SpecOps - Tanks Trials

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/27993132.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: F/M, M/M, Multi
Fandom: Anonymous (2011), Specops - Fandom, Tank - Fandom, Scorpion -
Fandom
Character: Tank, Scorpion - Character
Additional Tags: blacklivesmatter, Protests, BLM, Kinky, Shameless Smut, Smut,
Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2020-12-10 Updated: 2022-05-31 Words: 139,457 Chapters:
64/?

SpecOps - Tanks Trials

by sabrinamsexton

Summary

After years of distancing himself from anyone but his brother, Tank finds his most difficult
trials lie ahead when a fellow protester is injured. Can he save her? Can he do it without
losing himself? Does he even care?

smutty, kinky and well-developed characters loosely based on the SpecOps protesters from
DC and the hacker organization Anonymous

Shifting POV
 Disclaimer

This story is a product of my imagination. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. Any and
all depictions of the US government and/or its actions are fictional in nature and should not be
attributed to the current regime.

SMUT WARNING!! This book is not your mother's slow-burn romance novel. It is an ADULT
book with ADULT themes. BOATLOADS OF GRAPHICLY DEPICTED SEX. All characters are
over the age of 18. It features but is not limited to nudity, sexual intercourse, multiple partners, D/s,
bondage, choking/asphyxiation, degradation and anal.

Please do not try this at home unless you are experienced. I am not responsible if you break your
shit.

Editing notes: This story features a shifting POV. Each chapter is labeled in the Chapter Title so
you can keep track. Anything in italics is the internal monologue of character narrating that
specific chapter. As with the POV, this will obviously shift

It is still a WIP, but I am intending to finish it before the end of 2020.

Happy simping.
 Tank

It's been seven days.

The protests have turned deadly, but we expected that. We prepared for it. I feel sorry for the
civilians. They never expected this kind of response. You can see it in their faces. The fear. The
hatred. As if they've all been betrayed. None of them will ever again look at a cop with blind trust.
That's good. They shouldn't.

The nation mourns, the movement gaining support with every innocent life lost. When the
president authorized live ammunition, the outrage was insane. Overnight, the protests swelled, not
just here, but all over the world. It didn't last. It couldn't. Regular people aren't prepared to fight
real bullets. They can't watch as their friends and family die. Can't handle the blood. Can't listen to
the screams.

It took two days for hard copy video to make it out of the hot zone. The cops and military jammers
prevented a livestream, but this too was expected. Simmons recorded everything. He's got fifty or
so drones operating. I don't know how the fuck he programmed them, but his computer controls it
all. He's better suited to coding than me. That's why I'm out front.

My brother and I have become a little famous. It'd be funny if this whole thing weren't so sad.
Tank. Riot. I do love the internet. Everywhere we go, people recognize us calling us by the handles
we've been given. I'm not used to that. In the military, I was a ghost. My twin brother too. If we
make it out of this, I'll ask him if it's as weird for him as it is for me.

We enlisted at seventeen, not unlike many high school seniors. I kind of doubt they have the same
kind of experience though. After we both scored ninety-nine on the ASVAB, we were heavily
recruited. I can't speak for my brother, but basic felt like a joke. It was the first time in my life
anything ever made sense. The awkwardness that plagued me throughout high school disappeared.
Or maybe I just grew into my body. Sometime during my sophomore year, I went from five-foot-
seven to six-foot-nine in about six months. It happened so fast that I had no idea how to do
anything. I was awkward and clumsy. All elbows and arms.

The first day of basic training was, for me at least, a little surreal. The awkward lankiness fell away
and I settled into my own skin. Suddenly, I could run and move with fluidity. I began to put on
muscle and gain strength. I can't speak for my brother because we've never talked about it, but he
seemed to experience the same thing. We smoked the obstacle course records and weapons
training. I don't know why or how, but it felt like we were built for this - for combat - for war. With
everything in chaos, we are quiet and calm, grounded.
We rose quickly through the ranks, as if someone, somewhere was pulling strings, but at the time,
it just seemed like luck. Everything always seemed to happen in just the right way. We met the
right people at the right time. Found ourselves mentioned in debriefings. Receiving
commendations. Our security clearance kept getting higher. Our missions, more dangerous. God,
we were dumb.

I received the email in my second tour. Of course, I thought it was a joke. It couldn't be real.
Anonymous? The hacker group? Yeah, right. I deleted it and thought nothing of it. The next day,
while on a call with mom, they hacked the phone. A satellite phone. An army satellite phone.
Freakiest shit I've ever experienced to this day. One minute, my mom is asking if she can send a
care package, the next - it's the voice.

"Hello David. We are Anonymous. This is not a joke. Do not hang up."

I never did find out if they hacked the whole satellite or just the phone. Either way.

It feels like forever, but it's only been a couple years since my brother and I left the military and
moved to the private sector. We lie to mom about what we're doing when we're able to talk to her.
Mostly to keep her safe. If the government got to her, if they knew who we were. It'd be bad.
Really bad.

The lack of connection is probably the hardest part, for me anyway. I can't speak for Devon. Thank
fuck we have each other. I can't imagine being completely cut off from the world. The rest of the
team is comprised of orphans. I guess maybe it's easier that way, but we don't talk about it much,
so I don't know.

I miss mom and I haven't had a girlfriend since Amanda and I broke up. She was from my other life
- the one before Anonymous. Everything is different now. There's nothing quite like finding out
everything you thought you knew about the world is an illusion. Not like Matrix style. But...
everything's a lie. Freedom? Lie. Justice? Lie. The entire world and all eight billion of its
inhabitants are controlled by about a hundred people. If you aren't one of the hundred, you're a
slave. Period. Each country has its own ideals about how best to enslave the people, but no one is
free. Not even me.

Which brings me back to my current predicament. The cops have us pinned down. I had relieved
Devon hours ago and everything was fine. Until she showed up. I'd watched her run into the fray
with a tennis racket and pop the tear gas canister back at the police like a boss. She'd looked like a
fucking Valkyrie, beautiful and fiery, her eyes full of passion and anger. Then she'd gotten hit. She
crumbled to the ground when the bullet hit her thigh. Without thinking, I'd ran to her, scooping her
up and tossing her over my shoulder. There'd been a truck nearby and I'd used it as cover setting
her down carefully. Now, there's nowhere to run.
I look at her, her teeth clenched in pain and I'm struck. It hits me in the chest, just like the first time
I saw her. I admit I'd shown out a bit that first night trying to get her to notice me, like full on beast
mode. The entire internet is ablaze but she didn't seem to care.

A bullet pings nearby and I snap back to reality.

"Can you walk?" I ask, looking over my shoulder. We've got about sixty seconds before even this
small amount of cover evaporates. Maybe less.

"Fuck, I don't know," she says, wincing. "It's weird, almost like I can't feel it, but I totally feel it. It
burns."

She looks up at the sky, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

"It's shock," I say, standing in a low crouch. "Come on. Try."

I pull her gently to her feet but keep an arm on her shoulder so she stays low.

"I can't believe they really shot me," she says, looking down at her leg as she puts her weight on
the other foot. "Bastards."

I scowl at her.

"You're lucky you aren't dead," I say quietly, more to myself than her.

I ignore her body, so much smaller than mine protected only by a mask, some swimming goggles,
a long-sleeve turtle-neck shirt, yoga pants and sneakers. They've been using live ammo for days
now and she may as well be naked for all the protection her clothes give her. Certainly not enough
to stop bullets. Although... naked... well... I mean maybe naked she'd stun the cops into a stupor.
She would me anyway.

I look down at my protective gear but it won't help her. It's too big. My team had switched out our
gear for tactical armor on day three. Simmons said they'd switch to live ammo that night and we
were ready. She obviously wasn't. I don't know how she survived, given her utter lack of self-
preservation.

I've seen her countless times, fighting the police and the military with abandon. No care for herself
or her mortality. Helping the wounded to safety. Passing out water in our small makeshift camp.
Completely oblivious to the way she captures my attention.

She takes a step and her knee buckles, putting her back in my arms.

God.

How the fuck am I gonna save her? I look around and see a building. It's like a hundred yards
away. Way too far. We'll never make it.

I bend down and scoop her up anyway.

"Hold onto me," I say. "Don't let go. Try to keep your body in a ball. Tight."

I don't wait for a response. There's no time. I'm not religious but I pray to the gods of war or luck
that the tear gas will afford us enough cover. Then I'm running.

I stretch every sweep of my legs as far as I can, feeling my thighs burn as shots ring out. Instinct
and past experience send me veering off course and a volley of bullets hit the ground where we just
were only a second ago. I keep going, dipping back and forth as my long legs eat the distance.
We're gonna make it. We're gonna make it. We have to. We're so close. I grunt as a bullet grazes
my arm, but keep going. I'm almost there. Almost there.

I reach the edge of the building and throw myself around the corner, holding the tiny, fearless girl
tight to my chest, protecting her head with my arms as we roll. We land with her beneath me, her
head in my hand. I take a breath, ignoring the pain in my arm and look at her. She seems unfazed
but I'm stuck, staring into her eyes. Beautiful.

"Are you okay?" I say, my breaths jagged as my chest rises and falls pressing against her.
"Define okay," she says, looking up at me.

Did she just make a joke? Now? I smile behind my helmet, knowing she can't see.

"Come on," I squeeze out from between my teeth. God she's so small beneath me. I've got to get
up. Got to get up. Get up. Now. We don't have time for this. I take a deep breath and push myself
up, rolling and lifting us both so we're standing, her weight supported by my hands where I hold her
"We're not safe yet."

"Ya think?" she says raising an eyebrow. "Let's go Halo. I'm ready when you are. Or should I call
you Tank like everyone else?"

I pull her closer, tight to my chest and feel her gasp at the contact. Did I hurt her? Was it her leg? It
doesn't matter. I've got to get out of my head or I'm gonna get us both killed. I bend down and pick
her up. Her body shivers, just the slightest tremble but I feel it in my soul. I want to say something
clever. Make her smile. But there's no point. In a week I'll be somewhere else and I can't afford any
more ties.

"It doesn't matter," I say. I inhale and begin to jog down the street, putting space between us and
the guys with guns. I ignore the weight in my chest. The desire to tell her my name is so
encompassing I almost give in. But I can't. I fucking can't. "Call me whatever you want."

Audio available at https://anchor.fm/xanjel69/episodes/SpecOps---Tanks-Trials-Chapter-1-egf2rj

 Y/N

"Wait here."

The guy who's carrying me, an absolute giant of a man if I am honest about it, sets me down gently
in a little alcove under the stairwell. Fear takes over and my leg starts to throb.

"You're leaving?" I ask, my voice high and panicked. "Don't leave me here. Please."

"It's okay," he says, taking my hands and pressing them into my thigh. "I'll be right back. Keep
pressure on this. It's going to be okay."

"No, no, no, no."

I've lost the ability to form sentences or thoughts. I start to cry. Everything over the last week
catches up to me. The fear I've buried in my subconscious washes over me in waves. The pain from
my leg swallows me. I reach for Tank, grasping frantically, but my fingers can't clench. A
strangled sob chokes me, my fingers closing on nothing.

"Hey, no," he says, bending down to where I am sitting on the floor. "Don't do that. Please don't do
that. It's okay. I just have to get some supplies. I'll be right back. I promise."

"I-I... I can't... c-can't st-st-stay here," I say, stuttering as a shiver claims me. "Please, T-ank. P-
please. Don't leave me."

Tank grabs my hands holding them in his for just a moment as he looks at me. I've no idea what I
look like. I don't really care. I just don't want to be alone. I'm so scared and my leg hurts. Fuck. He
presses my hands against the wound in my leg and presses hard. The pain is sharp. Blinding.

"You can do this," he says. "You're a boss. You can do anything. Where's my fearless angel? Come
on. You got this. Press here. Do it."

Okay... I mean... he called me a fearless angel. Maybe... No. No. I can't.

I shake my head, looking up at him as I bite my lip.

"Trust me," he says. "I'll come back for you."

He holds my hands over the gunshot and waits. Maybe it was the 'trust me', spoken with such
sincerity. Maybe the soothing timbre of his voice. I press down on the wound, gritting my teeth.

"Good girl," he says.

And then he's gone. I am alone. My bottom lip quivers and tears prick my eyes. I bite my lip and
look up at the ceiling, blinking fast.

"I'm okay," I say to no one, the words soft. Tremulous. I say them again, louder this time. "I'm
okay."

But am I? Am I really? What the fuck am I doing? I could have died. I still might.

My head shakes of its own accord.

No. This fucking matters. We've made headway. The officers from the murder have all been
charged. Minneapolis is disbanding it's police force. People are talking about real issues. Calling
for real change.

I look down at my leg. It's hard to see the blood with my black yoga pants but I can feel it, soaking
the fabric. There's a small pool of it on the floor. I press harder.

"Son of a bitch," I say, the words squeezed out through my teeth.

He's coming back. He will. I don't know how I know it, but I do. Tank or whatever is his name is
will come back for me. I'm not entirely sure that makes it better. I've been shot. Like fucking shot.
With a gun.
"You're lucky you aren't dead."

That's what Tank had said. He's right. I know he is. People have died. So many. Too many. It only
made me more determined to fight. My life doesn't really matter. It never has. I'm...
inconsequential. A nobody. A second year college student with mediocre grades that I can't even
blame on corona because I've never cared that much about school.

I've got friends, but none of us matter in the scheme of things. The most notable thing I've ever
done was to NOT post the latest TikTok trend. It feels so pointless. Meaningless. Like me. So
when all my friends started doing it, I refrained in silent boycott. Obviously I couldn't say anything
to them because they might take it as criticism. And even that didn't feel important.

