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I moan—low and filthy—because fuck, I want it. I hate how much I want it. But I do. My whole body’s burning for it, every nerve ending wired for overload.

“You think you’re strong?” Rule continues, pressing one palm flat against my belly as he reaches around with the other to tug the rope just slightly between my legs again. “We’re going to break you in the best fucking way. And when we’re done, you won’twantto be strong. You’llbegto stay like that—on your knees, dripping with us.”

I feel my legs weaken.

My breath comes in shallow pulls now, the ache between my thighs sharp and relentless, my nipples tight between the rope as my body writhes against its bindings. I glance again toward Ruin, I can’t fucking help it. He’s still watching like I’m his religion, one hand pumping slow and steady, the other resting on the arm of the chair like he’s reigning in the monster inside him—for now.

But his voice breaks through the tension—low, dark, hungry.

“She’s going to look so fucking pretty with both our cocks shoved down her throat,” Ruin growls. “Her eyes all glassy, her spit dripping, taking it like the fierce little goddess she is—our perfect addiction.”

A sound escapes me—a choked-off needy whimper that tastes like heat and shame andyes.

Rule chuckles beside me, dark and delighted. “That’s the sound I wanted.”

He presses his fingers back against my pussy, slipping one inside just to feel how ready I already am.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “You’re already soaked for us. Needy little thing.”

He pulls back, running his hands down the ropes that bind me—like he’s checking his work. Like I’m a piece of art he’s about to defile.

And all I can think about—need—is to be wrecked so completely I forget how to say no.

Chapter 38

Seanna

Theropesholdme.

Not harshly. Not cruelly. But absolutely. Like their only purpose is to keep me upright so I don’t melt into the floor under the weight of everything Rule just promised to do to me.

And I want it. God help me, I want it all.

The space between my thighs throbs with need. The rope tight against my pussy presses in just right—relentless and teasing. Every breath makes it rub against my already slick folds, and I’m losing the war with my pride. Because even though I’m standing tall, even though I’m biting back whimpers and holding on to my fire, I know they see it.

They feel it.

Rule steps in front of me now, one gloved hand sliding along the length of the rope binding my chest. He stops when his fingers reach the valley between my breasts, brushing over the sensitive skin with maddening slowness.

“On your knees,” he says, his voice so cool and calm, a contrast to the rapid drum of my heart.

I hesitate. Not out of resistance. Not even out of pride.

Out of anticipation.

But then I drop.

The floor is hard and cold against my knees as they hit with a muted thud. The rope around my thighs pulls tight, controlling the width of my stance. There’s no modesty in this—I’m kneeling, bare, bound, open. And Ruin lets out a dark sound from the chair that makes my nipples pebble even harder.

Rule slides his thumb possessively over my cheek. His gloved fingers curling under my jaw, lifting my face toward him.

“Look at me,” he says.

He doesn’t need to raise his voice. The command slides down my spine like smoke. I lift my gaze, and he hums in pleasure at the sight—like seeing me there, bound and open, is the final piece of some puzzle only he understands.

Then he unzips his pants slowly, freeing his cock—thick, heavy, pierced. I’ve never had him in my mouth before, and the sight of him now makes heat punch low in my stomach.

“Open,” he orders.