Page 26 of Cruel Knots

A different sensation arises within me. My core throbs in response to their combined assaults.

Confusion flickers through. How can terror turn into such arousal? Is it my heat or a hidden kink I was unaware of until this moment?

My thighs press together, an action they all seem to notice.

The tallest, broadest of the men steps forward. His movement allows me a glimpse of his face before it gets devoured by the shadows again.

A soft cry escapes me. The man’s face is covered in thick, ugly scars running across his cheeks.

“Make her stand up,” he commands.

At once, the knife moves away. Two pairs of hands come to my aid, pulling me to my feet.

Their commander steps up to me while his subordinates hold me in a tight grip.

“Get rid of her clothes,” the scarred man commands through clenched teeth.

“Gladly,” the knife-wielding alpha responds, swiping his blade along my skirt.

A cold draft spreads around my thighs as more of my clothing falls away. My eyes stay glued to the face of a monster as he presses himself against me. His eyes gleam in the dark as he stares at me with a cold, unfeeling expression.

Who could’ve done this to him? I wonder as pure dread floods through me. He’s so grotesque, I can’t even look at him without flinching.

Hard fingers wrap around my chin, forcing my head up.

“My face is too ugly for you to even look at,” the man hisses, bringing his face close to mine. His breath is warm and smells of delectable dark chocolate. There’s a hint of bourbon there too that brings a nostalgic feeling within me but I can’t quite remember where I smelled such a similar fragrance. “I’ll be the one to break you first since I’m the one who disgusts you the most.”

Terror and desire flow through me, muddling my thoughts. I want his touch but I’m too terrified of him. I want to scream and break free but the cold blade never leaves my skin. The man before me scares me as much as the knife gliding along my body.

I try my hardest to swallow the hacking sobs escaping me. The knife rests against my pussy now, the cold blade gliding along the seam of my panties.

“She’s all yours, Damien,” says my kidnapper as he cuts through the thin fabric of my panties, leaving my pussy bare for them all to see. “Would you look at all the honey streaming down her thighs? Fuck! She needs us even though we scare her.”

Damien? The sound of that name breaks through the haze of lust and fear, shocking me. It can’t be him. Damien and his brothers would never treat me so cruelly.

I try to move away in a final attempt to save myself but my back scrapes against the wall behind me. The chains binding me clink together, reminding me there’s nowhere I can run to flee from these monstrous men.

Moving closer, the scarred alpha swipes a finger over the seam of my pussy. His warm skin is a stark contrast to the cold blade against my throat.

His companions hold me still as his fingers coax their way through my wet, slicked pussy lips.

“N-no,” I moan even though I’m loving the friction of his fingers against my tight channel.

“Your brother never stopped when I begged him,” says the knife-wielding alpha. “He kept slicing my brother’s face without remorse. There’s no pity left in the three of us, so save your breath, Princess.”

My breath hitches as Damien’s finger pushes deeper into my tight channel. His thumb finds my sensitive nub and circles over it, sending waves of heat through my body.

I should be terrified of him but my mind goes hazy with the sensations spreading across my body. Struggling, I try to focus on the information my kidnapper just gave me.

The three men before me are brothers.

Callum was the one who carved Damien’s face. Despite my revulsion, I look up at him and recognize my brother’s cruelty in the ugly scars that line his cheeks.

So, this is the reason I was stolen. Callum made enemies out of these men and they captured me to avenge themselves.

As if Callum hadn’t ruined my life enough already. He’s the reason I’ve been captured by these rogue alphas who’re hellbent on avenging themselves by hurting me.

Could the men before me be truly my lost friends?

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