Page 82 of Playing By Their Rules

I’d already felt full of Chance’s cock, but this is even more. Both of them inside of me together. With my arms held behind me, I feel like a little doll being used for their pleasure.

Ethan doesn’t move much at first. The pressure back there is strange, a little uncomfortable. I like it, but I also don’t.

“Sweet, dirty angel,” Ethan murmurs, his grip on my arms powerful, yet tender. “Letting Daddy use your ass. Mmm, and you wanted it, didn’t you?”

I did. I do.

He and Chance find a rhythm, with slow strokes that bring me up to the edge once more. Chance’s dark eyes glitter in the low lighting, piercing me, seeing every desire and reaction as he pumps into me, as he strums the tight, aching bud of my clit.

Behind me, Ethan swears and starts thrusting faster, deeper. The noise that issues from my throat sounds needy, inhuman.

“Don’t worry, baby girl, we’ll take good care of you,” Chance says.

Rocking, thrusting, touching, kissing. Our bodies move together. We’re slick with sweat, and the scents of sex fill the living room. The men pick up speed. I’m stuffed full and I’ve never felt so whole, so complete.

“Want you to come on Daddy’s cock,” Ethan says in a rough voice. “Do it soon, angel.”

“I—I’ll try—”

“No trying. You’ll do it.” He reaches around me with his free hand, the one not holding my arms back, and twists my nipple.

I shriek as the pain shoots directly to my pussy and mingles with the pleasure of their stroking heat. I shatter into a hundred million pieces, the orgasm burning, burning, burning. So much ecstasy, I can’t hold it all.

Ethan groans, pulsing in my ass as he comes. His grip on my breast is bruising, perfect.

Chance says, “Maisie, Maisie,” and gives three more rough thrusts before locking his hands on my hips and pumping out his own release.

Ethan lets go of my arms and I slump forward onto Chance’s chest.

They wreck me. They tear me apart.

And then they put me back together.

When Ethan stirs behind me, I say, “Don’t leave yet. Please? Stay with me.”

“All right, sweetheart,” Chance says, stroking my cheek.

They touch my skin, stroke my arms, remaining inside of me until they go limp, then slip out. The three of us are a mess—a perfect, filthy, beautiful mess.

“Let’s get cleaned up for bed,” Ethan says, rising to his knees and curling me into his chest. He picks me right up off the floor, stands, and carries to me to the bathroom. He exchanges a look with Chance, and Chance nods, veering to the bedroom instead of joining us.

“What was that about?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” Ethan whispers as he takes off his pants and gets into the shower with me. “Maisie, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I say, grinning at him even though my legs are shaking, my body exhausted.

After a minute, Chance steps into the spray with us. He’s holding something in his hands—a piece of jewelry. The white gold chain bears a single pendant. I squint against the water, trying to see it more clearly. The pendant looks like a lollipop.

“Is that—” I gasp. “What is that?”

“Ethan and I bought it for you,” Chance says. A flash of something—nervousness?—crosses his face. “We hope you’ll wear it. If you like it.”

“I love it,” I say, touching the little charm. The lollipop has engraved work for the details, and a tiny diamond in the center. “It’s the most beautiful necklace I’ve seen.”

“It’s a collar,” Ethan says in a grave tone. “It’s more than a necklace; it’s a sign of commitment.”

Now the nervous light in Chance’s dark eyes makes sense.

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