When the DC protests started, I joined immediately. THIS was different. Real. The first day was a
wake up call. I've known about racism my entire life, but I never realized how wide-spread it is or
how it makes people feel. The casual racism from all around me was shocking. People I've known
all my life making their true colors known. I was naive, I think, safe in my bubble of privilege.

I come from a middle-class neighborhood with a mixture of races and cultures. I've never seen
anything like the blatant and unrepentant disregard for human life I witnessed after the
Minneapolis police department was torched. People complaining about the looting and riots,
screaming back All Lives Matter as if they really believe it. As if they've been supporting the black
community this whole time. Which they haven't, in case there's any question of that.

So I joined the protest and my whole world changed. I've never been afraid of the police before.
Not ever. Never had any reason to fear them. At least I didn't think so. It will never be the same.
We protested peacefully the first day. For hours we came together and it was honestly, a beautiful
thing. The support and community was so fucking moving. I felt it in my soul.

For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I was doing something important. Something that
mattered and it filled me up with... I don't know... something. Something powerful. It felt good and
I knew I had made the right decision.

To say nothing of Tank. Holy damn. I'd seen him the first day, walking up with that gear on,
looking like he stepped out of some kind of movie or video game. Okay... I admit... I'd thought he
looked ridiculous at first. I mean yeah, he's tall... as fuck. Like fucking TALL... as FUCK. But who
was he kidding. Overkill much?

Then I watched him bully the cops and well... I honestly don't know what happened. Suddenly it
didn't feel as ridiculous. He had this energy and it was... whew... Nothing seemed to affect him.
Sun beating down on us. No problem. Rows and rows of armed cops. Yeah... he was not fazed. He
radiated confidence. Twenty cops, armed with guns and nightsticks? Yeah... he was stronger than
all of them without any weapons. As if he knew something they didn't. I've never seen anything
like him bending down to belittle the cops as he read their name tags. Not ever.

Of course... I still thought he was maybe a tad full of himself. He had to be living out some whack
gamer fantasy. I spent all day rolling my eyes at his antics. And then the police attacked us. They
fucking attacked us. For nothing. Tear gas. Rubber bullets. Beating protesters with those fucking
sticks. I admit... I panicked. Everyone did. None of us expected the police to attack. Certainly not
with that level of violence and vehemence. This is America.

You know who didn't panic? Fucking Tank. Of course... I didn't know that name yet. I'd spent all
day calling him Halo, his gear and suit reminding me of the video game. Halo aka Tank was
fearless. Calm and collected as he gave directions.

"Throw it back," he said when the first tear gas canisters landed in our group. I watched him pull
his gloves on and launch the canister back at the cops. He started catching them, football style as
the officers shot directly at him recognizing him for the threat he was. "Stay together. Pool
supplies. Set up an eye wash station out of the smoke zone."

He kept barking directions and people kept listening. He saved us that first night. Without him,
we'd have been hurt. Or arrested. Or worse. And I can admit I was happy to have thought enough in
advance to bring my mom's leather gardening gloves. I was right there in the thick of things,
throwing the smoke grenades back. I wasn't as strong, but I had gloves and they were too little to fit
anyone else. Someone had given me a pair of goggles and pushed me out into the smoke.

I felt alive as I fought for something that actually mattered. Nothing else in my entire life had ever
made me feel this way. Adrenaline and fear are an intoxicating mix. Catching Tank from the
corner of my eye doing the launch thing didn't hurt either. I maybe fell a little in love with him that
night.

He gave me the strength to keep fighting. His careless confidence was a foundation for all of us,
that first night especially. And again when the cops switched to live ammunition. When fear and
pain threatened to send us running home, Tank made us feel powerful. United.

I shake my head. My brain is rambling, filling the empty space with thoughts so I don't panic.
Right? That's what's happening? I look down at the small pool of blood. Is it bigger? I can't tell.
Maybe. Not much. I think back to biology. How much blood is in the human body? Eight pints?
Something like that I think. I haven't lost much. Maybe a pint.
I'm sitting under stairs contemplating how much blood I would have to lose before I pass out when
the door handle rattles. I shrink back against the wall in terror. It's Tank. It's got to be Tank. But...
what if it's not? What if it's the police? Will they arrest me? Kill me?

It doesn't take long for my fear to be displaced. It's him. He's back. I'm struck again by his height.
It's even more impressive from my position on the floor. So. Fucking. Tall. I sigh with relief and
blame my fangirl reaction on blood loss. That makes sense. Sure.

Like everyone on TikTok, I'd re-watched the videos of him and Riot with my friends after he'd
given us instructions on the most effective camp strategies. Everyone had followed his directions
without question. Even me. I don't ever do anything without question. But I have. All week. There's
just something about him. And I mean... he has that gear. He and his team are the only ones that
actually came prepared for war. The rest of us were... naive I think. We weren't prepared for the
police to treat us like criminals. Like terrorists.

"Told you I'd come back," he says, bending down as he drops a big duffel bag next to me.

I examine him. The mask, which I still have not seen him remove even after a week. The bullet
proof tactical vest with all it's pockets. I wonder whats in the pockets. What is essential in war?
Has he been in a war before? How does he know what's essential?

"Took you long enough," I say, letting the barest trace of a smile grace my lips. "What - you
stopped to sign autographs for the fans or something?"

I can't see his face, but he seems embarrassed.

"It's crazy," he says. "But no. I needed to make sure I had enough sterile supplies to get the bullet
out."

I swallow, reflexively.

"I'm sorry... what?" I say, my voice shaking but only a little, which given the circumstances has to
be a win. "Can't you take me to a hospital? Or call an ambulance?"

"I mean... I can... if you want," he says. "You'll be arrested. But if that's what you want then I can
try. The streets are pretty gridlocked. We'll have to get back behind the barricades. That's about ten
blocks. I'm not entirely sure we can call for an ambulance though. They've had the phone lines
blocked for days."

I shake my head. I don't want him to go through that much trouble. I can't let him carry me ten
blocks. That would be ridiculous.

"No," I say, my voice scared. "No, that's crazy. I um... fuck... I don't know. Do you know how to
do this? You're not gonna let me die right?"

"Yes," he responds. "I know how to do this. And no, I'm not gonna let you die."

He laughs, as if the question is completely unwarranted. Maybe it is. Maybe he's used to war
scenarios where people get shot and need operations on the battlefield. I shake my head.

"Who are you?" I ask, the question springing from my lips without permission from my brain. I
know he won't tell me. He and his team have been highly cryptic from day one. No one knows who
they are or where they're from. They work in shifts, trading off so there's someone with the main
protest group at all times.

Fuck... he's supposed to be with the group but he's here with me. Oh my god. What if they get
killed? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I start to cry, the tears coming, also without permission. I'm still blaming
it all on blood loss.

"You have to go back," I say, shaking my head. "They're gonna die and it will be my fault."

He looks at me quizzically as if I'm a curiosity.

"I sent Riot," he says. "We have contingency plans."

"You mean Anonymous?" I ask, nodding at the patch on his vest.

He looks at me with disapproval and I blush. I'm bleeding out here, but my stupid body apparently
hasn't lost so much blood that I can't blush in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," I say. "Forget I asked."

"It's cool," he says. "I just can't talk about this. About anything. Even being here with you puts you
at risk."

Jeezus.

"Like if you told me you'd have to kill me?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

"Like if you were traced back to me, people would kidnap you and torture you, even if you didn't
know anything." he says, devoid of emotion, like the crazy shit he just said was completely normal.
"Then they'd kill you."

"Are you kidding?" I ask, gulping nervously.

"Do you think I'm kidding?" he asks. I watch as he pulls his gloves off and washes his hands with
some of the water he brought with the supplies.

He looks at me then, his mask boring into me.

"No," I respond, tentatively. "No, I don't."

"Good," he says. "I'd really like to keep you alive. You seem cool."

I laugh. I can't help it. And then I can't laugh. I am stuck as he slowly lifts the helmet from his
head. I'm about to see his face. An international icon. A member of Anonymous. Well,
theoretically. Or some kind of underground, covert-op thing using Anonymous as a cover.

"Stop," I say, squeezing my eyes closed. "Is it safe?"

I hear him laugh again and I like the sound.

"Not remotely," he responds. "But I have to take it off so I can see to get the bullet out. We're
gonna have to risk it."

I open one eye and look at him. He's looking at me, with his FACE. His ACTUAL FUCKING
FACE. and ummmm... well... Fuck. I was NOT prepared. Not for the jawline with his stubbley
beard or the eyes that remind me of dark caramel. Not the patrician nose that's been broken at least
once before causing it to look a little crooked, but somehow still sexy. Definitely not the scar
across his cheek. Nor his light brown hair that is literally is dripping sweat. Don't think about
sweat. Don't think about sweat.

I guess I underestimated how hot the masks must be. I'm considering whether his gear has the rest
of him that sweaty as well when he begins removing his vest.

"Wait... what are you doing?"

He raises an eyebrow but keeps going, his movements deft as his fingers, his incredibly long,
dexterous fingers continue.

"Everything I'm wearing is covered in tear gas," he says calmly. "I'm changing my clothes so I
don't hurt you."

"You couldn't have done that before you came back?" I ask, my eyes closing tightly.

"Couldn't guarantee I wouldn't run into the police," he says. "It was safer. this way"

"Just hurry please," I say, forgetting temporarily that I've been shot because Tank has decided to be
naked.

"I think my virtue is safe enough," he says.

I hear him moving, hear the sound of fabric and a zipper. I try not to imagine him undressing and
FAIL. FULL ON FAIL. What the fuck is wrong with me? I've been shot and I can't do anything
but think about Tank? Naked? Well, probably not completely naked. Surely he's keeping his
underwear on. Although, maybe it was super sweaty too. There's at least a possibility of him being
completely naked right now. I should look. Just a little peak. He's obviously comfortable so why
not?

Just when I convince myself to do it, I feel his touch on my ankle. It startles me and I let out a tiny
yelp.

"Open your eyes," he says.

I do as he bids, but shut them again immediately. He's dressed now, in sweatpants and a white t-
shirt. but he's so close. Fuck. Can someone tell me why the fuck I was capable of playing war
games all week, but now I have the emotional maturity of a twelve year old? It's pathetic.

Understandable. I mean... those eyes, little flecks of dark brown and gold in them so they shine. His
mouth. The stubble of beard that has grown out over the last few days. Dear god in heaven, why?
Why is he so close? Why is he looking at me like that?

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Y/N," I respond, my eyes still shut.

"Open your eyes, Y/N," he says softly. "I won't bite."

"Well, that's a fucking tragedy," I whisper, mouthing the words to myself. Despite my protests, I
open my eyes.

"Are you ready for this?" he asks.

I take a deep breath. This is happening. This is really happening. I nod.

Audio available at https://anchor.fm/xanjel69/episodes/SpecOps---Tanks-Trials-by-

SabrinaMSexton---Chapter-2-egf49f
 Y/N

A shallow breath catches in my throat as Tank spreads a sterile mat out on the floor next to me and
begins to unpack the bag of supplies. I feel my eyes grow big, my breaths coming faster, but I don't
speak. I'm afraid, the fear palpable. I can taste it. Feel it in the air around me.

"You can stop putting pressure on that now," he says. "You did a good job."

"Thanks, I think," I say quietly. "How would you know if I'd done a bad job?"

"You'd be unconscious," he says, chuckling. "So, I don't want to be indelicate but your pants have
to come off. I can cut off one leg if you prefer. But you're still covered in tear gas. I think I should
cut them completely off. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

I stare at him for a long moment. I can't breathe. Can't move. I don't even blink.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask finally, swallowing hard.

"I can't get the bullet out or doctor on you with your pants in the way. They're contaminated and
too restrictive. I can cut them off here."

His hand hand comes to rest on my upper thigh and I gasp at the contact, my eyes locking on his.
There's no way that should feel like it does. Fuck. He's barely touching me but it feels like more.

"I'm sorry," he says, pulling his hand away. "Did I... hurt you?"

I shake my head, the movement fast and jerky.

"Okay," he says, his eyebrows dipping in what appears to be consternation. "Um, anyway. I can cut
off one pant leg, but you should really let me cut it all off. It will be better for you."

I gulp.
"You want me to sit here in my panties?" I ask, my voice high and squeaky.

"Well... yeah," he says. I watch him swallow, his adam's apple bobbing. "I brought a pair of my
boxers, but you're gonna want those for after I think and I only have one extra pair."

I look around, confused. There are two many questions. Too many variables. My brain feels
scrambled and I can't seem to hold onto any one thought.

"Is this really happening?" I ask, my voice hesitant. "I'm not like... unconscious on the battlefield,
dreaming? This is real?"

"Sorry, princess," he says. "It's real. I know it's scary. I get that. But the longer we wait, the more
susceptible you are to infection. I need you to focus."

I nod, dazed. He called me princess. Tank called me princess. What did that mean? Did it mean
anything? It didn't right. It was just random, the way people do with strangers sometimes. Like
calling someone hun. But he said 'good girl' earlier. He's killing me with the top energy. Like
killllllllling me. I'm just gonna pretend I didn't notice and that it didn't mean anything. Which it
probably didn't anyway. Yeah. Okay.

Tank snaps his fingers in front of my face and I give my head a little shake, focusing on him. I
didn't say that out loud right? God, that would have been a disaster.

"Yeah, okay," I say. "Cut them off. Although, I just want to throw it out there that this is not the
most ideal situation for you to see me in my panties. Not that you want to see me in my panties. But
if you did want to see me in them, I'm really very certain that it wouldn't be like this. I'm all dirty
and grimey and umm... fuck... I should shut up now. Yep. Shutting up. It's just fear, right? Yeah.
Fear response. Totally. I'm still talking. Okay. I'm really shutting up now. Do it. Cut them off."

