by Sienna Blake
* * *
“I’m ready, Your Majesty.” That afternoon I lean against the doorframe and place my hand on my bare hip. I’m wearing just a white bikini, strappy sandals and a smile.
Grayson is seated behind the living room table, his laptop open and he’s cursing at the screen. He doesn’t even glance my way.
Uh-oh.
“What’s wrong?” I walk up behind him and slide my arms around his neck, pressing kisses along his neck. Damn, he always smells so good.
“I leave the country for one friggin’ second…” Grayson slaps his laptop down and turns to face me, pulling me between his legs. There’s a crease between his brows, his telltale worried look. He spots my state of near-nakedness and instantly brightens up, letting out a whistle. “The national emergency can wait while I take the time to appreciate this…national treasure.”
I giggle, but it’s quickly replaced with concern. “What’s happened?”
Grayson buries his face in my chest and lets out a hum. “I just want to stay here…” he mumbles, his breath tickling my skin, making my nipples harden.
I push him back and say his name softly.
He sighs. “It’s fine. Or at least it will be. I hope. But it means you’ll have to head out to the beach on your own this afternoon, is that okay?”
“Of course.” I force a smile to my face to hide my disappointment as images of us finally getting naked in the sea together vanish from today’s agenda. It’s something I’ve wanted to do since the first deserted island he’d taken me to.
It’s not his fault that the country is breaking down without him there. He can’t exactly take time off being the crown prince. It’s one of the challenges that comes with dating royalty.
Grayson gives me a long kiss, turning my blood to fire before pulling away. “I’ll make up for it, I promise.”
I sigh. “I know you will.”
There’s always tomorrow. Right?
* * *
I’m in a total state of bliss when I return from an afternoon of lying out on the glorious deserted beach and reading. I watched the sunset alone, wishing Grayson was beside me, before heading back. I’m so relaxed that I don’t register that the front door to our villa is ajar. Big mistake.
I step inside to find the living room empty. No Grayson sitting at the table where I left him.
“Grayson?” I call.
No answer.
I step in farther, my eyes scanning the tabletops for a note. Grayson would have left me a note if he had to leave, right? Wouldn’t I have noticed the boat leaving? No, the dock is on the other side of the island from where I’d been all afternoon. And he wouldn’t have left without telling me.
I call his name again. Maybe he just went for a walk?
I move in farther and see the chair that Grayson was sitting on is overturned. I spot the cushions flung off the couch.
Someone’s been here.
Oh God.
They took Grayson.
Against my command my heartbeat becomes a swollen throbbing against my rib bones, and I swear I can smell the acrid scent of my own fear.
Suddenly my past swells up inside me. The public already know my childhood, about my drifter criminal mother, about the time I did. We left a wake of angry men. We expected when I started dating Grayson that some might try to take advantage of that fact. But so far, not yet. Was this one of them come to seek revenge? Payday now that I’m dating a prince? Or has this something to do with the emergency Grayson was talking about earlier?
Shit. Where are Nicolai and Chase when you need them? This is why Grayson has bodyguards. Dammit, why did we leave without them? Where’s my cell phone? I need to call Nicolai.
It takes me a panicked moment to remember that I left it in the bedroom. Why didn’t I take it with me to the beach? Maybe Grayson tried to ring me?
I run into the master suite. There it is on the bedside dresser. I reach for it and hear the creak of the door closing behind me. I feel the presence at my back and the hairs across my neck stand on end. I fucked up. I didn’t think they’d still be here. I didn’t check behind the door. Stupid, woman.
Before I can move, before I can even inhale so I can scream, a hand goes around my throat.
“Don’t move.”
Sophia
Panic closes its icy fingers around my voicebox. A scream is building up inside me but it sticks to the top of my lungs.
“What do we have here?” a deep, gravelly voice growls into my ear. I can feel his hot breath on my neck. My brain is spinning so much that the actual voice barely registers.
