Page 181 of Quinlan

A shiver stops my next inhale, lodging it in my throat.

Humiliating. It’s going to be so humiliating.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Damien starts, his voice coming from my front, but lower, like he’s on his knees. His punishing grip on my chin is the first thing I feel. He tips my head up, yanks my bottom lip down. The second is the head of his cock tapping on my mouth. He’s damp. He wants me. “We’re done talking. Won’t say anything other than confirm or deny if you got it right.”

“Got w-what right?” I’m having trouble talking, my words garbled with his dick on my lips.

“Which cock…” Another set of lips is at my ear. Liam’s next to me, his scar brushing against my skin, his hand is on my throat, catching my gasp. “Is fucking your pretty little mouth.”

My ass stings as soon as he’s done explaining the rules. A belt has connected to my flesh. Over and over, again.

Rome.

Why, stop,andoh, God, are my senseless pleas that he doesn’t seem to hear. He doesn’t relent. Doesn’t stop.

There’s no telling how many times his belt has cracked on my ass. I’ve lost count after five. He could’ve reached a hundred or two. The pain isthatagonizing.

That humiliating. I’m hot all over. My nipples are peaked. My tongue darts out, searching for more of Damien. I cry out when I don’t find him there. I need one of them to be inside of me.

The belt drops on the carpet with a mutedthud. Rome kicks my legs apart, making it harder to stay upright. And I’m bare. My arousal at what he’s done—at what they’re doing—to me, is there for him to see.

“Mmm.” He drops to the floor. One of his hands grabs a fistful of my ass, opening me further to him. With the fingers of his free hand, he swipes at my inner thigh. “Soaked. You like the pain, don’t you, sweetheart?”

I’m lightheaded. Out of it. Rome has beaten the sass out of me. It’s taken him—what? ten strokes? Twenty?—to turn me into a puddle. I’m all want. All need.

“Yes.” The desire for them hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. “When you’re the ones hurting me.”

“Not that much that you’ll cheat, I hope,” Damien’s half-asking, half-threatening me. His hand is in my hair, raising me to my knees.

“Cheat?”

He’s holding me upright, and I know I won’t fall. I know he won’t let me go. Still, my instincts have my hands lurching forward to grab his thighs for balance.

Damien’s chuckle is dark. I’m not afraid, it’s just my body responding to the danger he poses. I cower back, though I can’t get far.

Liam’s hand is a vise around my throat. Rome acts as a barricade behind me. His hands are on my hips, stilling me in place.

“The belt strokes are your punishment, little flame.” Liam’s hand slides up and down my throat. That, too, is a threat. “Every wrong answer will land you ten of these. That’s how much we love you. How much we own you. For fucking ever.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Quinlan

“I’ll call next time.”The walls are closing in around me. I’m in so much pain. Picturing more of their belt strokes is intolerable. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I already can’t stand it. Can’t stand how much I want it. “I’ll call. I’ll call when I’m sad. When I’m happy. When it hurts so much, I can’t breathe.”

Hurt me, please. Own me.

“Oh, I forgot.” Damien bats my hands away from him, walks back. He’s leaving me to Rome and Liam’s mercy. “She said some things before you two got here.” He’s cold, talking over my head. His twisted version of love. “Quinlan here believes we’ll kick her out after we’re done with our revenge plan. We told her we loved her, but…”

“Got to make sure you remember that part, too. Ingrain it in your head,” Rome growls. “We’ll take care of your little problem, sweetheart.”

My whimper goes unnoticed. He and Liam leave me, getting up as I stumble forward.

“Up on your knees, darling.” Damien’s voice comes from somewhere behind me. I do as he says on wobbly legs. “Hands behind your back. Clasped. That’s it. That’s a good girl.”

“We’ll each take turns fucking your mouth,” Liam says, and I hear what lies beneath his indifference. He wants me. He’s barely holding on.

How could I ever think otherwise?

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