Page 106 of House Rules

“Come,” Storm commands. “Come on Atticus’s tongue. Give it to him—he’s earned it.”

And I do.

My back arches off the table, my mouth opens in a silent scream. Con’s hands are still on my breasts. Storm is still gripping my throat. Maverick grabs my hips and holds me down as the orgasm rips through me—ruthless, overwhelming, perfect. Atticus doesn’t let up, tongue and fingers driving me into a second wave as my body trembles, ruined and reverent beneath them.

“Fuck,” Storm whispers, his mouth pressed to my ear. “That was beautiful, angel.”

Then he asks: “Are you ready for the hard part of your punishment?”

32

Con

I have never seenanything as beautiful as the way Phoenix fights to prove her worth.

She shouldn’t be the one forced to prove anything—she’s already shown, over and over, how strong she is.

We’re the ones who aren’t worthy. Not her.

When she’s given permission to come, it’s instant and intense. Her muscles strain with the effort to be good. It’s intoxicating—the way her thigh muscles flex, the way even her flat stomach works to hold off until she releases it all in a wave of glory.

Jealousy hits me hard—at Atticus, as he laps up every drop of her pleasure, and evenat Storm, who’s whispering psychotic nothings into her ear, ramping everything in her head higher and higher.

“How do we want to do this?” Maverick asks, looking at me.

“You three take her,” I say. “And if you can’t break her, then I will. I want her at her limit before she’s mine.”

I can’t sort through the mess of emotions warring inside me, but I know this is how it has to go. I want her to myself—more than that, I want her to be one of us. If sharing her is the way to prove she belongs, then I’ll prove once and for all why I’m the leader of the Titans.

Not that we’ve ever discussed leadership. There’s never been a vote, no decree, no title. People just assume I’m the leader because I take the lead—and I’ll do that here, too.

I grab a dining chair, shove it through the mess Maverick made when he cleared the table, and place it a few feet away. I want a front-row seat. It might be cheating, but I want to see exactly how they work her, what she responds to, and what she doesn’t.

I may be confident in my ability to lead, but I’m not about to underestimate my brothers.

“I already called her ass,” Maverick says.

Storm and Atticus both roll their eyes.

“Then take it,” Storm says. “You can fuck her ass. Atticus can get his soul sucked out through his dick, and I’m going to feel her come apart on my cock over and over and over.”

“Perfect,” Atticus says, helping Phoenix sit up. He scoops her into his arms, and she clutches at him, tear-stained cheeks flushed, lips swollen and bruised, her expression anything but sad.

She looks blissed out. I wonder if she’ll have that same look if Atticus puts her in subspace—or maybe that’s exactly where she is now.

Maverick strips and plants his bare ass on the table, stroking his cock—something I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing. That table’s going to have to go. Hell, it might need to be burned. There’s no way I’m eating off it after Maverick’s planted himself there.

Atticus maneuvers Phoenix, and for a moment I want to take her from him and do it myself, but Istay seated, my hands gripping the wooden armrests.

He walks her over to Maverick, who removes the plug while kissing her spine. I’m not sure she even notices until I hear her soft whimper.

“Ready to take my cock here, little firebird?” Maverick teases, rubbing lube on her and then on himself.

She must agree, because Atticus lowers her down until she’s fully impaled on Maverick. His hands go to her breasts, his lips to her neck, giving her a moment to adjust.

Her teeth sink into her lush bottom lip, and my cock’s never been so fucking hard.

Storm strips next, moving in front of her. He takes her mouth in a brutal kiss, one hand reaching between her thighs to stroke her clit.