Nicholas would revive
me only to plunge me within our passion once more.
Max’s fingers tickled over my slit.
I would explode right there, right then, just from the mere thought of my step-brothers fighting over my slit, arguing over who would take me first, trading me from hardened cock to cock as I was fucked and used and mounted like an animal in heat.
And maybe I was.
I’d trade my rest for another touch, forsake safety for another kiss, and deny my own freedom for their gifted pleasure.
It wasn’t submission, it was madness, and I trapped myself in the asylum with my three chosen torturers.
I tensed as Max leaned close, his words distracting me from the hardness grinding against my thighs.
“Be a good girl for me now, baby.” His hands roamed, but not where I hoped he’d touch. Not my slickened folds. Not my desperate slit that welcomed him, needed him. “Show Reed how I make you—”
His finger drifted too far, too fast, too much.
The nightmare struck.
I shrieked as even the gentlest rub of that area assaulted me with memory.
My stomach heaved.
I couldn’t deal with an invasion to that tender place, not yet, not so soon after Darius attempted to hurt me there. The panic overwhelmed me. I bit Reed’s finger and lunged backward, flailing and kicking to escape from Darius’s grip.
Max’s grip.
Was it Max? I didn’t know. The flashes of pain and memory blinded me.
Oh, God.
He couldn’t touch me there.
Anywhere but there.
Tears blurred my vision. My foot connected with something hard, and Max roared. I earned my freedom in a shout and bolted from the table, tripping over a chair and collapsing against the dining room wall.
Just how I crawled when I escaped Darius.
Helpless and fighting to escape.
Degraded. Dehumanized.
Terrified.
Max swore. His leg gave out, and he nearly collapsed, his grip white against the table’s edge. Reed rushed to help. Max only batted him away with a swipe that looked more like a sucker-punch.
I meant to apologize. I meant to help. But every word I might have uttered lodged in my throat.
Darius emerged from the archway of the dining room.
I ground myself against the wall, ripping my dress low over my exposed slit. My stomach turned as Darius grinned.
He watched me fight Max and crawl away in panic as though his son tried to attack me.
And it made him proud of his boy.
Reed hid his bitten, bleeding finger. “Didn’t know you were home, Dad.”
Max was unable to stand. I had no idea how hard I kicked him, but he had yet to unclench his jaw or look at me.
Darius nodded. “I came home early to speak with Sarah.”
My stomach dropped. Max grunted.
“She’s busy.”
“Oh, by all means.” Darius grinned as I tucked the dress tighter over the places he never deserved to see again. “Please finish. Send her to my office once you’ve…done your part.”
My step-brothers didn’t answer, but I nearly screamed as he left me to their mercy.
Son of a bitch.
The memories and horrors emerged from my nightmares—a new form of torture. Darius didn’t even have to attack me to destroy my courage. My chest ached. I coughed. Groaned.
I was not losing another breath on Darius Bennett.
“You okay?” Reed offered his hand.
He’d touch me.
No.
I pushed him away before he helped. I pretended that it was pride and not fear of being touched by a Bennett that drove me to my feet.
Christ. Darius hadn’t even raped me, but I still sickened with damp sweat and the crawling, shuddering itch of grimy hands and chapped lips.
Max swore and rose, wincing as he rested his weight against the table.
I didn’t know what to say or how to say it or if I needed to say anything. I flushed and hated the heat on my cheeks. “Max, you touched…it made me remember...”
He wasn’t mad. Why wasn’t he mad?
“I get it. Wasn’t thinking, baby.”
“No.” I didn’t want him to get it. That only made it worse. I edged further from Reed. “I…it’s fine. Goddamn it. Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t... Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” Reed spoke too softly. “It’s okay. We understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Sarah, you’re allowed to be upset.”
No. I wasn’t about to let myself panic over what Darius tried to do. It was done. It was over. He was a monster, and he could do nothing more to terrify me. Nothing.
If I got upset, he’d win. I wasn’t giving him that much power.
Reed called my name until I met his gaze. I hated the sympathy in the charmed green of his eyes.
“Don’t try to be brave. He almost raped you, Sarah.”
“Yeah, well, so did you!” I snarled, but the words ripped through my chest, as though the truth punctured my lungs.
My step-brothers silenced. It was the wrong thing to say. I didn’t mean it, and yet I did.
Fuck. Everything was wrong. Ruined.
And it was Darius’s fault.
