Page 32 of Come to Head

A soft mewl left vibrated out of her, and she stirred against him, furrowing back into him even further. He had discarded her clothes before this even started and the soft skin of her back was a stark contrast to his chest as she rubbed against him.

That fuckingMumu.

She had nearly pavloved him, now every time he even saw a fuckingsleep dresshe couldn’t help but to picture her in it. His dick immediately stood at attention.

“Maddox,” she murmured in her sleep.

Did she say his name to goad him? Surely she knew who he was. She should recognize him by his fingers alone.

He shifted his hold on her.

He had lost his very finite patience. He maneuvered, flipping her onto her knees in the bed, not concerned if she woke up or not.

“Wha–” She wasn’t able to get the full word out.

He plunged his cock into her primed cunt. He had readied it forhimself. Not for her. She didn’t need to enjoy this.

But even as he thought the words, one of his hands found her clit, and the one soaked from her?

He carefully pressed against her rim of muscle. He had taken her virgin ass for his and he needed to remind her. That she was his. That everything about her washis.

Even if he was forced to make space for two other men.

“Oliver.” His name was smothered by the pillow her face was pressed into, but he heard it.

“That’s better.” Maybe he would make her come after all. He sped up his pace, beating into her with reckless abandon. “You”–he pinched her clit–“will call me by my fucking name when I fuck you. Do you understand?” He wasn’t sure when the monster had escaped his cage.

But here in this bedroom. With the moon cutting through the window as the only source of light. His beautiful Isobel filled with his cock, his fingers playing with her, she wasn’t being fucked by the man she called a friend. She was being imprinted by the shadows that coated his soul, and only once his darkness had chewed her and swallowed her down would she be his.

Her moans had turned to screams, and he listened for her safe word. Because even a monster knew not to break her trust, knew to adhere to her wishes.

If only just.

“Oliver! I knew it was—” The words cut off by an incomprehensible noise leaving her lips.

It washedonistic. It was his signal that she was almost there. He considered removing himself entirely, to punish her, but he didn’t have the self-control for that.

Instead, he slowed his pace changing to deep thrusts. It tookfivebefore she convulsed around his cock.

His own pleasure was just within his reach, static licked against his spine all the way to his fucking balls. And the pressure that had built against the dam? Her vice grip around him? Her broken voice as she cried out his name? It was his undoing and a moment later; he was filling her.

She tried to squirm off of him, but he held onto her, leaning over her back. “Oh sweet Isobel, I tried to let you free. Tried to keep you out of my web, but you’re stuck in it now. Are you scared?” Hiscleanhand caressed her cheek from behind before moving to her neck. He gripped her there, pulling her up to him by it.

“No.” The word washed a sense of relief across his skin.

Anxiety that he hadn’t been aware existed dispersed into the room. Her one word unfurled years of doubts, of questioning whether she was ready for him—the true him—or not. “Good, now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chapter 19

Izzy

This was a two-shower kind of day. Waking up with the soreness between my legs, my hair still damp, and stuffed between Maddox and Oliver had been mildly shocking.

But not nearly as surprising as the night had been. I knew it was Oliver by his voice, his touch, his hands.

Except.

My hands reached back, turning the water to a cool spray across my skin. It was helping to wake me up.

---