I cry out. It’s too much, he’s too big, it’s too foreign a feeling even after his fingers. It feels like my lower half is on fire, and my confused nerves don’t know if they like it or not.
Alaric braces his hands on either side of my ribs, holding perfectly still. His expression is a thousand times more tormented than it was earlier. “Fuck.”
Ursa’s low laugh makes my toes curl despite the nearly overwhelming urge to cry. She gives my clit a slow circle. “Don’t embarrass yourself by coming on the first stroke, lover.”
“You’re not helping,” he grinds out.
Her smile is warm and mean, all at the same time. “Am I making it difficult on you? Does she clench around your cock every time I do this?” She circles my clit again. Indeed, my entire body tightens in response.
“Ursa.”
He’s saying her name while he’s inside me.
Ursa’s voice goes harder than I’ve heard it. “Fuck her. You know it’s what you want to do, selfish boy. Chase your pleasure at her expense. Now.”
I barely have time to register the command before Alaric obeys. He pulls almost all the way out of me and shoves deep, drawing a cry from my lips. It’s too much, but Ursa keeps stroking my clit and my body is already beginning to accommodate him. It still burns, but pleasure begins to drown out the pain almost immediately. Maybe because of all the earlier orgasms.
He drives into me hard enough that my body starts to move up the mattress. Ursa’s grip on my throat tightens, and Alaric grabs my hips, holding me in place. They consume me. Her hands. His cock. The way they look at each other while he’s fucking me. I should hate it, should resent it, should feel anything but another orgasm building in my core.
Each time he drives into me, each time she circles my clit, each time their hands hold me forcibly in place, I get closer to another, more powerful, orgasm.
“Stop holding back,” Ursa commands.
For a moment, I think she’s talking to me, but then Alaric picks up his pace. He wedges his hands beneath my ass and lifts my hips off the mattress, yanking me onto his cock as he shoves forward. I swear I can feel him in the back of my throat. Once. Twice. A third time.
A high keening noise erupts from my lips and then I’m coming so hard, I think I black out. I vaguely register Alaric’s strokes losing their smoothness and him cursing as he drives into me one last time.
Stillness descends.
I’m achingly aware of his cock still inside me, of the breath filling my lungs, of Ursa’s grip on my throat. Alaric finally pulls out of me and moves off the bed, walking quickly into the bathroom. I stare at the ceiling. Should I say something? I don’t have words right now. The reality of this situation is soaking into me one wave at a time.
I sold my virginity tonight.
Alaric tricked me into doing it.
Ursa orchestrated the entire thing.
I belong to her—to them—for another six nights.
She releases my throat, and I start to sit up. She touches my chest. “Not yet.” She disappears into the bathroom and comes back a few seconds later with a washcloth. I wince as she presses it between my thighs. She’s back to the kind version of herself, the warm smile that shields the cruelty. “You did well.”
“I lay there and took it.” I swallow hard. “You commanded he fuck me selfishly.”
“Mmm. I did.” She finishes wiping me up and urges me to sit. “If I were more merciful, I’d give you tomorrow to recover, but every one of these days belongs to me, and as such I’m going to use them to their full capacity.”
I look up at her and shiver. I want to reject what she’s saying, to be able to truthfully say that I want nothing of what she’s offering me. I hate her for being part of this, for witnessing my humiliation. What kind of person is foolish enough to walk into the trap and then refuse to walk back out again? What kind of person craves their betrayers’ touch?
Apparently the kind of person I am.
Chapter 12
Alaric
I barely get three steps back into the room when Ursa cuts through my plans for the rest of the night with a few short words. “Take Zurielle to the spare bedroom and get her situated.”
“The spare bedroom?” I stop short. “Why is she going there?”
“Because I want her to.”
I start to argue, but there’s no point. Ursa has given a command and I won’t change her mind, not when we’re apparently playing out a particular scene in her head. It was fun fucking Zuri. Really fun. But I want to be on my knees in front of Ursa on my first night free of the Underworld. More, the thought of wading through emotional conversations with Zuri sounds about as fun as throwing myself headfirst into a wood chipper.
Arguing won’t work, but maybe another tactic will.
“Ursa. Mistress.” I give her my best charming smile. “I thought I’d keep you company tonight.” I thought we’d talk, too. Maybe not tonight, but soon.
She rises slowly from the bed. Normal people would look awkward doing the same motions, but with Ursa it’s pure grace and deadly power. She smooths down her dress. “Alaric, you can go sleep in the spare bedroom with Zurielle, or you can go outside and sleep on the balcony like a disobedient pup. It’s your choice, lover.”
I clench my jaw even as part of me responds to the sweet poison of her words. Everything about this woman draws me in: her beauty, her power, her deceptively sweet meanness. Even now, the threat makes my body go tight.
But that desire will only last about five minutes in the cold night.
I finally nod. “I’ll take her now, Mistress.”
“Good boy. I knew you’d see things my way.” She crosses to me and presses a light kiss to my lips. “Start with aftercare. You may do anything she consents to—except fuck her pussy with your cock. Do you understand?”
I frown down at her. I don’t understand this. We were supposed to be the endgame, and now she’s essentially giving me to Zuri. Or giving Zuri to me, depending on how one looks at this. Either way, the equation doesn’t include Ursa, which is the one component I crave above all others.
I like Zuri. I do. But she’s so sweet, I feel like I’ll bruise her with a harsh word. She has her entire heart pinned to her chest, just ready to give it to the first person who offers her a tiny bit of kindness, fake or not. Being around her makes me feel guilty, and I fucking hate it.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I grind out.
Ursa doesn’t move, a deadly stillness stealing over her. “If you harm her, it will displease me.” If Zuri has a problem with us talking about her like she isn’t there, she doesn’t say a word from her spot on the bed. Ursa reaches up and gives my chin a light flick. “Go.” No negotiation. No bargaining. A simple command with the illusion of a choice.
There’s no point in arguing further. She’s not bluffing about making me sleep outside, which might amuse me in different circumstances. Not tonight. Not with everything riding so close to the surface.
I turn to Zuri. “Let’s go.”
She gives Ursa a wounded look but climbs off the bed on clearly shaking legs. I’m moving before I make a decision to do so, closing the distance between us and scooping her into my arms. If she takes a nose dive, it’ll just be more work for me to scrape her off the ground. Or that’s what I tell myself as I walk out of Ursa’s room and down the hall to the spare bedroom that’s been mine the few nights I’ve been able to slip my leash long enough to stay over.