*Isabella's POV*
And then Damien was walking toward me, and fuck. The hunger in his eyes, it was a different brand than Jacob's. Darker. It both fucking terrified me and made me wet all over again. He pulled out a condom from his sweatpants, before yanking them down along with his boxers, revealing a cock that was a fucking carbon copy of the one that was inside me moments ago. Jesus Christ, this kind of twin identicalness should be a goddamn crime.
He opened the packet with his teeth, his gaze never once leaving my body, and I felt pinned, completely exposed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, then quickly pulled me so I was straddling his lap, facing him. My hands came to rest on his shoulders, 'cause I had no fucking clue where else to put them.
He leaned into my neck, taking a deep breath, like he was committing my scent to memory. I could feel his fucking dick twitch against my ass as he planted a gentle, almost mocking kiss on my neck before whispering, "Sorry, Princess."
He said it, but there was nothing fucking apologetic about his tone or the half-smirk on his face. Liar.
Before I could even fucking comprehend what he meant by that, he claimed my lips in his own, his kiss hungry and fucking possessive as his tongue just dominated my mouth, claiming every inch of it.
He pulled away, just enough, his eyes burning into mine, dark and intense. He lifted my hips, just slightly, and fuck, the feeling of being suspended there, hovering over the thick, hard length of his dick, was its own special kind of torture. I was empty, aching, waiting.
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his voice a low, husky warning that sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm not as gentle as he is, Princess."
And then the realization hit me like a fucking freight train. That's what he was sorry for. The apology was a goddamn promise.
He lowered me, and it wasn't a slow, gentle descent. He fucking dropped me, slamming his cock deep inside my pussy in one brutal, punishing thrust. A sharp, flash of pain tore through me, but it melted instantly into an, overwhelming wave of pleasure that made me cry out, a loud, broken shriek I couldn't hold back.
My fingers dug into his back, my nails scraping against his skin, looking for any kind of anchor as his thrusts came faster, deeper, unforgiving. Whimpers were torn from my throat with every punishing drive of his hips. I felt his hand tighten on my hip, like a fucking vise-grip that was almost painful, while his other hand moved to my breast, twisting my nipple in a sharp, punishing jolt before moving to the other, alternating between them, keeping me in a constant state of pained, pleasured shock.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide, trying to muffle the sobs that were building in my chest as he pounded into me, hitting my G-spot over and over and over again with devastating accuracy.
"Damien," I whimpered, his name a broken, pathetic sound against his skin.
He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Look at me," he growled, his voice a raw command. "You can take it, alright?" he added, and I could only manage a frantic, desperate nod.
With that, he claimed my lips again, swallowing my cries as he pounded into me, driving me closer to the edge at a maddeningly, terrifyingly quick pace. And just like his brother, he seemed to fucking sense it, pulling his mouth away to whisper in my ear, "Cum for me, baby."
It wasn't a request but rather a command. And as if he was predicting my own fucking undoing, as I went over the edge. An orgasm, violent and shattering, ripped through me, making me cry out, a completely unhinged sound of pure, overwhelming release.
He groaned my name, his body shuddering as he came inside the condom moments later. Then, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against his chest, his heart hammering against mine. When he finally pulled back, his thumb gently wiped a tear from under my eye—a tear I didn't even fucking know had escaped. He planted a soft, startlingly gentle kiss on my forehead before he pulled out, tossed the condom, and carefully, almost delicately, put me back on the bed.
"You can't possibly get any louder," Jacob's voice cut through the haze from the chair. I heard him slowly stand up. " A pause, and I could hear the smirk in his voice". But then again, I'm hard again anyway, so... maybe you can."
He added it with a fucking infuriating smirk, and I heard his footsteps getting closer. And then he was just… there. Looming over me, a shadow in the dim light, and the whole fucking cycle started again. Jacob's deep, gentle thrusts that felt like worship, followed by Damien's punishing, possessive pounding that felt like a goddamn claim. Over and over. They passed me back and forth like I was their favorite fucking toy, their own personal prize to be won and then used. Three more rounds. Three. By the end, I was a boneless, whimpering mess, my body completely overloaded, my mind a blank slate. I don't even remember falling asleep, just the feeling of being sandwiched between two hard, warm bodies, two heavy arms holding me in place, and the sheer, utter exhaustion finally dragging me under.
*the next morning*
I woke up slowly, consciousness filtering back through a thick fog. The first thing I was aware of was presence. Not just one, but two. A strong, masculine smell filled my senses, a mix of clean sweat, sex, and their individual colognes that was now permanently imprinted on my skin. My head was on a solid, warm chest, rising and falling with each steady breath. Damien. And a heavy arm was wrapped around my waist, a leg thrown over mine, pinning me in place. Jacob.
I was trapped. And, fuck me, a small, sick part of me felt safe. Dare I say happy.