Page 126 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim

He leans back, withdrawing his hand, leaving Brennan to continue. My body aches, begging for a climax, but they’re toying with me, keeping me on the precipice, their control absolute.

I put down my spoon, my hands trembling. “You have a chef?”

“We do.” Dorian licks his fingers with deliberate slowness,the sight nearly undoing me. “Although Brennan typically makes breakfast.”

I blink, trying to process the mundane detail through the haze of desire. My family had a housekeeper who helped with a few meals each week, but a dedicated chef? Honestly I hadn’t thought through the logistics of being in a relationship with these two men.

Grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, cleaning… All of that would be a lot to keep up with, especially since I’ll be teaching, researching, and supporting a spouse running for Senate. And Celeste and Everett both made it clear I’m a necessary part of this campaign.

Brennan’s fingers finally still, leaving me throbbing and unsatisfied.

I sigh, realizing I’m already surrendering to their world, their rhythm, their power. The absence of their touch is a punishment, a reminder of who holds the reins, and God help me, I crave more.

Once the table has been cleared, Dorian stands, his presence commanding. “I’ve waited long enough.”

You’ve waited long enough?

What about me?

It’s not like I’ve been stroking or sucking him off while he ate.

Since I don’t want him deciding that’s an excellent idea, I keep my mouth shut.

When he offers his hand, I accept.

Brennan’s eyes darken, and he follows, a silent predator at my side.

As we cross the deck, the breeze tugs at my hair and sunlight winks off the Gulf. A set of double doors glides open at our approach, revealing a corridor that’s all teak and hushed luxury. The soft click of our footsteps is the only sound as Dorian leads me toward a wide doorway at the end.

Once we’re in the primary cabin with the door closed and locked behind us, the air shifts, hanging thick with intent. The room is opulent: rich wood paneling: a king-size bed draped in gorgeous linens and floor-to-ceiling windows that offer an uninterrupted view of the water.

But it’s the restraints on the bedposts that make me slow blink. They’re black leather, stark and a little scary in the soft light.

My breath freezes as desire and nerves twist together.

Dorian stops behind me, his hands on my shoulders. Then he peels off my dress with slow precision. The silk pools at my feet, leaving me bare except for my collar and heels.

“You pleased us today.” He grazes my neck with his lips. “Now we’ll please you.”

Brennan moves in front, his fingers tracing the intricate vines. “But you’ll earn it, Isla.” His voice is rough, reverent, and I tremble under their dual gazes.

Dorian guides me to the bed and presses me down onto my back.

Methodically each man closes a cuff around my wrists. The leather is cool against my skin, making my mouth water. Nervously I tug, testing their hold.

Not a surprise, they’re secure. Unforgiving.

My chest rises and falls rapidly, part from fear, part from uncertainty.

Every time I think they’ve claimed me in every way possible, they find a way to bind us even deeper.

Next, they move to my legs and attach my ankles to cuffs.

I’m spread wide for them, unable to run or hide.

After they both roll condoms on, Brennan kneels between my legs to spread my thighs. “You’re so beautiful.” He flicks his tongue out, teasing, and I gasp, lifting my hips.

Dorian watches, his eyes burning, one hand stroking himself through his slacks. “You’ll beg him for release.”