His hands remain locked on my hips when I try to rock against him, holding me in place with unrelenting control.
“No.” His voice is firm and commanding. “Just sit there and warm my cock while you watch.”
I whimper, the need to move almost overwhelming. Being filled so completely while remaining motionless is exquisite torture. Every breath, every slight shift, makes me more aware of how deep he is inside me, how perfectly he stretches me.
“Xavier, please?—”
“I said watch.” His grip tightens, fingers digging into my skin. “Enjoy the show, sweetheart.”
My attention is forced back to Cora’s alcove, where her moans have grown even more desperate. The man beneath her has his hands on her breasts, pinching her nipples as she bounces on his cock. The one behind her has increased his pace, driving into her ass with powerful thrusts that make her cry out around the third man’s length.
Watching them while Xavier’s cock pulses inside me, completely still but so deeply embedded I can barely breathe, creates a maddening combination of voyeuristic arousal and frustration. I’m trapped between satisfaction and need, forced to witness my friend’s complete surrender while experiencing my own.
My eyes drift from Cora’s alcove to another corner of the chamber, where movement catches my attention. The twins have Keira positioned between them. She straddles one twin while the other presses behind her, and somehow, they’ve both managed to fit themselves into her simultaneously. The stretch must be overwhelming.
Her flexibility allows her to accommodate them both, undulating between them like she’s performing intimate choreography. The sight is so erotic, so visually stunning, that heat pools low in my belly.
“Jesus,” I breathe, unable to look away from the twins’ movements.
Xavier follows my gaze, his chest rumbling withamusement against my back. “The Dexters always are creative.”
Keira’s moans rise above the ambient sounds of the chamber as both men thrust into her, their cocks rubbing against each other inside her stretched walls. The friction must be incredible for all three of them. Her hands grip the shoulders of the twin beneath her while she throws her head back in abandon.
My attention shifts again, drawn to another alcove where Landon has Sadie pressed against a marble pillar. Unlike the other displays of willing submission, Sadie’s body language suggests reluctance. Her hands push against Landon’s chest even as her hips tilt forward to meet his thrusts.
Landon’s fingers dig into her thighs as he holds her legs wrapped around his waist.
The sight of Landon taking what he wants despite her half-hearted resistance sends an unwelcome spike of arousal through me. A darkness inside me responds to watching him claim her. At best, with questionable consent—regardless of the NDA—as he uses her body’s physiological responses against her to take what he wants.
I don’t want to examine why that image makes me clench harder around Xavier’s motionless cock. I don’t want to explore the part of me that finds beauty in that struggle between mind and body.
My pussy reacts anyway, growing wetter despite my attempts to suppress the shameful response.
Xavier’s breath is hot against my ear as he observesmy reactions, his voice a dark rumble that vibrates against my back.
“You’re so fucking dirty, aren’t you?”
His words make me flush with shame, but I can’t deny the truth in them.
“Look at you getting wet watching Sadie fight against it.” His grip on my hips tightens, keeping me motionless on his cock. “You like seeing her struggle against her own desire. You like watching Landon break down her resistance.”
I want to protest, to deny his assessment, but the evidence of my arousal is irrefutable. I’m practically dripping around his shaft.
“It’s because you recognize yourself in her,” Xavier continues, his analysis cutting deep. “You know what it’s like to want something you shouldn’t. To have your body betray your conscience. That’s exactly what happened to you, isn’t it? You came here to expose me, but instead, you let me claim every hole.”
I hate that he can read me so easily, that he understands the twisted psychology behind my arousal.
“And over there,” Xavier directs my attention to another corner of the chamber, “we have an even more interesting dynamic.”
I follow his gaze to where Julian, Elliot, and the other hunters are positioned in an intricate tangle of limbs. The other hunter is on his hands and knees, his dark hair falling across his face as Elliot drives into him from behind. But Elliot isn’t in control—Julian has his cockburied deep in Elliot’s ass, creating a chain of dominance and submission.
The sight is breathtakingly erotic. Three beautiful men move together, their bodies gleaming with sweat in the ambient lighting. The man’s muscles flex as he braces himself against Elliot’s thrusts. At the same time, Elliot’s own movements are dictated by Julian’s powerful drives into his ass.
What captures my attention most is the possessiveness radiating from Julian. His hands grip Elliot’s hips like he owns them, his fingers digging into pale skin hard enough to leave bruises.
Julian’s brutal—every thrust is designed to drive Elliot deeper into Theo while simultaneously claiming him completely. The way he holds Elliot speaks of ownership.
“Julian doesn’t share well,” Xavier observes, amusement coloring his tone. “He’s making sure everyone in this room knows exactly who Elliot belongs to, even while he lets Elliot fuck Theo’s asshole.”