My assailant presses right up against me from behind. I can feel him. He’s wide and at least half a foot taller than me. I can feel his hard muscles pressing into the softness of my back, his thick, strong hand curled firmly around my throat. It’d almost be erotic if I wasn’t so scared out of my fucking mind.
“What do you want?” I ask, swallowing against his large, warm palm. “Where’s Grayson?”
He chuckles in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “He’s…close. Don’t you worry.”
Close. He’s alive? Please tell me he’s alive.
I want to ask what he wants. What he’s going to do to me. To us. Part of me wants to know so I can prepare myself for whatever is coming. But then the other part…
My mind short-circuits as my assailant begins to trace my bare side with his other hand. I freeze like a deer caught in headlights.
“So curvy… So soft…” he murmurs into my ear. His voice…I swear, it’s familiar.
I curse myself for wearing nothing over my bikini. I’m almost naked. So vulnerable. I mentally prepare myself for the worst. He brushes his hand across my breast and I’m horrified when my nipple hardens against my will. I swallow down a whimper.
“His Highness has always had excellent taste,” my assailant says. “Hasn’t he?”
For a second I wonder why he’s asking me. But when a different voice responds with a “He has” from the other corner of the room, I realise we are not alone.
There’s a second assailant.
I spot him standing like a giant statue in a dim corner. He’s dressed in a black t-shirt tucked into black belted pants, showing off a thick torso and strong legs. I can’t make out his face because it’s covered in a balaclava. I can only see latte-coloured skin on the backs of his hands, which are folded in front of him.
My heart sinks. Any hope of biding my time and getting free has sunk with two of them. I’m fucked.
My bare skin rises to goosebumps as the first assailant moves his hand across to the inside of my thigh and trails up until he slips his hand between my legs. I hear a groan slip from the second man. He’s just standing there…watching, his gaze like needles pricking my skin. Lust weaves through the fear coursing in my veins, and I let out something between a whimper and a moan. What the hell is wrong with me?
The man holding me laughs, and the warmth underlying it hits me deep in my guts. That laugh…
Grayson?
“I think you like what I’m doing to you, don’t you, pet?” he says.
He’s stroking his fingers along my pussy through the bikini material. To my horror, I feel myself growing wet.
“I said, don’t you?” His fingers squeeze around my throat until I see stars.
I nod my head and squeeze my eyes shut. His fingers loosen just enough for the headrush to clear, leaving behind a sensation that feels like I’m standing too close to a live wire. My body is reacting as if I want this, even though my brain is screaming at me to run.
He doesn’t stop his assault, running his fingers in a smooth stroke along my seam, then running teasing fingers along the edge of my bikini. He lets go of my neck long enough to yank aside my bikini top so my breasts fall out, hanging heavy from this need that feels so wrong yet so damn right. His hand goes back around my throat, his thick, rough forearm nestling right between my breasts, anchoring me against him.
“Jesus,” a third
voice curses. “I’d love to get my hands on those tits.”
Three.
There’s three of them.
“Then do it. She obviously wants it,” the man holding me says.
The third man appears in front of me. Just as tall as the one holding me, wide shoulders, dressed in the same black uniform as the second man. It’s like they’re a team. It’s like this was planned. Blonde hair curls out of the black balaclava covering his face. And deep-blue eyes that I swear look like…
Chase?
My breath hitches in my throat. The blonde grins at me as he grabs my breasts gently at first, then harder. I can’t stop him even if I wanted to, I’m anchored hard to the man behind me, the leader. The blonde dips his head and sucks hard at one nipple. Pain and pleasure, lust and fear shoot through my body, making my head spin.
“Please, stop,” I beg. Even as a needy moan tumbles from my lips.
“You sure that’s what you want?” The leader’s face comes down into the crook of my neck and I hear him inhale deeply, then he lets out a low feral growl, his erection growing against the small of my back. His face is rough against my neck but it’s not from stubble. He must be wearing a balaclava, too.