I cringe inwardly. Yeah... um... that couldn't have actually gone much worse. He probably thinks
I'm an idiot. Tank pulls a pocket knife from the supplies on the mat and flips it open.

"You sure?" he asks.

I gulp. Um... no... I'm not sure. I'm not sure at all. But I don't say that. I nod slowly and swallow
hard. Tank kneels between my knees, turning to lift the edge of my yoga pants. The metal chills my
skin where it touches me. I try to take a breath, but it catches in my throat. Fuck me, I can't take
this. I bite my lip and squeeze my fingers into fists. I can't be this turned on. I've been shot for
fuck's sake. This is ridiculous.

The knife slides slowly up my shin, the material parting so easily I can't help but shiver. God it
must be really sharp. Tank is absorbed in the task, but I can't tear my eyes away from the knife to
look at him.

"Don't move," he says softly.

I give my head a little shake. I want to tell him I won't. That I will stay still but I can't form the
words. I take a ragged breath when he reaches my knee. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkkkkkk.
Why is this so fucking hot? Everywhere he touches me it's like fire, burning my skin. He's going to
operate on me. This is not supposed to be sexy. Like totally not sexy.

My body disagrees. With his fingertips trailing across my naked skin as the fabric falls away and
the knife, the incredibly sharp knife, so close to my skin, I am undone. Fear caresses me in a way
I've never experienced. He's going to run that knife up my thigh and I have no idea how to control
the wetness between my legs. He's going to see and I don't know what to do about that either. Fuck!

"Still okay?" he asks.

"Y-yeah, sure," I say, my voice breathless. If he doesn't know what he's doing to me already, he
will when he sees my panties. What is wrong with me? This is nuts. "Just be careful. Don't uh...
don't cut me."

"I won't cut you," he says, stilling his progress for a moment to look up at me. "Then you'd never
let me cut you out of your clothes again."

He winks at me and I feel my jaw drop. He looks away and the knife begins it's torturous path up
my thigh. I on the other hand am completely stuck. Did he really just say that? He did and then he
winked. Fuck. I am... NOT prepared. That fucking top energy man. He's gonna straight up destroy
me and I don't think I care. I examine my thoughts for a moment. No. I don't fucking care.

"You uh..." I swallow. Be chill. You're fine. You're a grown woman. This isn't high school and
Tank is not a boy. He's a man. Talk to him like a man. "You make a habit of cutting women out of
their clothes?"

"It's usually a dude actually," he says, grinning. "You know, combat. This is a first for me. "

"Oh really?" I smirk. "Well, not for me. I get cut out of my clothes all the time. Like every day. I
prefer it to undressing actually. Keeps me from having to do laundry."

Tank's fingers stall and he pulls the knife away, laughing. Point for me. I said something funny.
Witty even.

"I see," he says, grinning at me. "Well in that case, I don't have to be gentle. I was going slow
because I didn't want to scare you."

Wait... um... what?

Tank takes the material of my pants and jerks it, the material tearing all the way up my thigh. I
gasp. Jeezus fuck... Um... yeah, I... uhhh...

Okay. Point for him. I am going to spontaneously combust. This... is... dummy hot. I am insane.
That's the only explanation.

He turns and cuts about four inches up my other leg, then rips it too. I can't. I fucking can't right
now. My body is flushed. I can't breathe. My panties which he is going to see any minute are
dripping wet.

And THIS ISN'T EVEN SEX.

What the fuck?????

But it could be. I mean not now obviously... no one has sex before digging a bullet out of their leg.
But you know, later... God, I'm a mess. This train of thought isn't helping. Think about something
else. Anything else. Baseball. No, that won't work. I don't know anything about baseball.
Tank looks at me and smirks before sliding the knife from hip to hip. Fucking shit. He knows what
he's doing to me. He has to. I bite my lip to keep from moaning, but god damn. I want to. Like...
there's a bullet in me and I kinda don't care.

Wait... what if that's the point? What if he's just doing this to distract me? Would he do that? I don't
know. I don't know anything about him. I find myself scowling as he dips the knife beneath my
navel and makes the last cut. My pants fall to the side and I fight the urge to cover myself.

Tank takes a deep breath. Then another. He doesn't speak and I don't either. I watch him look at
me. Watch him swallow hard as he sees the evidence of just how much he's affecting me. My
knees begin to pull closed, reflexively.

"Okay," Tank says, seeming to snap out of his own daze. "So um... I'm gonna just... take these out
of the way here and then I'll wash my hands and clean the area. And um, yeah. We'll get started."

Audio available at https://anchor.fm/xanjel69/episodes/SpecOps---Tanks-Trials-by-

SabrinaMSexton---Chapter-3-egf4qu
 Tank

I pull the shredded pants out from under Y/N's ass and stand, taking them to the trash can by the
door in the corner. I need a minute to center myself, to get my shit together. I have no idea what the
fuck just happened. We went from playful banter to me wanting to shove my face between her legs
and taste her. Not like oh... I could be down for that. No, it took everything in me not to do it. Mind
you, she's still bleeding from being shot. What the fuck does that say about me?

She was so wet. Her panties soaked through and the scent of her... God, I want her. I can still
fucking smell her.

I glance down and shake my head. My dick is making a nuisance of itself. I casually adjust while
I'm turned away and banish the image of her coming on my face.

I shouldn't have flirted with her. I don't know what came over me. I'm too old for her. She can't be
more than nineteen and I'm closer to thirty than I am twenty.

Besides which... I'm too dark for someone like her. Too damaged. Despite running around the
battlefield like a tiny ninja, there's something soft about her. Something sweet.

I'm... not. Not behind closed doors. Not during sex. I've dealt in violence for almost ten years. I
don't think I even remember lovey-dovey sex. Even with Amanda, it was always rough.
Animalistic.

Most people never see that part of me. I put a lot of energy into my interactions with people. Into
how I'm perceived. Being this tall with my build is a huge benefit but it has it's drawbacks. I am
just different enough to be considered a novelty. A giant. Ignorant. I hate that. So I compensate in
an effort to forestall people's judgment.

I put more energy into a random conversation at the grocery store or while pumping gas than most
people do their actual relationships. Its difficult to reflect education and intelligence without
coming across as self-important or condescending. Especially when you're always looking down at
someone while you talk to them.

That level of commitment to even the most passing conversation becomes tiring. Hiding so much
of myself in an effort not to intimidate people is exhausting. Consequently, it's not a quality I've
successfully mastered during sex. I've gotten to the point where I don't even try.
I tried with Amanda. I kept my desires largely checked, letting her see only the tiniest portion of
what I wanted. A hand around her throat while I kissed her. Pulling her hair or biting her, little
gentle bites that didn't even leave a mark. That was it. That was all I ever did.

She didn't like it. Didn't want it. At least that's what she told me when we broke up. She'd never
mentioned it before then. Never complained or acted like she wasn't enjoying everything I did to
her. Never asked me to stop. I would have. But it doesn't matter now.

When it comes down to it... I'm a freak and I'm not going to expose Y/N to that. Which means I've
got to get myself under control. I have to stop flirting with her. I shouldn't even look at her.

Yeah... that's the plan.

I walk back determinedly and wash my hands. I don't look at Y/N. This is a mission. There's no
room for anything but the mission. That's not true, of course. If it were, I'd have sent someone else
to doctor on her. So then what am I doing? I don't have an answer for that so I'm not going to
examine it. Just gonna throw it in a box in the back of my brain. Definitely not going to examine
why I find her so enticing. Or why I can barely think of anything besides fucking her when we
touch. All that shit gets boxed.

"So here's what's going to happen," I say. "I'm going to clean the area with iodine. That part won't
hurt very much, just a little. I don't have any way of knocking you out. I'll have to use a local.
There'll be a little discomfort, but it won't be unbearable. You can handle it. The needle is very big.
Some people find it scary, but it's not too bad. There will be a stick and it will burn a little when I
administer it, but only for a couple of seconds. I'll give it a few minutes to take effect then dig the
bullet out. Cleanse and disinfect the wound and give you some stitches. Any questions?"

"Um... no... I guess not," she responds, nervously.

"Don't be scared," I say, my eyes meeting hers. "It's only going to hurt a little. I promise."

I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze. Her hand is so small. Do not think about her hands.
About them touching you. Exploring you. Boxes. I need more boxes.

"Don't make fun of me if I cry," she says. "I've never even broken a bone before."
"Look at you now," I say, grinning despite myself. "It's like max level street cred for getting shot
by a cop."

"It's crazy right?" she asks. "Fucking cops. Even with people getting shot for the last few days, I
don't think it became real until I actually got shot. That sounds ridiculous. I know it does. It just... I
don't know... Ignore me. I'm not making sense."

"No I understand," I respond. "You've spent your entire life believing the cops were there to protect
you. It's hard to erase a lifetime of ingrained ideals."

I grab the iodine swab and peel it open.

"This will stain and hurt a little," I tell her before rubbing the swab over her thigh. I start at the
wound draw an expanding spiral outwards several inches around. I try not to focus on her hands
clenched tightly at her side and the little hiss of pain. Before I have a chance to shelve it, my brain
serves up the idea that she'd sound like that if I kissed her. That I'd pull her hair and she'd make that
exact sound. And then I see it in my mind and fuck if it's not hot. I take a breath. Get it together.
This is ridiculous. You're better than this. Your control is better. Mission. Think about the mission.
"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she responds, her teeth clenched. "I'm okay."

When the area is disinfected I grab the package with the anesthetic syringe.

"You might want to look away for this part," I say.

"It'll be okay," she says. "I want to see."

"So fierce," I say. "Take a long, deep, slow breath. I want you to count to four as you inhale. Eight
on the exhale. Long and slow. Don't hold your breath, okay? Trust me, it hurts more."

"Okay," she says, her voice higher now.

I begin, injecting a liberal dose of the anesthetic in several places around the wound. While the
chemical takes affect, I unwrap the sterile tools and supplies, arranging them on a little metal tray.
It takes about an hour to get the bullet out and the wound cleansed, but I finally finish. I tie the last
stitch and put a wide bandage over it. My fingers press the sticky material into Y/N's thigh. She
leans her head back against the wall and bites her lip, eyes closing.

That. That's that shit right there. It drives me crazy how she responds to my touch. Simple acts take
on a new flavor. I tell myself to pull away, but my fingers linger. I look at her and I want her. I want
to kiss her, taste her. Fuck her. Now that the surgery part is over, I'm right back where I started. I'd
say horny, but it's more visceral than that. More encompassing.

"You did good," I say softly, grabbing the boxer shorts. "No tears."

"It didn't hurt as much as I expected it too," she says, her lips moving, but her head remaining in
place against the wall. "You have very skilled hands. I mean... um... well, you know what I'm
trying to say, right? You did a good job too. Thank you."

She has no idea how much I want to show her my other skills.

"You don't have to thank me," I respond. "Come on. I'll help you up so you can put these on."

She pulls away from the wall, her eyes opening as if from a long sleep. This is my attempt at
distancing myself. At being a good guy.

"I do actually," she says, her hand coming to rest on my arm. "I meant to already. Thank you for all
this. And for saving me. At best I'd have been arrested. I don't... I don't even wanna think about the
worst."

"You're welcome," I say, looking into her eyes. "Let's get you dressed."

I take her hand and grab her waist pulling her up with me as I stand. I hear her gasp. Feel her pulse
quicken in her wrist. She looks up at me, her eyes half-lidded and dark with desire. Her gaze drops
to my mouth and her lips part.

I swallow, my good intentions evaporating in a rush. My dick hardens, faster than it has since I was
a teenager. I stare at her mouth, her lips parted, breaths shallow. Fuck the boxes.
I lift her up and and back her into the wall, my head lowering. I had tried to fight it. I know I should
keep fighting, but I can't. My hips press against her, bracing her against the wall. And then I'm
kissing her.

I grab her ponytail, winding it around my hand and pull, just a little. She moans and the sound
vibrates through me. I want her so fucking bad I can't think.

I bite her bottom lip, groaning when she arches into me, her mouth opening wider. She bites me
back and a jolt of fire goes straight to my dick. Whatever reasoning capacity I had, dissolves.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. She meets my passion and gives it back, amplified,
her hunger matching mine, taking from me just as I'm taking from her.

I can't think. Can't breathe. Nothing exists but her. I want... fuck, I want it all. I tear my lips away
from her mouth and lean my forehead against hers, breathing hard, like I just ran a mile.

"You should go," I say, attempting one last time to be a good person. A good man. "I don't want to
hurt you."

She grabs my hair and pulls, hard. My eyes darken, my cock pulsing where it presses against her.
We stare at each other, eyes blazing.

"I almost died today," she says, her voice breathy and low. "Hurt me. I don't care. Just don't make
me leave."

Audio available at

https://anchor.fm/xanjel69/episodes/SpecOps---Tanks-Trials-by-SabrinaMSexton---Chapter-4-
egf5at
 Y/N

I think I shocked him when I pulled his hair. For a minute he didn't move. Didn't react. Didn't
breathe. Maybe it was too much.

I wet my lips and swallow. I shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have said that. I release my grip on
his hair and turn my face away, embarrassed.

What had I said? 'Hurt me. I don't care.' Jesus, that's gonna require a boatload of therapy right
there.

"You don't know how close I am to losing control," he says, his voice barely a whisper.

I turn back, emboldened.

"Do it then," I say, surprising myself. "Lose control. I want to feel you."

"You think that," he says. "But you don't know."

"You're right," I respond. "I don't know. You could hurt me. But if that was your goal then like...
digging the bullet out would have been an egregious waste of time."

He chuckles.

"You're funny," he says.

"No, you're funny," I respond. "You kiss me senseless and then decide it's a bad idea. Who does
that?"

