Page 182 of Quinlan

“When we pull out”—Rome completes Liam’s sentence—“you’ll give us an answer. There’ll be no rewards for you until we decide we’re done. Only punishments for getting it wrong. Understood?”

Excitement and fear war for dominance inside me. I’ve seen, touched and had these three men in my body for less than a week. I would never be able to tell them apart.

They’re setting me up to fail.

I’ll enjoy their punishments. I dread them.

Or maybe…

I do know them. Beneath the insecurities and pain and everything else that’s poisoning my head, there’s them.

Each one of them has their own shape. Their grip on my hair is different. They’re unique.

They’re mine.

Maybe that’s exactly what they’re after. For me to forget about everything else and focus on nothing and no one but them.

They’ve been obsessed with me for years.

Over the short time I’ve been around the three of them, I’ve become just as obsessed.

That’s what they want me to remember.

“Quinlan,” Rome demands an answer.

“Understood.”

The room turns silent except for the erratic beat of my heart. Their breaths are muted.

When fingers hook under my chin, I realize I haven’t heard the man who walked up to me.

His fingers are smooth, his touch rough. He could be any one of the three.

The man’s other hand winds in my hair, and I’m forced to look up. Then two of his fingers are on my teeth, shoving my bottom lip down.

Whoever’s there makes a satisfied sound and I think… I think this is—

No time to think. My mind goes blank when this man’s cock is shoved past my lips, as deep as it’d go.

His groan has me clenching my thighs. The pleasure is intense, and I can’t do anything other than give in. My toes tingle. My breasts are swollen with need. My hands ball into fists at my back.

I moan around him. I open my mouth wider for him, consenting to his brutal thrusts. To his vicious grip on my hair. I gag and choke on him, gasping for air. I cry out each time he hits the back of my throat, when he uses me like I’m nothing to him. Carelessly. Ruthlessly.

Or maybe he treats me like a diamond. Like I won’t break.

I can’t think of a name. With this thick, smooth cock in my mouth, I only want more.

The wise thing to do would be to try to smell him. Flatten my tongue, run it over the ridges of his cock. Taste this man. Try to make sense of who he is.

I’m too far gone in the sensation to do any of that. I justfeel.

Too soon, he pulls me off his cock. Pats my head and leaves silently.

My mind is a mixture of pain and humiliation for being used as a hole to fuck. Even though it’s more than that. This is more than sex. This is about us, cementing our connection in a sick, depraved way.

In the best one possible.

“Well?” Rome’s impatient. Snappish. “What will it be, Quinlan?”

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