His finger slides under my bikini bottoms, finding my clit, rolling the pad of his finger around it in tight little circles. Just how I like it. I moan as my pussy floods with wetness, which he collects and rubs all along my slit. There’s no denying what my body wants.
“You are hogging her,” the second voice says, and I recognise the hint of eastern Europe in his accent.
I hear movement and my eyes snap open to find the second figure standing next to the blonde, all three towering over me. I feel hemmed in. Confined. And yet…my eyes lock onto the deep, dark eyes of the latte-skinned one. There’s something dangerous in those eyes. He’s not someone to be fucked with. His hand replaces the one around my throat before he leans in for a firm kiss.
That kiss. Firm yet demanding with a hint of violence…
Nicolai?
A wave of relief mixes with the adrenaline in my body. It’s a game. A sexy fucking game of stranger danger; a fantasy of mine that I admitted to Grayson one slightly tipsy night. And I want to play.
The man behind me slides two fingers into my aching cunt and curls them around to press at my g-spot, invading my body even as my pussy walls clench around him in welcome. He begins to rub at that sensitive spot inside me, the pleasure building, despite how wrong this is. I can’t help but rock my hips up to meet his fingers.
This body is ready to give these intruders whatever they want…me. This body is ready to be stripped, spread and fucked.
But first I’m going to come around his fingers. With one nipple in the blonde’s mouth and my tongue in the throat of the dark-eyed one. I cry out as pleasure rockets through me.
As my orgasm falls away the energy leaves my limbs. But I don’t fall. I find myself being held up by three sets of hands.
These three men are going to do whatever they want to me.
And God help me, I’m going to let them.
The dark-eyed one lets out a low growl. “I need to get inside her.”
“Get her on the bed,” the leader says. “Ass up.”
I’m carried by three pairs of hands, too weak to fight, and I’m positioned in place on all fours, my ass in the air, the leader and the blonde on either side of me pinning me down by my forearms and calves. Hands yank down my bikini bottoms and I’m totally exposed. Heat blooms in my cheeks. I whimper and grow wetter still.
The blonde chuckles. “She’s impatient. Don’t make her wait.”
The hush of clothing being removed and the clink of a belt from behind me sends a shiver across my skin. My bikini top, still knotted around my breasts, feels like rope. And with the sensation of being held down by four hands, it’s almost all too much.
“Please…don’t,” I beg.
Rough hands grab my ass, kneading, fingers dipping inside me to test my neediness. The dark-eyed one lets out a curse right before he replaces his fingers at my entrance with his cock.
Without warning he slams right in, the feeling of being stretched overcoming me. I would have fallen forward from the strength of his thrust. Except for the hands gripping me.
Holding me.
Controlling me.
Owning me.
The dark-eyed one is relentless, his thrusts hard and fast, his fingers gripping my hips, a litany of foreign words spitting from his mouth. I feel another orgasm building as he reaches his climax, too.
I come again, hard, moaning like a whore and gripping the sheets, almost tearing them. I hear his grunts, feel the warmth as he spends himself inside me. My pussy throbs as he pulls out. I let out a whimper. It’s all I can do.
“My turn,” the blonde says, eagerness in his voice over the sound of his clothes being removed.
I’m lifted in tandem and the blonde slides under me before I’m lowered back to the mattress so that I’m straddling his hips. He still has his balaclava on but the rest of him is naked. He’s all golden-brown skin, a perfect six-pack and firm chest dusted with blonde curls.
The leader slides behind me and holds me upright with his arms like a cage, his hands undoing my bikini top and throwing it aside before kneading my breasts. He’s the only one still clothed, I can feel his hard body through the material. The blonde positions his cock at my entrance.
No, not again. I can’t so soon.
But I can’t mouth these words. I don’t have the strength. All I can do is moan as the leader lowers me onto his friend’s cock. I prepare myself for a second ruthless pounding, but the blonde seems to sense that’s not what I need. At least, not right now. He lifts his hips up in slow languid thrusts as the leader holds me in place.