He sighs.
"It's complicated," he says, looking away from me.

"It's not," I say. "Tank, look at me."

He turns his head back and I want to lose myself in his eyes. I wonder if maybe I haven't already.

"Look," I say. "If you don't want to fuck me, fine. Whatever. I'm a big girl. I'll get over throwing
myself at you. But if you want me... Take me. Stop worrying about hurting me and hurt me
already dammit."

I watch him weigh my words. Watch him measure his actions and realize he's going to say no. I
open my mouth again to speak. No... to beg.

"I want you," I say, my words coming quickly. "I need you. God, Tank. You're not gonna hurt me.
I know it. Don't make me leave. Don't make me look back on this moment and wonder what I was
supposed to say or do. Please."

I wrap my legs around his hips, my eyes closing in pleasure as his hard cock presses against me
through my panties. God. I might not actually recover if he walks away.

"Please," I say. I whimper, grinding shamelessly against him. My lips find his bare wrist and I nip
at it. He groans as my teeth graze him. I bite harder.

"You're such a bad girl," he says. "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"I don't know why," I say. "Neither of us want that. Tell me you don't want to be inside me."

He considers this for a moment. I watch as thinks about it.

"You're right," he says.

And then he's kissing me. No. He's devouring me. He claims my mouth, owning my lips and
tongue and teeth with each swipe of his tongue. He teases, his lips pulling away from mine,
hovering just out of reach. I lean forward trying to capture his mouth but his hand is still wrapped
tightly in my hair. I gasp at the way it pulls. How it hurts. My pussy creams and I'm fucked. I know
it. So fucking screwed. There won't be any coming back from this one.

"Please," I whisper, my breath catching.

"Tell me you want me," he says, pulling far enough away for me to focus on his eyes.

"I want you," I say without hesitation.

He pulls my hair, angling my jaw to the side, exposing my neck. I can't think. He pulls harder, and
runs a finger of his other hand down the taut expanse of throat. My pulse jumps under his touch, so
fast. I tremble, whimpering at his touch. It's everything. And nowhere near enough.

"Please, god, Tank," I say, my voice cracking. Almost a sob. His hand wraps around my throat, his
fingers at the nape of my neck, his thumb caressing up and down my windpipe. His hands are so
big. So fucking big.

"I want everything," he says, his tongue licking the corner of my mouth, sending a shiver down my
spine.

"It's yours," I breathe. It's not even a lie. At this point, I don't think I've ever actually been kissed
before. Oh, I've had some fumbled attempts. Teenage boys with no idea what they were doing.
Hard pokey tongues pushed halfway down my throat or way too wet. No this is different. This is
mastery.

"I want to taste you on my tongue," he says, the feel of his lips speaking against the corner of my
mouth while he holds me helpless, intoxicating. "I want to feel your body spasm around my
fingers. Your mouth on my dick. Then your pussy wrapped around it. I want it all."

"Yes," I breathe. "Please."

My body slides down the wall with delicious friction as he sets me down. His thumb traces up my
jaw and across my bottom lip. I suck it into my mouth, nibbling on the pad before he draws it out,
pulling my lip with it. The sensation is insane. It catches my breath in my throat, a moan coming
unbidden.
Tank drops down to his knees in front of me and the height difference ceases to be a problem. He
kisses me roughly. Demanding. I open my mouth, letting him take what he wants, running my
fingers down his chest. I bite his lip, and am rewarded with a growl from his throat that resonates in
some primal part of my brain.

"Too many clothes," I say, wanting his skin against mine.

"Shhh..." he responds. "I'm not done."

He lifts my shirt, bending down to nibble at my stomach, licking and biting an inch at a time as he
slowly lifts the material.

"You're making me crazy," I say, grabbing onto his shoulder for support.

"Good," he says.

When he reaches my chest, he pulls the shirt up and over my shoulders in one smooth motion.

"Off," he says, nodding at the sports bra. "Unless you want me to cut it off."

"Um..." I respond.

I swallow hard. Are we back to the clothes cutting thing? The knife? I think he might have short-
circuited my brain with that actually. I am stunned into silence.

"I see," he says, a wicked grin on his face. He reaches for the pocket knife in the supplies by our
feet. A flick of his wrist flips it open. "Good girl."

My breaths come faster. Fuck. Umm... yeah.

The knife slips under the bottom edge, the fabric splitting instantly. I try not to breathe, but I can't
help it. My heart is beating so fast. My chest, rising and falling, pressing the knife harder against
my skin. My free hand lifts unbidden to my mouth, forming a fist as I bite down on my first
knuckle, hard, using the pain to focus my attention. Forcing my body's response to slow, my
breaths to calm. My hand falls away, coming to rest at my side.

"Interesting," he says. "Seems you meant it at least."

"Hmmm?" I ask, my voice sounding far away.

Tank nods at my hand where my forefinger bears the clear imprint of my teeth.

"When you said I could hurt you," he says. "You like pain."

The knife cuts through the rest of the material and the tight bra snaps open, exposing my skin to his
hungry eyes.

"I guess," I choke out when he bends down for my panties. "Wait. I may need those."

I guess, technically... I really needed the sports bra too. I don't know why I let him cut if off me. Or
why it was so hot when he did. I slip my fingers into the edges of my panties on my hips and push
them down to mid-thigh. I look at Tank as they fall to the floor. Watch his eyes darken. His jaw
tics and I wonder if I'm affecting his control yet.

"Now I'm naked," I say. "Which means you have way too many clothes on."

"I disagree," he says.

"But..."

Tank cuts my words off and sucks a nipple into his mouth. I pant, the contact overwhelming as his
teeth scrape the taut nipple. He drops the knife and grabs my other breast. My nipple pebbles in his
fingers when he pinches it, drawing a gasp from my lips. He's toying with me. Teasing me. Licking
softly then biting or pinching. I can't breathe. Or think. He moves to lathe my other nipple and cool
air finds the first, still wet from his mouth.
Yeah... I was right. He's going to destroy me and I don't fucking care.

"Tank please," I beg, although for what I don't know.

My pussy is throbbing between my legs. Aching and he hasn't even breathed on it.

"Tell me what you want," he commands, softly tonguing my sore nipple.

Fuck. I've never felt like this. Never burned like this. I don't know what he's doing to me but it's
good. It's so good.

"More," I respond.

He flicks my nipple hard, the pain slicing sharply through me.

"Tsk tsk," he says. "Try again."

His fingers roll my nipple between them, a soft touch and I'm hopelessly incapable of thought.

"More... please?" I ask, my voice high at the end, filled with uncertainty.

"Very nice," he says, his hand dropping to skim my belly. He runs a finger along my navel and I
shiver in response.

"My stomach?" I ask, holding onto his shoulder as my legs threaten to buckle.

He shakes his head.

"Your voice when you beg," he says. "I could listen to that forever. I may never let you come."
An anguished sob escapes my lips at the idea but he ignores it, running his hand down until he
comes to rest just above my clit, drawing little circles with his finger.

"So wet," he says. "You've been wet for hours, poor thing."

His finger moves slowly towards my clit.

"Spread your legs, but keep your weight mostly on your good leg," he says. "I don't want you to
fall."

"Good leg?" I respond. I can barely string two thoughts together. Not with him touching me. Not
the way he's touching me.

"The one that didn't get shot," he says, grinning.

Oh. Yeah. That's a real thing that happened today. I guess I forgot... which is ridiculous. Sex brain
is a helluva drug. I shift my weight and then I can't think of anything. He slips a finger inside me,
hooking it so he can rub my g-spot while he bites my clit.

I make a noise, but I don't know how to qualify it. More than a moan. Less than a scream. My
knees want to buckle and I'm lost.

"Oh god, please," I cry. "I can't take it."

"Yes you can," he says, his finger rubbing back and forth on my g-spot as he sucks my clit. "You
love it. Tell me you love it."

"I love it," I say, my voice desperate. "Please."

"Such a good girl," he says. "Good girls get presents."

He licks me with a long, slow stroke, his tongue flat and tortuously soft.

"Dear fucking jesus in heaven," I moan, my knees giving just a little, the wall doing more to hold
me upright than my body.

"I don't think he can help you," Tank says.

He sucks my clit into his mouth in a way I've never felt. With so much pressure and the barest
touch of teeth on my mound. I'm dying. He's going to kill me with his mouth.

"Yes, god, fuckkkkkk," I exclaim.

"Spread your lips for me," he says. "Let me see your pretty pussy."

I would have thought I'd be self conscious to be on display this way, but I can't seem to care. I do as
he says, reaching down to spread my self for him.

"So fucking hot," Tank says, slipping a second finger inside me and forcing a long moan from my
mouth. His fingers move in and out a few times and I stop breathing, my lungs ceasing to function.

"Tank, please," I say, the words clipped and choppy, barely audible.

"David," he says, the words soft. "My name is David. I want to hear you say it. I want to hear it
when you come."

My mind is in freefall as Tank or rather David, god that's a nice name, as David goes back to
sucking my clit, tonguing it and driving me crazy while his fingers stroke my g-spot. My legs start
to shake and I know I'm close. So close. I lean against the wall, pussy lips spread, clenching tight
around his fingers as he sucks my clit.

"Oh god, David," I cry. The orgasm hits me like a bomb sucking all the air into the center before
exploding out in waves of force and pleasure. It rolls through me in spasms, each one tightening my
core. "David, David, David."
He doesn't stop, his fingers and his mouth, pushing it higher, drawing out every single spasm. My
legs stop working and he pulls away, catching me easily and laying us down on the floor. On
another day, in another life, I might have cared that I just had the best orgasm I've ever experienced
in a stairwell of a public building. But not now. Not today.

"Good girl," he says, kissing me on the mouth, the taste of my pussy on his lips.

Fuck. I think I love him.

Audio available at

https://anchor.fm/xanjel69/episodes/SpecOps---Tanks-Trials-by-SabrinaMSexton---Chapter-5-
egf5oh
 Tank

"Catch your breath," I say, my arms squeezing around her.

"No," she says. "I can breathe when I'm dead."

I look down at her and find myself smiling.

"Not really," I say. "It's kind of hard to breathe when you're..."

My words fail me when she reaches between us, running her hand along my dick. It's so hard. I
don't think it's ever been this hard. She squeezes it through my sweatpants, her hand moving up
and down before slipping into my pants.

"I didn't tell you that you could do that," I say, my teeth clenched. She rubs the head of my cock
with a finger, smearing my pre-cum around the tip.

"I didn't ask," she says, unfazed. "You tasted me. I want to taste you."

She scoots down my body and pulls my dick out before I even have a chance to think about what
she said.

"Good lord," she murmurs, looking up at me.

I grin and shrug my shoulders, feeling sheepish for some unknown reason. I know my dick is big.
Women generally approach it in one of two ways. Some of them see it as a personal challenge. The
others decide it's too much.

"So is it like registered as a deadly weapon?" she asks. "Do you have to have a special license? Has
it ever killed somebody?"

I squeeze my my lips together, trying to stem the smile but I can't help it. I start to chuckle, then
laugh.
"Is your penis on the FBI's most wanted list?" she asks. "You can tell me."

I lose it, my shoulders shaking from a deep belly laugh.

"You're killing my whole vibe," I say, shaking my head. "I'm over here trying to be sexy and you
got me giggling."

"I mean... it's not like you gotta try to be sexy," she says, rolling her eyes. "It's like your default
setting."

I want to laugh, or compliment her but this is the moment she chooses to bend down and lick the
tip of my dick. She's tentative at first, swirling her tongue around the head. I try not to embarrass
myself moaning and groaning, but her mouth is so warm. I reach down and grab her hand wrapped
around the base of my dick. I stroke my cock with her hand, once, twice. There's something about
seeing her hand beneath mine. It's fucking hot.

She sucks me into her mouth, just a little, sucking hard for moment, then licking around the tip. As
she pulls back, spit falls from her mouth. Her hand strokes up, rubbing the wetness down the shaft
and I can't help the moan that escapes my mouth. It turns into a groan as she begins a slow stroke.
My hand falls away and she looks up at me, sin in her eyes. My teeth clench as I watch her watch
me. She's stupid hot.

Her mouth takes me again, meeting her hand at the top of every stroke, taking more and more of
me into her mouth. It's so good. Too good. I'm going to come if I don't stop her and I don't want to
come yet. I wind my hand into her hair and pull her to the tip. She makes a sound, a whimper, like
I've taken her toy away. It's god damned adorable.

"Come here," I say.

"I wasn't done," she pouts.

"I want to be inside you," I say. "I want to make you come again. Want to feel your body spasm
with my dick buried in your tight little pussy."
I watch as her breath catches in her throat. She bites her lip. I love doing that to her.

"Oh," she says, still breathless. "O-okay. Was it not good?"

I chuckle.

"You're kidding right?" I ask. "It was great. I just didn't want to come yet. I told you I want it all.
You thought I was kidding?"

"No," she says. "I guess not. I just thought maybe you didn't like it."

"I loved it," I say, smiling as I fish out my wallet for a condom. "Now stop stalling and come here."

I bite the package and tear it, pull the condom out and begin to roll it on my dick. When I have it in
place, I pull her towards me and roll her onto her back, holding her head in my hand. I get a flash of
the battlefield and that moment when I met her eyes for the first time as I held her in this same
position after running from gunfire. I wonder if she's thinking about it too.

I kiss her now because I couldn't then. I try to keep it soft, slow, but she's grinding against me and
biting me. I hear a growl and realize it's me. That she's... I don't know... communing with the
caveman part of my brain or something. Fuck it's hot though. I give up treating her with kid gloves
and grab her chin, holding her still as I drop tender bites along her jaw.

