Page 49 of Yours to Break

Oliver finally let out a pleasure-filled moan from between us. “I feel weird,” he whimpered, nuzzling deeper into my pec.

“Are you going to come for us, sweetheart?” I asked, hoping he was, since I definitely wasn’t far off from my own orgasm.

“G-gonna,” he cried, mouthing at my nipple.

“Good boy. Come and milk our cocks. Squeeze the cum out of our balls, pet. You’ve earned it,” Hudson roughly crooned, his dick sliding against my own.

“Come, pet,” I demanded.

Oliver let out a long scream, his body shaking in its skin, as his release gushed out and his channel clamped down on our dicks.

“You squirted again, little one. So good—you did so well.” Hudson panted out praises against Oliver’s back as we all collapsed against one another.

“You were made for us, pet. Never forget that.”

* * *

It took Greyson and Lane another two or three hours to arrive at the house. In that time, we’d cleaned up, eaten some of the cookies Oliver had made, and gotten dressed. When we got the text from Grey that they were heading over, I waited in the basement with Oliver while Hudson went upstairs to welcome our guests.

“His eyes won’t stop following me, it’s creepy,” Oliver complained as he walked across the room.

“Well, heisalive and tied to a table. He also just watched us fuck a few hours ago, so…”

“Can’t we cover his face, though?” Oliver asked. Once he reached where I was sitting along the far wall, he naturally slid his body down to kneel at my feet. He nuzzled his face into my leg, puffing a short, worried sigh into it. The high I got from such blatant displays of his submission was far more than addictive—it was essential, necessary. When he’d first come to our home, he had layer upon layer of pride, shame, and fear that had to be peeled back to get to the point he was at now.

I let my hand rest on his head, smiling inwardly when I felt him gently push up into it.

“Your friend and my brother will be here soon, precious. Just don’t look at him,” I directed, stealing a glance over to the center of the room to see that, yes, Lane’s cousin was staring at us. Letting the man keep his eyeballs was a great test of my patience.

Oliver whined, “Can I at least warm you, Master?”

“No, pup,” I chuckled. “While I adore your mouth, I’m not letting our visitors see the blissed-out expression you make with a cock stretching your lips.”

The door into the room unlocked, beeping as it opened.

Oliver froze as Hudson, Lane, and Greyson entered. Lane clocked his bound abuser first, but quickly located and locked onto Oliver. Oliver trembled against me, confusing me a bit. Their friendship was strained at the moment, but I didn’t think anything had happened that would’ve resulted in Oliver fearing the redheaded boy. Greyson was a different story.

Lane bypassed his cousin, walking quickly towards us.

“Hey…” Lane offered.

I ran my hand through Oliver’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp to pull his attention back towards me. As he peeked up at me, nerves eating at him, I murmured, “Go ahead.” Oliver complied, rising shakily from the floor. He opened his arms wide, grunting when his friend limped forward and embraced him tightly.

The strength of Lane’s hug lifted Oliver’s feet off the floor, surprising me. Oliver was fucking tiny, but Lane wasn’t much bigger. Additionally, Lane had only just been discharged from the hospital; black, blue, and maroon splotches covered his fair skin. He had what looked to be a protective cast on one of his ankles and a busted lip. I guess he could’ve been on enough pain medicine to make it possible for him to lift Oliver, but nonetheless, it was impressive.

Oliver was returned to the ground within seconds, but stayed buried in his friend’s chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Oliver quavered, his voice barely audible.

Lane looked at him with love as he said, “I’m sorry too. I should’ve been more open with you. Can we go back to being best friends again?” Oliver’s face lit up, his pallor coming back. He nodded frantically and hugged Lane closer.

He whispered, “I would’ve contacted you sooner, I promise. It’s just that…” He snuck a glance at Hudson, who was now a few feet away from me, leaning against the wall. Oliver swallowed, continuing, “I’m supposed to get my phone back soon. We can text like normal. Oh, and we can hang out again like normal. Okay?” His brow creased as he nibbled nervously on his bottom lip.

Lane’s expression grew concerned as he sensed Oliver’s anxiety. Lane made eye contact with me from over Oliver’s shoulder. I smirked at the suspicion evident in his gaze. He frowned and mouthed to me, “Don’t. Hurt. Him.”

That was golden.

I held my tongue, although I wanted to tell him how much his innocent Oliver craved the pain we gave him. I wanted to tell him how his friend went as far as offering his blood—his life essence—to please us; how he was unequivocally ours. I didn’t care if Lane was Grey’s; he was still a potential threat.

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