“I won’t let him get in my head,” I said.
Reed didn’t give up. “Sarah, he hurt you.”
“So? I’m not going to live my life afraid of where the bad man touched me.” I brushed the hair from my face. “He won’t control me. I refuse to fear Darius Bennett.”
Saying it didn’t make it true.
Only one way to get my closure. I unceremoniously dressed and faced my step-brothers.
“I’m going to meet with him.”
Max laughed. “The fuck you are. We’re calling Nick. I have no idea what Dad plans to do with you.”
“And I don’t care. This ends now.”
Reed took my wrist as I turned to stalk after Darius. “You’re not going in there alone. Not after what happened last time.”
“He won’t try it again.”
“How can you be sure?”
The thought sickened me. “Because he already taught the lesson.”
Max’s expression darkened. “He’s not in it for the lessons, baby. He wants to hear you scream.”
“I live to disappoint him.”
“Fuck.” Max hobbled after me and pointed at Reed. “Call Nick. Get him home before she gets hurt. I don’t feel like killing Dad today.”
Now there was a possibility.
A bloody, horrible, deliciously appealing possibility.
Before his tortures, I never considered ending a life. But some people didn’t deserve the chances they had or the souls they damned.
“I’m going alone.” I didn’t wait for Max to limp after me. “I’m owed an apology.”
Too many fears nauseated me. Too many unspoken threats stuck in my throat. I suffered too many nightmares and offered myself to his sons in too many ways just to pretend I was safe.
But no safety existed in the Bennett Estate. Nothing they did was right, and yet, I still surrendered to the lesser Bennett evils if only to prevent Darius’s cruelty.
Or did I submit to my step-brothers because I enjoyed it?
Christ, I didn’t know anymore, and only blood would offer clarity. Spilled or betrayed, it didn’t matter. Darius intended to hurt me, and so I’d make my very existence a reason for him to hate waking each morning.
I’d ruin Darius Bennett before he ruined me even if I had to offer my body again and again to the men who wanted nothing more than to claim me and reap the benefits for their own wealth.
Money didn’t matter.
Family didn’t matter.
But I’d endure every torture of hell if it meant I could watch Darius suffer through the same horrors he inflicted on me. Nick didn’t have a majority for the takeover? That was fine. I’d crush his father for him.
And they’d all be lucky if they recogni
zed the Bennett Empire when I was done.
Hate thickened into venom in my veins. I stormed the corridor to Darius’s office, the same hall where I once fled from the raging beast only to trap myself within Max’s punishments.
Then, I feared what pain he’d inflict.
But in my irrational, frantic anger, I denied every beat of my heart punishing me with fear.
It ended now.
I kicked the office door open.
And my rage bled into shock.
Darius welcomed me from behind his desk. He clicked his tongue and sent the fluffy golden hairball scampering in my direction. His words trapped me between pounded heartbeats.
“I brought you a present from home, my dear.”
I crumbled to the ground as the goldendoodle slammed into my chest. He yipped around me, licking my face, hands, and plopping onto his side to demand belly rubs.
“Hamlet?” I stared at Darius. “Why do you have my dog?”
A dozen horrible, heart-breaking tortures scoured my mind. I searched his curly coat, but Hamlet didn’t look injured. Or worried. Or anything but a couple pounds heavier and spoiled with a fresh grooming. He wiggled, kicking his hind legs in desperation for my scratches.
“My little girl shouldn’t be without her puppy.”
Tears replaced the rage. “You’ll hurt him.”
“Nonsense.” Darius dismissed the accusation with a frown. He offered me the chair opposite his desk, but I learned his tricks from the last time. I stood, holding Hamlet’s collar to keep him close to my legs. “I rather like dogs, as do your brothers. Hamlet is perfectly safe. I promise.”
“Like I’d ever take your word.”
He pretended he hadn’t heard the bitterness in my voice. “My first wife was allergic to dogs. We didn’t know about hypoallergenic breeds then. You are fortunate to have a pet with your asthma.”
Hamlet was one of my greatest loves in the world, and he never once judged me for a single attack, even when I hid my wheezing in my bedroom and hugged him to avoid worrying Dad.
Aggravating Dad.
This was wrong.
All of this.
I expected Darius Bennett to attack me, hurt me, rape me. Instead he delivered my dog and even throw him a damn milk-bone from the bag he kept in his desk.
What was he doing? The hair on my neck prickled. I prepared to run.