She moans, thrusting against me, begging me to enter her without words, but I wait. Enjoying the
noises she makes as I tease her. With my other hand, I touch her, fingers trailing against her,
circling her breasts but never touching the nipple. Down her stomach, along the crease of her
thigh.

She's wet. I know that already. I ignore her pussy and her clit, running my fingers instead over
everything else. We kiss again, her impatience making her fiesty. I fucking love it. She's bold and
fearless. Fun. And the sounds she makes. God. It's like I don't even have ears. The sounds go
straight to my dick.

I give her pussy a little smack and she gasps. My dick flexes eagerly, the movement unconscious.
Reflexive. I can't wait to fuck her. To see her eyes roll back and know that I made her do it. To hear
my name on her mouth.
"What was that for?" she asks when she can speak, her voice low and throaty.

"Because I could," I respond. "Because your pretty little pussy is begging for it.

I dip my fingers inside her and find her soaked. I expected that though. I stroke her slit a few times
before drawing the moisture up to her clit.

"Oh god," she says. her hips moving now, trying to press closer towards my hands. I love this part.
When a woman reaches the point of utter abandon. No longer caring what they look like or how
they sound, the pleasure overtaking everything.

"Tell me what you like, princess" I say, my mouth moving against hers. "Tell me how you touch
yourself in the dark."

My lips curve up at the corner when she grabs my hand and shows me.

"I can barely think," she says. "You want me to talk? Impossible."

She guides my hand and I commit it to memory for future use. The pressure. The placement. I like
touching her. Watching her. I like the flush in her cheeks and breasts. Her legs start to shake and I
pull my fingers away.

"No," she whines. "Please."

"Not yet," I respond, kissing her and playing with her breasts.

I pinch and squeeze them, fondle them. Her head thrashes when the frustration gets bad and I roll
the lower half of my body over her, taking care not to press into her injured leg. I push myself up
and grab my dick, rubbing it against her clit. The moan she makes as her back arches steals my
control. I press the tip of my cock against her wet slit and glide it back and forth, her juices coating
me as I tease her clit.
I want to bury myself in her. Take her hard and rough, but I hold back. It will make her orgasm
better. And I love it. I'm not, strictly speaking, a sadist. But I love to tease. I like to take a woman to
the edge of pleasure and keep her there. Take her up to the edge over and over again, pushing it
higher with each pass. I like the feeling of control. Of knowing that we both got off, not just me.

And so I tease, the ache in my cock almost unbearable as I unwittingly do to myself everything I'm
doing to her. The higher I push her, the higher I push myself. My dick is begging for release.
Throbbing with it. Aching.

"David please," she screams. "Please fuck me. I need you inside me. Just please..."

I bend down and lick her mouth, positioning myself.

"Good girl," I say, sinking into her.

She's so fucking tight. I pull back and push again, stretching her. She moans, her fingernails
digging into my forearms. In and out, a little more each time, letting her pussy find room for me.

"Oh my god," she says, shaking her head. "It's so big."

I slow stroke a few more times before finally burying myself in her perfect pussy. I hold there for a
moment, kissing her mouth, running my finger along her jaw.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"No," she says, her head shaking softly. "You're inside me and you're still not fucking me. Please. I
need it."

I love the way she begs. There's something about it that transcends damn near anything else. I take
her at her word, lifting my upper body and leaning back. I play with her clit as I slide slowly back,
until only the tip remains. She waits, holding her breath and it's so fucking hot. I push her legs
further apart and angle them back towards her head.

"Hold here," I say, squeezing each of her thighs. She moves immediately, doing what I told her and
I love it. The look in her eye. The sounds she's making. I feel like a god in this moment. I thrust
deep, filling her in an instant unlike the careful stretching before. Again and again, I pound into
her. It's fucking heaven.

I'm claiming her. Making her mine. Ruining her. I fuck her with intent, determined to wipe away
any other man that's ever been here. She feels like mine and I show her without words.

"More," she says, her voice whimpering. "Faster."

"Play with your clit," I say, holding her legs. I can go faster. Harder. I can brand her with my sex. I
feel her body tremble. Know she's close. "Don't come."

"David, please," she cries.

"Be good," I say, my dick slamming into her violently. "You come when I say."

"Please," she begs.

I pull out of her, slapping her clit with my cock.

"David, I can't," she says. "I can't stop it. I'm going to come. Please."

"Don't you dare," I say, pushing back inside her. "You're mine."

"Yes," she says.

"Your pussy is mine," I say, stroking hard. "Say it."

"My pussy is yours, David," she responds.

"Such a good girl," I say. "Come Y/N. Come for me now."

"Oh god," she says, the shudders already wracking her body.

Her pussy contracts in violent spasms around my dick and I can't hold back anymore. I will fuck
her longer next time. My tempo speeds, fucking her fast and so hard as she comes on my cock.

"Mine," I growl, my orgasm overtaking me savagely. I come hard, my orgasm lasting forever as her
pussy spasms around me.

"God, yes," she says. "I'm yours David."

In this moment, I believe it. I feel it too. But there's more to life than this moment.

Audio available at https://anchor.fm/xanjel69/episodes/SpecOps---Tanks-Trials-by-

SavrinaMSexton---Chapter-6-egf67r
 Y/N

David removes the condom and pulls me in close to him. He tucks my head under his chin and we
lay this way for several minutes, my neck supported by his arm. The cold floor feels good against
my hot skin. For a little while, I don't think about anything. Not the protests. Not the president. Not
the police. For a little while, there is only this hazy, happy glow. A part of me wants to drown in it.
To go to sleep and pretend that the last week or so wasn't real. But then I wouldn't be laying here. I
wouldn't have had this amazing experience.

It occurs to me at some point that I'm completely naked and laying on the floor. Whereas David
still has on all his clothes. It also occurs to me that we are in a stairwell. That anyone could walk in
at any time. I don't want to break the spell. But I need my clothes on at least.

"David," I say softly.

"Hmm?" he responds.

"I need to put my clothes on," I say.

That's not what I want to do. I want to drag him away from here. Take him home with me and fuck
him for days. Weeks... Okay... maybe forever. But I can't do that.

"Not yet," he says, squeezing me. "I like you naked. I've thought about you naked for days. You're
not going to deprive me of it now that I finally have what I want."

"You... you have," I ask, stunned.

"You've been running around fighting a war without any protective gear," I say. "I always think to
myself that you might as well be naked."

I don't know why but this comment is both pleasing and offensive. I push away from him a little
bit, so I can look up and see his face.

"Note to self," I say sardonically. "Purchase riot gear and store in hallway closet until the next
protest."

"I..."

He starts to say something, but I don't let him finish.

"I guess I could have waited for Amazon Prime," I say. "What's two days really?"

"I didn't..."

"Unlike some people," I clear my throat, "I never thought this was going to be anything but a
peaceful protest. Should I have left when it became a war? Turned around and went home?"

The more I talk the angrier I become. I pull out of his arms and turn away, looking for the boxer
shorts he had earlier. He grabs my arm, but I shrug him off. I've been proud of myself for the
choices I've made over the last week. My cheeks heat with anger. So nice to know that the guy I
just fucked thinks I'm stupid.

I spot the boxers and lean over to grab them.

"Stop," David says, his voice sounding strange. "Will you listen to me?"

I breathe heavily. My eyes start to sting and I don't know why. I'm not crying. I'm NOT. I blink
fast, glad he can only see my back.

"What's there to say?" I ask, my voice soft and pitiful. How the fuck did that happen? How did my
anger change so quickly into sadness. "You think I'm dumb."

I can't believe we're having this conversation while I'm still naked. If I close my eyes, I can still
feel him inside me. My body aches from the way he fucked me. I thought he liked me. Thought he
respected me. I thought we were fighting together. I shake my head, trying to banish these
thoughts, at least until I am alone.
"I've been terrified they would kill you," he says softly. "That you would die and I'd never even
know your name."

I turn back towards him, as if pulled by some unseen force. I need to see his face. His emotions are
raw and flying over his face too fast for me to decipher. He rakes a hand through his hair.

"I don't think you're dumb," he says. "I think you're brave and fearless and beautiful."

"Oh..." I respond, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I look at
him over the tops of my knees, feeling somewhat mollified.

"I think it's dumb that you're at risk in the first place," he says. "I think it's dumb that the police and
the president put you in this position. And me... I'm dumb. There's no room for this in our lives
right now, but I couldn't think past having you. I still can't. My brother is out there fighting and all
I can think about is kissing you again. Being inside you. That kind of shit will get someone killed
and I don't care. I even told you my name. Do you know how dumb THAT was? That information
is dangerous. People would kill you for even that much. I put you at risk, so I could hear you say it
while I fucked you. Because I didn't want you to call me Tank. Because I wanted a real connection
instead of something ... I don't know. False... Or fleeting... I wanted you to see ME. Know ME.
Fuck ME. Not Tank. Not some SpecOps dude. So yeah... I'm the dumb one."

I swallow hard.

"I don't know what to say," I respond.

And I don't. I have no fucking clue what to say to any of that. It was honest. And... unexpected. It
was moving. My eyes are drawn to his stomach, where a red line has spread.

"Oh my god, you're bleeding," I exclaim.

I forget that I'm naked or that he's crashing through whatever defenses I may have once had around
my heart. I reach for him and he looks down.

"It's nothing," he says, shrugging. "The bullet just grazed me. It'll be fine."
"You idiot," I say, smacking his chest. "You were shot? You doctored on me and fucked me and
you're still bleeding?"

He glares at me.

"It's really not that bad," he bites out.

"You're BLEEDINGGGGGGGG," I say, emphasizing the word dramatically. I put my hands on

my hips. "At least let me wash it. Put a bandage on it. Something."

He looks me up and down and I realize I'm still naked. My hands move to cover myself, a
subconscious reflex. I don't know why. He's already seen me. I step away, in the general direction
of the boxers.

"Uh-uh," he says, reaching for my arm. "You can only doctor on me if you do it naked."

"Oh my god," I say, huffing. "You're ridiculous."

He takes a step, our bodies touching again.

"Stop that," I say. "Stop using your... sex appeal... or whatever all this is against me."

I take a step backwards and gesture at him.

"No," he says, the word having a finality to it.

"No?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

"No," he repeats.

"Fine," I respond, shrugging. "Bleed to death."

I turn away and bend down to retrieve the boxers.

I let out a little scream when his finger slides into me from behind. I hadn't heard him move. I want
to be mad, but he slides it in and out, hitting this spot inside that makes my knees weak. My pussy
is swollen and sore, but somehow it's delicious with his finger inside me. I bite my lip and let out a
little moan.

"Someone could see," I say, remembering the part that I've somehow forgotten for the last few
hours.

He chuckles.

"The door is locked," he says. "This is one of our fallback locations. No one can get in here but my
people and they're not coming unless I need them."

"Are you serious?" I ask, stunned.

"Yes," he says, his fingers sliding out of me then sliding against my slit until he reaches my clit. I
spread my legs a little, giving him better access. The motion is reflexive. I didn't even realize I was
going to move until it had already happened.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask.

His other hand comes to rest above my tailbone, one finger tracing along my spine. I shiver, but I
don't move. I stay there, in this undignified position, bent over with my pussy exposed, waiting for
his response. His fingers reach the nape of my neck, sifting through my hair until he grasps a wad
of it. He pulls me up, slowly, pushing his fingers back inside me as I rise. My eyes close and a
moan escapes my lips.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, ignoring my question. His lips are pressed against my ear, his
breath soft, a gentle caress.

"Yes... No... I don't know," I say. "Answer my question... please."

"What 'this' are you referring to?" he asks. "Why are my fingers inside you? Why have I locked us
in my fallback spot? Why am I here protesting?"

He slides a second finger inside me and I draw a shaky, ragged, gasp of a breath.

"Oh fuck," I say, my voice cracking. My pulse speeds. "Yes. All of those."

"My fingers are inside you because I want them there," he says. "We're locked inside the fallback
spot because I needed someplace safe to operate on you. And I'm protesting for the same reason
you are... black lives matter, racism is evil, and the system that was put in place is outdated and
systemically faulty. Also because I hate Trump. Not really a fan of the government in general, but
him especially."

"Um... okay," I say, gulping. It's so hard to think right now. With his fingers inside me. I feel his
lips on my shoulder, feel his teeth graze the skin there and I shudder. "Why... why um... fuck...
why are you still dressed then?"

"Do you want me to undress?" he asks.

"Is that a trick question?" I answer his question with one of my own.

"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not."

I sigh dramatically, irritated by his response. He releases my hair and steps to the side of me, his
hand still fingering me from behind, his other playing with my clit now in the front. My knees
weaken, but I stay standing. I grab onto his shirt with one hand.

"David," I say.

"Yes," he responds.

His fingers move faster, my pleasure drawing in tighter with each pass. I bite my lip and close my
eyes.

"What are you doing to me?" I ask, my voice hesitant and breathy.

"Honestly?" he asks.

"Yes," I breathe, my fingers gripping tightly to his shirt as he pushes me higher.

"The local will wear off soon," he says. "You're going to need painkillers. I don't want you to think
I took advantage of you because you were doped up on vicodin. I want to claim you before I drug
you. Essentially."

I smile and shake my head a little.

"You don't consider me already claimed?" I ask, remembering everything we've done so far.

"Not enough," he says quietly.

"What's enough?" I ask, my legs shaking as he keeps pushing me closer to the edge.

"I don't know," he responds. "I'm not entirely certain there is such a thing. Not with you."

"David," I clench my teeth, so close now.

"What is it, princess?" he says, his lips close to my ear again.

"I'm gonna come," I whisper.

"Are you?" he asks

I nod my head a little.

"Yes," I breathe.

"Come then," he says.

"You won't let me fall?" I ask.

"No, princess," he says, chuckling.