I spot the dark-eyed one watching us from a chair in the corner, still naked, still with his mask on. I couldn’t see his body when he was behind me but I can now. He’s huge, built like a tank, wide torso, broad shoulders and thick, bulging muscles. His hand is stroking his cock, already semi-hard again.
Oh God. Is he going to want a round two when the other two are done? Will they all want a round two? Round…three?
This thought fills me equally with horror and a raw aching need.
The blonde’s thrusts grow harder, faster, pleasure coiling my insides. The leader kneads my breasts and pinches my nipples in his fingers. All the while he whispers dirty things in my ear as I moan. “Dirty little pet. Look at you taking that second cock. You’re just gagging for it, aren’t you?”
He reaches down to play with my swollen clit. That’s when it happens.
Orgasm number three.
Holy fuck. I thrash in his arms as electricity crackles through me, inside me and across my skin. I try to pull away because his fingers still rubbing my clit, still milking every last drop of pleasure from me is almost too sensitive. He won’t let me go. Not until the blonde has finished. He’s close now. His thrusts growing wild and reckless.
“Oh yeah. Fuck yeah.” The blonde’s lips curl into a snarl as he comes hard, his six-pack and chest tensing underneath me.
The leader’s arms slide out from around me and I collapse onto the blonde’s sweaty heaving chest. I don’t get to rest for long. Hands circle my ankles and I’m rolled to my back on the mattress.
The leader stands there at the foot of the bed. I can see him for the first time. He’s dressed not in black, but in a simple white t-shirt and cream pants. Like the other two, he’s masked, tendrils of dark hair peeking from the edges, the most beautiful blue eyes rimmed in black staring back at me. My heart flips in my chest before banging at my ribs.
He begins to strip, slowly, signaling that it’s now finally his turn. My nerves coil and a shiver runs through me. I have no fight left in me. No energy to run. These three men have taken it all from me. Taken me.
My mouth grows dry as the leader’s body is revealed. He’s gorgeous, the most beautiful body of the three. Not as thick as the dar
k-eyed one, not as lean as the blonde, just perfect, his cock thick, hard and perfect.
“Hold her down,” he commands.
I feel hands circling both of my upper arms, pinning me to the bed. The hungry stares of the two men on either side of me burn into my skin. But I can’t take my eyes off the leader. He is glorious. Powerful. Regal.
“Please,” I whimper. “Enough.”
He climbs over me, pushing aside my thighs with his knees before settling in between my legs, pulling one of my thighs up in his large hand. “I say when you’ve had enough.”
There’s a moment of stillness as I lose myself in his sea-blue eyes. Then he slides into me, my pussy so wet there is no resistance. I let out a moan, my chest tightening, the feel of him so familiar.
He takes his time, moving his palm across my hip, up my stomach, between my breasts and finally wraps it around my throat. His touch is firm but the tenderness behind it is unmistakable. So is the emotion sparkling behind his eyes.
As he fucks me, his eyes don’t leave mine. With each thrust, the feeling that consumes me isn’t just physical. He overcomes my heart, my mind and my soul. I have been possessed. Taken. Owned.
The pressure builds again and my body starts to shake from the waves of pleasure, from exhaustion.
“Come for me, pet,” he says. “Like a good little whore.”
“I can’t,” I say with a moan.
They’ve already ripped three orgasms from me. I don’t have any more left.
He lifts my other thigh so he can go deeper. I let out a half-moan, half-sob as the pressure builds. It’s too much. I shake my head. I can’t.
The hand against my throat tightens and I see stars. At the same time his fingers slide down between us to rub at my clit. “You can and you will.”
His fingers and his voice, so powerful and commanding, tips me over the edge. My vision goes white. One more orgasm rips through me, the most intense, body-shattering one yet. My body jerks, bucking against the hands holding me down. I hear a scream and know it’s coming from me. Underneath I hear a roar and I know it’s coming from him.
