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He withdraws and slaps his heavy cock against my tongue again, almost like he’s making sure I’m paying attention.

My eyes are on his face as he speaks. “You are the queen of our lives.Myfucking queen. Your husband is the Don of the Antoniou syndicate. But it’syouwho ruleshim.”

His words send conflicting emotions rushing through me. Pride. Fear. Confusion. Lust.

When he pushes forward again, he holds himself there, cutting off my airflow. I try to suck in a breath through my nose, but he simply pushes in more until the tip of his cock touches the back of my throat and I gag.

“Fuck, I love that sound,” he says, pulling back then pushing forward again. “I love fucking your throat and making you gag around my cock. I miss seeing you let yourself go, seeing you forget everything but pleasure.”

Because I’d been in survival mode for so long.

Not anymore.

Last night was the first time in four fucking years I’ve felt carefree. I’d been able to dance and drink and laugh until my sides hurt with my lifelong best friend and my new friend because I knew I was safe, protected, knew my men would never allow anyone close enough to hurt me.

And then I’d let my husbands…

My inner walls clench around nothing as need rages inside me at the memory, at the feeling of Brix’s piercings grazing my tongue.

He’s right. It’s time to remember who I am. Take back my life. Let loose with my husbands because I know if I fall, they’ll be right there to catch me.

Raising my hands, I rest one on Brix’s muscular thigh and use the other to cup his sac, fondling his balls.

His deep, guttural sound of pleasure has me clenching my thighs while his cock fully blocking off my airway makes me a little dizzy.

I’m not scared. A little oxygen starved, but not scared. Brix knows how to push me right to the edge before pulling back.

After a few more heartbeats, just when spots begin to form in my vision, he pulls back and allows me to gasp a deep breath of air.

“Open your knees. Touch yourself and show me. I want to see how wet you are.”

Isn’t this cheating a little? I mean, I’m still under the spray. No matter what condition my pussy is in, my fingers will come away wet.

Doesn’t matter. I obey instantly, spreading my thighs wide and running my fingers through my folds before dipping one inside and then presenting it to him.

He hums a pleased sound before wrapping a hand around my throat and pulling me to stand.

I’d never had a problem with my guys manhandling me. The only reason it pissed me off when Kato continuously squeezed my throat was because he was cutting off my explanation, keeping me from warning him or telling him the truth about our time apart.

Brix’s big, tatted hands grip my thighs and lift me with ease, positioning his cock to impale me as he slams my back against the tile.

He groans a deep sound in the back of his throat as his nostrils flare, and only gives me a moment to adjust to the intrusion before he’s pumping up into me, each punch of his hips hard and fast.

This shouldn’t feel so good. I’m still sore, but it’s as though that pinch of lingering pain is simply spurring on my need.

Seconds. That’s how long I last before I fall apart around him, my pussy clenching as I throw my head back against the wall and cry out.

“That’s right. Come all over my dick like my good little whore.”

He’s right. That word doesn’t hold the same weight, especially not from his lips, not anymore.

I refuse to allow it to make me feel ashamed of surviving.

Because I am their whore.

I’m all theirs to do with as they please.

Chapter 33