"Will you kiss me?" I ask, greedy now.

I turn my head and look at him. His smile is wicked and sinister. I love it. I lift my head as his
mouth takes mine, the contact sending a rush through me. He presses harder on my clit, forces his
fingers into me faster. I moan and he swallows it, the sound muffled to my ears.

My legs shake harder, uncontrollably. The tension spikes and my orgasm rolls through me in waves
as I groan into his mouth. Fucking hell but he's amazing. Oh my god... I can't. Don't do it. Please
don't fall for him. It can be just sex. It has to be just sex. You're not prepared for this man to make
you feel things. You're just not.

My body spasms, my knees failing me as David continues stroking my clit, but moves his other
hand in time to catch me. I press my needy, achy cunt into his fingers where they press against me,
ratcheting up my orgasm and drawing it out.

Don't say it. Don't you dare tell him. Maybe it's a side effect of all the orgasms. You don't love
him. It's nothing. You just met him.

"Thank you," I say weakly when my body stops shaking.

"You're welcome," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"You're not laughing at me are you?" I ask, breathing hard.

"No," he says. "I think you're adorable. Thanking me. Like I gave you a gift. It's cute."

"Didn't you?" I ask, turning to lean into his chest instead of the sideways hold I've had on him. His
arms come around me.

"If I did, then you gave me one too," he says.

"Ummm, what?" I say, confused. Post-orgasmic brain not withstanding, I don't understand.

"It's intense, making you come," he says. "The sounds you make, your trust, feeling you clench
around me as your body spasms. It's a gift."

"Can I tell you a secret?" I whisper, unsure if I really want to do this, but committing to it out loud.

"Yes," he says, bending down to pick me up. My arms lift to go around his neck as he walks us
over to the corner where he operated on me.

"You're the only guy that's ever made me come," I say quietly.

"That is a tragedy," he says. "But I have to admit, I don't hate knowing it."

"Can I tell you something else?" I say.

"Of course," he responds.

"People are dying right now," I say, my voice very small. "And I'm... I'm happy. What does that
mean? Am I a terrible person?"
Audio available at https://anchor.fm/xanjel69/episodes/SpecOps---Tanks-Trials-by-
SabrinaMSexton---Chapter-7-egf6ma
 Tank/David

"It doesn't mean anything," I say. "It's okay to be happy. I guess a better question would be why
you're happy."

That was pretty chill. I didn't out-and-out ask if she was happy because of me. If I'm the reason. Do
I even want to be? I shouldn't care. That's a complication I don't need. So why'd I tell her all that
stuff about my name? I don't have time for any of this. I need to get an update from my team and
focus on the protest. Instead, I listen for her response.

"It's... a lot of stuff I guess," she says. "I've never actually cared about anything in my entire life. I
mean, I love my family, but that love has never been tested. I've never had anything that I fought
for or felt was important enough to fight for. As embarrassing as it sounds, I'm a pretty basic,
middle-class college student. There's nothing special about me or important. I'm not particularly
good at anything. I've never had a passion that I put all my energy into. I'm kind of boring really."

"Okay...," I say. I stay silent, wondering if there's more.

"But I'm here now, doing something important that I believe in," she says. "And that's a completely
new experience for me. Caring about anything enough to fight for it. And I mean... I got shot. I
didn't run home when it turned into a war. I stayed. I didn't let fear stop me from doing what was
right. And I'm glad. I've seen so much horror this week. Horrible things that will probably haunt
me for years. But I've seen just as many, if not more, that were inspiring and beautiful. Of people
coming together, helping each other, working together. It may have single-handedly renewed my
faith in humanity."

I set her down in the corner and grab the boxer shorts and the extra t-shirt I brought for her. So it's
not me. I'm not the reason she's happy. Okay. No. Fuck that. I want to be the reason she's happy.
Or at least part of it. I won't say I bared my soul, but I gave her a glimpse of it. It stings a bit that I
don't matter at all.

"Let's get you dressed," I say.

I want to say more, but I don't know where I would start or how I feel. How could I possibly
explain it to her if I don't even understand it? I squat down, hold out the boxers and open the
waistband so she can step inside them. That's what I get I guess. She's too young. This is all just a
wild adventure for her and I'm over here all up in my feels.
She steps into the underwear and I slide them up her legs, ignoring the goosebumps that pop up on
her thighs as I move my hands up her body. When I reach her hips, she grabs the material, folding
the waistband down a few times so it would stay in place. I swallow, looking at her navel and find
myself angry. Furious, in fact. Because all I can think about is leaning forward and kissing her
stomach.

"David," she says, her voice soft and compelling.

"What?" I ask. I look down at the floor. Away. Afraid she will see in my face what I'm thinking or
feeling.

"There are other reasons why I'm happy too," she says.

I want to look at her, but I don't. I stare at a crack in the floor. I want to speak, but I don't do that
either. I feel like a coward, but I don't know how to reconcile it. I don't know what I'm supposed to
do.

I hear her take a breath. See her hands trembling from my peripheral vision. My pulse quickens and
I wonder if we are both nervous. I shake myself mentally. I can't be nervous. I don't get nervous. I
ignore the urge to grab her hands. To calm her nerves and maybe mine, which I refuse to admit are
even on edge.

"I..."

She stops, as if she's unsure or scared. Just wait. Give her time to figure out her feelings. You don't
even know how you feel. Maybe she doesn't either.

For all my good intentions, I am a bastard. I don't even have a chance to think about what I'm going
to do before I've done it. I reach out to her and grab her by the neck, pulling her into my arms and
kissing her. Hard. Passionately. The way I've been aching to. For once, I don't hold anything back. I
give it all to her with this kiss. All my passion. All my darkness. I bite and control and force her to
feel what I'm feeling right now. The anger. The indecision. The hope. The despair.

She moans into my mouth and the sound is no less intoxicating as the other times. It's not enough. I
want to make her scream my name. I want to be her entire world. Her only care. Not forever. But
for a little while. For a little while, I want to be the ONLY reason she's happy. I want to be her
ONLY passion. I want to be the reason she feels special and make her feel like she's my world.
And therein lies the problem. She can't be my world. The world is my world. It has to be. My
mission is too important. And if she can't be my world... then expecting me to be hers, even for a
little while, is wrong. Wanting to be the reason she wakes up is wrong. Wanting to be anything to
her... is wrong.

This just makes me angrier. I tear my lips away from hers, both of us breathing hard. I expect to see
recrimination in her eyes when I look up but there is only passion. Her lips are swollen and bruised
from my kiss, plump and reddened from my teeth. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest heaving as she
struggles to catch her breath. I've never seen anything sexier.

"I have to go," I say abruptly, pushing the T-shirt into her hands. "I'll be back. Don't be afraid. No
one will come here. It's protected."

"David, wait, please," she says as I turn away.

I ignore her. I hate it. I hate myself for it.

"Just wait here," I say, striding across the room. "I'll be back with medicine and supplies."

That's a reasonable excuse I guess. Not really. Not after the way I kissed her. I shut the door behind
me and punch the concrete wall. It hurts and I don't care. I punch it again, my knuckles bruising
instantly and bleeding from little cuts. I shake my hand and walk away. This is a fucking disaster.

What am I doing? I don't even know anymore. I've spent a grand total of three hours with this girl
and I don't know anything about anything. I've operated on her. Fucked her. God, that was good.
And now I've abandoned her because my head is all fucked up.

Not really abandoned. I'm going to go back. I just need some space. I need to clear my head and
figure out what I'm doing. I need a plan. Which means I need an objective. What's the fucking
objective David? Her? Christ, I don't know.

I head for the row of vans where our team is headquartered. It's mobile and better for us if we need
to get away quickly. The second van has medical supplies. I pull out a ring of keys, unlock the back
and climb in. I grab a bag and begin putting supplies in it. I need to be able to change her dressings
and she'll need painkillers.
So I'm staying with her. When did I decide that? Have I decided? I keep throwing things in the bag,
my actions answering the question even if I don't admit it. This is ridiculous. Okay so... yeah. I
guess she's the fucking objective. I like her. Maybe a lot. Which is crazy since I've only just met
her.

I open the door to the van and hop down, closing it behind me. The fourth van has food and water.
I grab a variety of things having no idea what she might like, candy bars, trail mix, a couple of
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a bag of chips, a couple apples. I deliberately try not to think of
the taste of apple on her lips. I fail.

With a shake of my head, I hit the last van, grabbing an air mattress, a pump, a package of baby
wipes, a blanket and some more clothes. I throw everything in the duffel. I look at the guns next to
the back driver's seat and finally decide on a nine milometer Beretta. I shouldn't need it, but I'd
rather be safe than sorry. A quick check confirms it's loaded. I grab a few extra clips and toss it all
in the bag with the other supplies.

Okay, so if she's the objective, what's my plan of attack? I need something for us to do. I grab an
iPad and a deck of cards. That's about the dumbest, cheesiest shit I've ever heard, but since I have
no idea what I'm doing and limited options, I decide to roll with it. I pull out the burner cell I've
been using and dial Simmons as I exit the vehicle and close the door. We hacked the towers and set
up our own network so it's fairly secure, but you can never be too sure.

"Alpha Bravo Six Zulu One Seven," I say when he picks up. This is my personalized
communication code for the day. It's randomly generated by one of Simmons computers and
regenerates at midnight. There's another code for duress. And a third for immediate back-up and
scrub of all devices.

"Hey man," he says. "What's up?"

"I'm going off mission," I say. "Tell my brother I'm fine and I'll check back in two days. Call the
burner if there's an emergency."

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, mostly," I respond. "Just gotta handle some stuff. I'm in fallback location two. Mark it off
limits. There's a civilian."
"Your timing sucks," he says.

"No shit," I say. "Believe me, I know."

"Your brother is going to want to know where you are," he says.

"Well don't tell him," I say.

"You don't think he'll figure it out?" Simmons asks.

"Fine," I say. "Have him call the burner when he gets back from the front lines."

"Will do," he says. "Be careful. You know how much they'd love to get their hands on us. Make
sure you vet her."

I roll my eyes. I'd done that already. Her records are clean. Bank statements. Credit cards.
Everything.

"Already done," I say. "I gotta go."

"Expect us," he says, the line going dead immediately after. He always ends the calls that way. I
think it's creepy but Simmons is an odd duck. Genius with a laptop, but odd.

I walk over to the door to the stairwell and unlock it. When I open the door, I'm immediately struck
by the sound. Y/N is talking, but to whom?

"Idiot. You should have just told him."

"Yeah, that would have gone over well. Excuse me mister SpecOps sir, David. I know we just met
and all but I really like you and I know we're in the middle of something very important, but I was
wondering if you'd like to run away to a deserted island. Obviously, we can't actually go, but if we
weren't busy trying to save the world, is that something you would have been inclined to do?
Because I think I am so inclined."

"God, I'm ridiculous. A deserted island. Why not the moon? Dear David, I'm over the moon for
you. Wanna meet me there?"

"This is why you don't have a boyfriend. It was just sex. Stop acting like it was anything else. He's
a stranger. You don't know him. So you had sex. Big deal. Really good sex. Like... really good sex.
You can't turn into a stage four clinger. Did I mention the really good sex?"

I try not to smile, but it overtakes me anyway as I listen to her talk to herself. Talk to herself about
me. Maybe I am at least one of things making her happy right now. My anger from earlier
vanishes.

"I thought it was really good sex too," I say, startling her. "I don't know if I can hack a shuttle to get
to the moon or not, but I'm down for the deserted island. Or inclined rather, as you said."

She looks up and instantly begins to blush. It's too cute.

"Oh my god," she whines, hiding her face in her hands. She's sitting cross-legged on the floor. I
close the door and walk over, setting the bag of supplies down. "Just kill me."

"Relax," I say, squatting down. "It was cute."

"Um, no," she says. "I... I'm so embarrassed."

"Do you want know a secret?" I ask.

"Sure," she says, looking up at me.

I splay the fingers on my right hand, showing her my knuckles and their scrapes.

"I may or may not have punched the wall because I wasn't sure you actually liked me," I say.
She reaches out for my hand and looks at it, then back at me.

"But... but I had sex with you," she says. "Of course I like you."

"There are levels of like," I say. I swallow. Is this part of my plan of action? Honesty? Maybe. "I
am not fully prepared for any of this and I have no idea what I'm doing. I just want you."

She swallows, her pulse fluttering in her neck.

"I want you too," she says.

"Even after the way I kissed you?" I ask, voicing one of my many fears.

"Because of the way you kissed me," she says. "Amongst other things."

"It wasn't too rough?" I ask, staring into her eyes, trying to read the truth in them.

"David," she says, smiling. "I told you, you won't hurt me. That didn't hurt. Sitting here for the last
twenty minutes all hot and horny, thinking I did or said something wrong hurt a little though."

"I'm sorry," I say, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear. "I ... shit, I don't know what to say.
I'm a jerk. I'm sorry."

"I guess you'll have to make it up to me," she says, smiling.

"Tell me how," I say.

"Let me doctor your stupid hand and where ever they shot you, you big dummy," she says,
smacking my shoulder.
"That's not at all what I had in mind," I respond.

"If you're a good boy and sit very still, I'll give you a treat when I get done," she says.

"What kind of treat?" I ask.

She shrugs nonchalantly.

"Guess you'll have to be good and find out," she says, glancing down at her fingernails before
buffing them on the front of her shirt.

"I don't think I've ever been good," I say softly.

"You've been good to me, David," she says, flipping the mood from teasing to serious. "Please let
me look at your gunshot. For my own piece of mind if nothing else.
 Y/N

"Are you always this annoying?" he asks, his lips curving in a smile that belies his words.

I smirk at him, and carefully push myself up. My leg is starting to get sore. It throbs a little, but I
ignore it for now, more focused on him.

