Page 71 of Their Dark Rose

It’s then that I experience something close to relief. Regardless of our roleplay and the darkness of the night, they see me. They listen to the shift in my tone. They won’t torture me more than I’m able to take.

“We will?” Finn taunts as he slices my stockings from behind me, cutting my panties off with them.

“Tonight, we will.” The older of the three spins me to him.

“Unless she decides to be bad.” I recognize Falk by his husky voice before his fist locks around my nape. “Then it’s a free-for-all.”

He releases me, and I mourn the loss of his harsh grasp.

Until Mason takes over my entire world.

“Let’s see what she chooses.” Mason picks me off the ground easily, pushing my back against the trunk of the tree.

His mask and my face are at the same height. I smell Mason’s cologne, his skin. I can tell the fingers digging into my flesh are his.

But the mask…it creates such a barrier. Lines blur. My reality is distorted.

Some sort of dark magic transpires. What they promised me happens. The pain and hurt and painstaking guilt wash off me. Their violence rips it out of me.

I’m cleansed, wanted, and needed.

“Hold on to my shoulders.”

When I take too long, the masked man tilts his head. I don’t have to see his expression to know there’s danger lurking in his eyes.

I do as he says, pinning my ankles to his lower back.

His black, hollow eyes remain on mine, unbuttoning his jeans with one hand. He frees his cock, positioning the pierced head to my pussy.

The barbells on his cock graze my outer lips. I’m dripping and sore at the same time. He’ll have no problem sliding all the way into me. To hurt me.

“Fuck, I can come from the smell of your fear alone,” he mumbles. “Fucking intoxicating.”

“Beautiful pet, isn’t she?” The scent of leather alerts me to Finn standing at my right.

His hand covers my cheek, unmoving. Unlike his other hand.

He’s watching his brother, ready to fuck me. Jerking off to it at a slow, methodical pace.

“A pretty little plaything.” A hand circles around my throat, pressing me to the tree further. Cutting off some of my air. Falk’s.

“How do you want me?” Mason asks. His voice is sharp, bare of tenderness.

This should’ve been a warning. I still opened my mouth to answer. “Please, be ge—”

“Don’t really care.” He buries himself to the hilt in one push.

My scream sounds like a throaty groan because of Falk’s firm grip on my throat.

Mason burrows himself deep inside me, stretching my walls. Filling me so completely. The pain from being sore is heightened with the chafing sensation of his piercings.

Falk’s and Finn’s hands are on me, but their touch doesn’t register.

There’s only him.

A devil. A dark angel.

“It hurts,” I whine.

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