"No," I say, deadpan. "Sometimes I'm worse."

He shakes his head, but smiles at me.

"I don't know if I can handle worse," he says. "I'm already traumatized."

"Boo-hoo," I whine. "However will you manage?"

I roll my eyes, looking down at the supplies he had used for my leg earlier as well as the new bag
he brought back. Inside the bag is a deck of cards. I pull it out and hold it up.

"For the record," I say, "I'm not playing strip poker. I only have two pieces of clothing."

"In an hour you won't even have that," he says sitting down on the floor next to the supplies.

"You're pretty sure of yourself," I respond, warming to the banter. "You're not irresistible you
know."

I could resist him if I wanted to. I mean... I don't want to. But I could. I totally could. Yeah... sure.

"It depends on how much I want something," he says. "If I really want it, I get it."

I shake my head, chuckling.

"You're lucky you're hot," I say. "That would sound creepy from just about anyone else."

He pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing his chest and abs, his arms and broad athletic
shoulders. I suck in a breath and swallow hard. He looks at me raising an eyebrow.

"That only serves to prove my point," I say, my voice meek as my eyes are drawn to the v that dips
beneath his sweatpants.

"I could have you right now," he says. "Tell me I couldn't."

"You couldn't," I respond easily.

"Liar," he says.

"Nope," I say. "Until I look at where they shot you and cleanse your hand, your dicks's in timeout."

"Challenge accepted," he says, his eyes twinkling when I look back up at him.

"No," I say, crossing my arms across my chest. "No games. No challenges. Just let me doctor on
you and then you can have whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" he asks.

I roll my eyes.

"Yes," I say. "Fine. Whatever you want."

He says nothing. Instead, he turns, giving me a look at the back of his shoulder. He's right. The
bullet had just grazed him, but there are little fibers from his shirt in it now. A line of dried blood
snakes halfway down his back. He has the most beautiful back I've ever seen. I want to trace the
muscles with my fingertips. Or my tongue.
Instead, I turn to the supplies and pick up the hydrogen peroxide and a gauze pad, I open the bottle
and place the gauze pad under the wound, pouring a small amount onto his skin. It bubbles and
runs down into the gauze. I wait a moment and then wipe away from the wound, cleaning the dried
blood. I repeat the process several times before taking a pair of tweezers and pulling the bits of
fabric out. I cleanse it one more time and bandage it with antibiotic ointment.

I try to maintain a detached clinical aire, but I cannot fight the urge to lay a kiss on his shoulder
next to the bandage, my teeth grazing the skin before my tongue licks it softly and I pull away.
This is the first time I've seen any part of him naked besides his dick. It's enough to turn my knees
to jelly.

"Cheater," he says, his voice a growly whisper that seems to go straight to my clit.

I step around him back to my corner and he turns, holding his hand out to help me sit. He's the
strangest combination of traits. A firey man-god who fucks like a demon. A well-mannered
gentleman, chivalrous and kind. A compassionate and caring humanitarian and activist. There are
so many facets to his personality.

He helps me sit, but I still wince, my leg starting to throb. His eyes dart to my face before I can
hide it.

"No," I say, raising a finger before he can protest. "I know. I need medicine. It can wait until I
finish your hand. Then you can drug me."

"But..."

"David, I mean it," I say. "We already agreed. I'm not going to die. It won't take long."

He huffs.

"And maybe next time you'll re-consider before punching a harmless, helpless wall," I say. "If I'm
going to doctor on your hand, I'd rather do it after you punch a racist nazi or an asshole cop."

"That wall was asking for it," he says.

I raise an eyebrow at him, but can't fight the grin stealing across my features.

"Stop being so charming," I say. "You'll have me doodling little hearts in my diary and
daydreaming like a pre-teen."

"Oooh," he says. "A diary. This sounds juicy. What would you write about me in your diary?"

I smack his shoulder.

"I'm not going to tell you that," I respond.

"Come on," he says. "I'll tell you what I'd write in mine."

"Oh my god," I exclaim. "You're ridiculous. You do not have a diary."

"Well, duh," he says, flexing his arms in a pose that despite my best intentions sends my heart
racing. "I'm a big, strong, manly, man... We don't have diaries. I do, however, have a very
respectable journal."

"Fine," I say, smiling as I roll my eyes. "What would you write in your oh so respectable journal."

I grab his hand and flatten the fingers. I deliberately don't meet his eyes as I pour the peroxide on
his knuckles and dab at it with a piece of gauze.

"June tenth, twenty-twenty," he says, his voice quiet. Almost shy. "I met her. Life will never be the
same."

I swallow hard, but refuse to meet his eyes. I'm afraid of what he'll see in mine. Not a lack of an
emotion, but rather too much. This scares me. I've never felt like this before and it's fucking
terrifying. Because I know, deadass, that he's going to break my heart. And even knowing it, I can't
seem to stop.
"Dear Diary," I whisper, focusing all my attention on his hand. "I am his."

My eyes well with tears, and I don't know why. There's absolutely no reason to cry. Maybe it's
feeling so very vulnerable. He could shatter me if he wanted. With a word or a careless thought.
And I don't care. I mean I do. But not enough to leave up any walls of protection. No. I've
apparently decided to just throw open my heart to a conquering army.

I reach down for the antibiotic ointment, still not meeting his eyes. My fingers close around it as
his other hand lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. The tear leaks out and he catches it on his
finger, rubbing it into my cheek.

"It's so bad, being mine?" he asks, his voice sounding strange. "That you cry?"

I shake my head, pulling away from him a little. The eye contact is too intimate. With my emotions
so raw, I can't take it. I twist the little cap on the ointment and squeeze a small amount onto my
finger tip. I re-cap the tube and drop it into the supplies. My voice cracks as I begin to rub it into
his knuckles.

"I-I'm afraid," I say simply, honestly. "I've never felt like this before."

"Me either, princess," he says, ignoring my ministrations and leaning forward to kiss me. It's a soft
kiss. Not like the others. It's tender and almost reverant. Just a small brush of his lips against mine.
I expect him to deepen it, but he doesn't. He pulls away, and his fingers fall away from me as he
turns.

He reaches into the bag for the painkillers and what I assume is an antibiotic. He also pulls out a
bottle of water. The pills rattle in the small, orange, plastic bottles as he shakes one out from each.

"Here," he says. "You promised."

I give him a watery smile, taking the pills.

"You make it sound like you had to talk me into taking them," I say. I put the pills in my mouth and
take the bottle of water from his hands. I swallow them and gulp greedily from the bottle. I hadn't
realized how thirsty I was.
"You need to eat something," he says. "I don't want you to get an upset stomach. I recommend
something with some fiber. Either an apple or the trail mix."

"Apple," I say.

He hands it to me and stands, his naked chest towering over me, his dick in my face, even covered
as it was by the sweat pants. I reach out and run a finger along it. He's not even hard and it's so big.

"Badness," he says. "Give me a minute. I need to set up the bed and get some things ready."

I bite into the apple, hearing it crunch as I watch him. I think I love watching him do things
shirtless. Anything. Watching his arms and chest and back. His abs. His body is power made fluid.
Strong and sexy. Graceful.

It only takes a few minutes for him to have everything set up. Our little stairwell has become a
camp site, tidy and cute. There are even blow up pillows for the air mattress.

"Come here," he says, holding out a hand to me. He's knealing on the floor with a package of baby
wipes.

I take two steps and come to stop in front of him. We are eye to eye with him on his knees. He lifts
the bottom of the shirt as I raise my hands over my head. His eyes darken as he looks at me and I
love it. I love that look in his eyes. He makes the universal turn around sign with his finger and I
comply.

I hear the rustle of the package as he takes a wipe and starting at my neck begins to wash my skin.
He takes his time, washing my entire back, following along behind it with bitey little kisses that
have me wet and aching in seconds. There is nothing quite like the feel of his lips trailing down my
spine.

I hadn't lied. I'm so completely his. In this moment and all the others, he owns me. With every
touch, every breath against my skin, I feel more and more be-spelled. He is unrushed, enjoying the
sounds he draws from my throat.
He lowers the boxers on my hips, exposing the curve at the small of my back and the top of my
ass. When his teeth close on a small patch of skin at the base of my spine, I am gone. I can never
come back from this. Not ever. It's the most delicious sensation I've ever experienced. My pussy
clenches and I moan, digging my fingernails into my palms.

I had promised him I'd let him do whatever he wanted, but I can't take it. It's too much. Too
intense. Too sweet. Too sexy.

"David," I breathe out his name, my voice deep and husky.

"Soon," he says, his lips moving against the small of my back, sending a shiver up my spine.

"We have to wash away any trace of the teargas before we go to sleep or... well... it would kinda
suck, for you especially," he says.

I bend down and grab several wipes, stepping away from him and his delicious mouth to quickly
wash my arms and legs with the wipes. A wide grin spreads across his mouth.

"What?" I say, my voice dripping with mock innocence. "I'm helping."

"Mmm," he murmurs in acknowledgement. "Yes, I see that."

I grab a couple more and throw them at him.

"You waiting for an engraved invitation or what?" I ask as he catches the wipes.

"So mouthy," he says. "And now you're throwing things. You're going to pay for that."

"Oh?" I respond, bending down to grab another wipe for my face. "How exactly?"

"You'll see," he says, washing his arms with infinitesmal slowness.

How... the fuck... is he soooooooo controlled?

The ache in me has reached damn near desperate proportions. I slip the boxers off, letting them
slide to the floor as I turn away. I'm not sure why, but somehow, it's easier to wash my vagina
when he can only see my ass. I pick up the other wipes I had used and walk bare ass naked across
the floor to the trash can.

I walk slowly, taking small steps and letting my ass swing with each step. This is mostly to hide
my slight limp. My leg is really throbbing now, but it will be better soon. The painkillers will take
effect and then I'm very likely to pass out. I want him inside me before then.

I drop the wipes into the trash and turn, letting out a little yelp of surprise to see David right behind
me, his eyes almost black with desire. He picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist as his
mouth crashes into mine.

This is not soft or sweet or reverant. This is primal. And exactly what I want. My arms move
around his neck, the fingers of one hand sliding through his hair, pressing him closer as I angle my
mouth to give him deeper access to everything.

He walks us back across the floor and I feed at his mouth, biting his lip, my tongue dancing with
his. I let out a throaty groan, grinding against his cock. I realize then that he is naked. Gloriously
naked. I hadn't heard him move. Hadn't heard him undress.

"Oh god, David," I say, the words, spilling into his mouth, the sound of them muffled.

He bends down and tosses me onto the makeshift bed, the abrupt movement shocking me. The air
leaves my lungs in a woosh before he drops onto the bed beside me and pulls me back into his
arms. God, I love the way he kisses me. It's so fucking good. So absolutely perfect.

I reach for his chest, desperate to touch all the places he's been denying me. He grabs my hands
and lifts them above my head, holding them in place with one hand and I groan, my teeth clenched.
He still won't let me touch him and I want to. I need it. He holds me captive, unable to move or
touch and it's infuriating. But also hot. Like max level hot.

He reaches between my legs with his other hand, spreading them forcefully apart and I realize
something. He's different. Raw and unfiltered. It feels like maybe I'm seeing more of him than
before. I love this side of him. This dark, aggressive side that makea my girl parts go 'mmmm'. He
slides his fingers inside me and I stop thinking.

My back arches and I'm lost. Lost in the way he tastes and smells and feels. His fingers slip in and
out, stretching me where I'm still swollen and sore from the last time he fucked me. His
movements are sharp. Aggressive. Almost painful, but not quite. Just when I start to think it hurts,
it becomes something else or he moves.

My moans are guttural and animalistic. Not his. David growls, the sound reverberating through my
body like an ancient mating call. I love it.

"Fuck me, David," I say, tearing my mouth away from his long enough to beg. "Please."

He reaches under the pillow and grabs a condom. He had apparently put it there when he was
arranging everything. I hadn't noticed. He releases my wrists and looks at me, his gaze sharp and
uncompromising.

"Don't move," he says.

It only takes seconds for him to slip on the condom. I look at him as he rolls me beneath him.

"Tell me if I hurt you," he says, capturing my hands once again. "Promise me."

I shake my head, but agree. "Yes, please. Just do it. Fuck me. I need you."

I watch as David slides slowly into me, sheathing his cock in my tight, achy pussy. It hurts. It hurts
so good. You couldn't pay me a million dollars to stop him.

My fingers try to squeeze onto something. Anything. But there's nothing to grasp. It's too much.
And nowhere near enough.

He pulls out slowly and slams back into me, kissing my mouth and biting at my lips. I lift my hips,
urging him faster, increasing the speed. His other hand comes to rest at my neck and I know what I
want. What I've wanted since the first time I felt his hand on my throat. I wonder if maybe he hasn't
wanted it too.
"Choke me, David," I moan.

"That's what you want?" he says, his voice hard and unforgiving. It's powerful and intimidating.
"You want to be my little slut? Let me choke you until we both come?"

"Fuck," I say, my voice cracking as his words spill over me in a wash of desire. My pussy creams
at the idea. At him calling me his slut. "Yes. God, yes."

His fingers tighten around my throat and then, his eyes burning into me like a lazer. It isn't long
beforw my body screams for air. His fingers tighten on the sides of my neck and the edges of my
vision go dark. It's terrifying, but I trust him. I can't explain why.

"You like it don't you?" he asks, releasing the pressure.

My body sparks, like every single cell just activated at once. I nod, my body on fire where his cock
pushes into me, the sensations so raw and encompassing I think I might die.

"Say it," he says, squeezing again. This time he focuses on the sides of my throat, and my vision
goes dark again. I realize what he's doing. He's cutting off the bloodflow. My world darkens, the
black at the edges growing larger as my awareness shrinks. "Tell me how much you love my cock
inside you."

He relaxes the fingers around my throat and a rush of euphoria washes over me. Dear jesus lord,
this is good. His dick is pounding me so hard now. So fucking good. I bite my bottom lip, my
pussy drenching us both as I squirt for the first time. Ever.

"God, David," I say, my voice breathless and throaty. "I fucking love your dick. It's the most
perfect penis."

"If I let go of your hands, can you keep them there?" he asks. "Will you be good?"

"Yes," I say.
He pulls out of me and flips me over onto my stomach before I can even register what's happening.
My body shivers at being so easily thrown around, registers the power and strength. It's so hot. He
lifts my thighs, pushing forward so the lower half of my body is on my knees, but my cheek is
pressed flat to the mattress, my hands still clasped together above my head.

He pushes into me, the new angle going deeper and I cry out at the sensation of being so full of
cock I might actually die. When he pushes a finger into my asshole, wet from my juices, my eyes
roll back into my head.

I hadn't thought I was that close to coming, but it's instaneous. I scream, my orgasm hitting me like
a ton of bricks. I push my body back against him forcing him deeper inside me, his finger too as the
waves of convulsions spill out.

"One day," he says, thrusting hard, "I'm going to put my dick in here."

The words stretch out my orgasm, tightening things low in my body that I hadn't known existed.

"Yes, David," I say, my pleasure unabashed. "I'm yours. All of me."

He thrusts hard and deep, his own orgasm coming on the tail of mine.

"Fucking hell," he says, thrusting again. He's so deep inside me I can feel him in my stomach.
"Take it."

Thrust.

"Every."

Thrust.

"Last."

Thrust.
"Drop."

He pulls his finger out of my ass and collapses on top of me, rolling just a little so he doesn't crush
me.

"Told you, you'd be naked in an hour." he says, his voice containing the barest hint of a smile.
 Tank/David

It takes me a minute to recover. When I can move, I pull my dick out of her, enjoying the little
moan she makes. I put my sweat pants on and dispose of the condom. As I walk back to the air
mattress, I snag a sandwich from the bag and another bottle of water.

I very carefully ignore what just happened. I am not going to think about it now. Not going to
consider that it was the first time I've ever felt truly free. I had thought after Amanda, that I'd
stopped hiding from myself, but this was different. And I don't have time to examine it or figure out
what any of it means.

"I... um... I'm laying in a puddle," Y/N says, her cheeks flushed in what appears to be
embarassment.

I chuckle.

"Yeah," I say. "That was hot."

She scrunches up her face.

"Well now it's cold...," she says.

I set down the sandwich and the bottle of water and grab the t-shirt she'd been wearing from the
floor.

"Move the covers and gimme your hand," I say.

I pull her to her feet and lean her against the wall.

"Arms up," I say, dropping to my knees in front of her. I lift the shirt over her head and help her put
it on. The painkiller has started to work and I don't want her to fall trying to get dressed. Her arms
come to rest on my shoulders.
"David," she says. "You're sure this isn't a dream? It feels like a dream."

I smile. She's so cute. Her words aren't slurred but they're a little slower. I realize that I don't mind
taking care of her. That her helplessness pings something inside me. That I want to care for her and
treasure her and show her how precious she is.

"If this is what your dreams feel like, then I need to dream more," I say.

I kiss her softly, my hand cupping her face. She kisses me back, her lips parting and tongue teasing
at the corner of my mouth. It's tender and precious in a way I can't explain.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask when our lips part.

"No," she says, laughing. "Not even a little. It was incredible."

"I didn't scare you?" I ask.

She giggles, her head falling against my shoulder.

"I mean... a little," she responds. "But it was in a good way. I loved it. Everything about the whole
thing."

"I'm not...," I begin. "I'm not usually like that."

"I liked it," she says, lifting her head to meet my eyes. "Be that way whenever you need. Or want. I
haven't seen anything about you I don't like David."

"Same," I say, kissing her on the nose. "Are you okay here? I need a second to clean up the mess."

"Yeah," she says. "I'm fine. Better than fine."

I sop up her girl goo with my shirt and try not to let my pride swell too much. The mental image of
her walking naked across the floor to throw away the wipes she'd used to clean herself fleets
through my mind. I'd followed her, knowing she'd taste like apples when I kissed her, possessed by
the desire to... I don't even know. When I can't easily identify my motivation, I push the thought
away.

With the mattress dried, I toss my shirt to the side and pull the blanket back into place.

I turn back to where she's leaning against the wall and take a moment, to just look at her, head
resting against the wall, dressed in my t-shirt. I want her. I want to keep her forever. That's what
I've realized. I have no idea how to make it work, but that is the objective. Past this protest. I want
her. She makes me feel... something... and I want to keep feeling it. I take her hand, pulling her
away from the wall and laying her carefully onto the bed.

"Are you thirsty?" I ask, opening the water bottle. I take a swig. "Or hungry?"

She shakes her head, turning onto her side.

"No, just sleepy," she says.

I pull the covers in around her shoulders and watch her as I eat the sandwich. It seems like I've
known her forever. And yet, we literally just met. Today. I've never bought into the love at first
sight bullshit. But what about love at first bullet extraction? My mind throws this out and I realize
that I'm using the word love without even realizing it. Do I love her? Is that even possible? I barely
know her. And yet, our connection... it's more than any chick I've ever known.

I sit cross-legged on the floor and turn on the iPad. It's already patched into the network we set up
last week so I run my usual list of scans and safety measures. When that finishes, just because I
know that Devon is going to ask, I run a scan of Y/N. Her social media. Her bank accounts. Credit
cards. Everything. It's intrusive and I hate it. I feel like an ass for doing it, but we've been
infiltrated before. That's how they got to us the last time. There's nothing of course. I knew there
wouldn't be, but I'm not in a position where I can risk it.

I log in to an encrypted server and scan the message board, checking for news from the protests in
other cities. We're seeing the same thing in cities all across the US. The use of live ammunition
was originally authorized here in DC. It was part of the president's efforts to show the rest of the
country how to dominate the streets. As a result, he lost what little republican support he had left.
None of the governors were willing to slaughter their own people just because the president said it
was okay. So he sent the military.
The military response has been brutal in every major city. But there's starting to be push-back.
Videos of the dead, rivers of blood in the streets. The general public has seen images like that from
other countries, but not here. They used jammers in every city, but we figured they would. The
drones made a huge impact. It's been the real turning point. As millions of Americans call on their
representatives to stop the president, individual military personnel and in some places, entire units
have gone AWOL to join the fight for BLM.

The burner phone vibrates with an incoming call. I'm sure it's Devon, but I follow the protocols
anyway. I swipe the screen and hold it up to my ear.

"Seven red balloons," I say.

"Eleven black umbrellas," Devon says. "I'm at the door. Simmons said you blacklisted this as a
fallback location. What's going on? Are you okay?"

Fucking Simmons. He could have at least warned me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I respond, whispering so as not to wake Y/N. "Hold on. I'll be out in a sec."

I lock the screen of the iPad, grab my keys and put on sneakers. My shirt is still covered in girl goo,
but it's the only one I have that hasn't been exposed to tear gas so I put it on. I glance at Y/N to
make sure she's sleeping soundly and walk carefully across the floor. The door squeaks as I open it,
but she doesn't stir. Gotta love a drugged sleep.

My brother walks up and looks me up and down as if I've sprouted additional body parts.

"What's going on?" he asks, dispensing with the small talk. "Simmons said you were holed up here
and going off mission for forty-eight plus hours."

"One of the protesters got shot," I respond. "I brought her back here and am staying with her for a
few days while she recovers."

Devon narrows his eyes, observing far more than I'd like.
"Cut the shit," he says.

I take a deep breath, sorting through all the boxes on the back shelf in my brain for anything that
will make this make sense for my brother. There's nothing. This is crazy. Knowing it's crazy
doesn't change anything. If anything it substantiates it.

"I think I'm in love with her," I say finally.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Devon asks. He leans in close, whispering. "We're on a
mission. She's a civilian. Dammit David, we're basically spies. Literally the covert part of covert
operations."

"I know," I say, speaking through clenched teeth. "You think I don't realize how inconvenient this
is? How stupid it is? It's not like I set out to fucking fall for her."

"It's only been four hours," he says. "There isn't anything that can be done in four hours that can't
be undone."

My fists clench, reflexively.

"Don't push me on this," I say, my voice low, quiet.

"Okay, fine," he says. "You care about her. But what are you going to DO with her? You can't
bring her with us. She's a liability. She puts the whole team at risk. And even if you could, would
you really want to force her to leave her whole life behind? She'd never be able to go back, David.
Not to mention how much danger you're putting her in. According to the government, WE ARE
TERRORISTS. They would charge us with treason and kill us - assuming they bothered to charge
us in the first place and didn't just kill us outright. Is that what you want for her? If you continue
this, she'll be a part of it, even if only as an accessory. IF you love her, and I put a strong emphasis
on IF, seeing as how you just met four hours ago... You have to let her go."

I shake my head. He's right. I know he is.

"I can't, Devon," I say, looking away. Right or not, I can't do it. "I'll figure something out. But I'm
not leaving her."

"You are a selfish son of a bitch, you know that?" he spits out. "Neither of us have seen mom for
years now. Hell we may never see her again. Yet somehow getting your dick wet led to the
potential destruction of everything we've been working on."

My fist draws back and collides with his jaw before I realize what I'm doing. Devon holds up his
hands and I realize that I hit him. I haven't hit him since we were kids.

"Okay," he says, reaching up to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. "You're right. That
was a cheap shot. I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what you're going to do, David. I'm worried about
you. This bitch..."

I clear my throat, shaking my hand out.

"Excuse me, this chick, I meant to say," he says. "She's in your head. That's dangerous. I don't want
to see something happen to you because you got sloppy. You're my brother."

"That's why I need the two days," I say, feeling the fight leak out of me. "To figure out a plan. And
in lieu of that, just be with her, for as long as I can. It's not about getting my dick wet."

"You smell like sex," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "You really expect me to believe
you didn't fuck her?"

"No," I say. "I fucked her. I absolutely fucked her. But it was about more than fucking."

Devon shakes his head at me, as if he's disappointed.

"I hope you know what you're doing brother," he says. "Can I help? With anything?

"You could bring me some clothes," I say. "And some more food for tomorrow."

Devon sighs, as if the idea of supporting this venture is so completely foreign to him that he doesn't
know what to say or do.

"Okay," he responds. "I'll do that. Look, be careful, bro. I have a bad feeling about this."
 Y/N

I snuggle into David as his arm wraps around my waist. I want to talk or make out but the
painkillers are making my eyes so heavy. I heard him leave. Heard him come back. I figured he
was communicating with his team, possibly his brother. That he wouldn't be able to talk in front of
me. It didn't bother me.

David slides the other arm under my head and I feel engulfed. His body is so warm. Laying here
with him, my body feels heavy and slow. Lethargic. My mind does too. Thoughts come slowly,
dropping into my awareness like little birds before flying off again.

It's surreal being here with him. It's like a movie. Code words. Plots. Contingency plans.
Overthrowing governments. At least I'm finally taking a stance. It's better than being a bit player in
the movie of my own life. I don't know how I managed to go so many years without caring about
anything. That life feels far away. Meaningless television shows. TikTok videos. YouTube. I don't
know how I wasted so much time and energy on these things. Or how I will ever go back to them
when this is all over.

David kisses behind my ear, just the tiniest brush of his lips. I don't know how I'll go back to not
having THAT when this is all over. To not having HIM. People are always so quick to say 'it was
fate.' I feel that. I feel that in my bones. It is fate that my heart will be broken. Crushed into teeny
tiny pieces. We're from different worlds, he and I. They merged for a brief moment in time, but it
can't stay that way. I will lose him. It's inevitable.

"Mmmm," I moan, ignoring the inevitable and focusing on the here and now. That's what I want. I
want to pour myself into this time with him. I'll worry about where the pieces fall when he's gone.

"I like holding you this way," he murmurs, the words breathed against my skin, raising goose
bumps.

This mannnnnn... I can't handle him. Can't understand how I'm here with him. Not just with him,
but 'with him'. It feels like I won the lottery. He's so complex. Sweet and soft, tender. Hard,
aggressive, and unapologetic. Dangerous and intimidating. I can't, for the life of me, understand
what he sees in me.

When I look at him, I see someone who fights for justice. Who doesn't let the constraints of
morality or the system prevent him from trying to make things better. I see someone who is
intelligent and passionate. He's so sexy. So confident. And I'm just me.
"Me too," I say, my voice sounding drowsy to my own ears. "You make me feel safe and warm."

"Shhh," he says. "Try and get some sleep. Tomorrow we have to get you walking so the scar tissue
isn't too bad."

"There are other things you can do with my legs," I say shamelessly, no doubt because of the drugs.
"Other things are way more fun."

He chuckles.

"I'm sure we'll do some other things too," he says. "I can't imagine not doing other things to you
every chance I get."

"Mmmm," I murmur. "Other things never sounded so sexy."

"You're a goofball," he says, squeezing me around the middle. "Go to sleep."

"I don't think I can," I say. "I'm sleepy but not tired, if that makes any sense."

"I think I can help with that," he says. "Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach."

This is harder to do on an air mattress than one would assume but I eventually manage to get the
shirt off. I toss it to the side and roll onto my belly.

His fingertips caress my back with a soft, soothing touch. Random patterns and the odd bite of a
fingernail hypnotize me. It's not sexual per se. But sensual. Very sensual. My body slowly relaxes
and I wonder if he isn't hacking the electrical impulses in my brain. I become drowsy, but now
instead of trying to sleep, I find myself trying to stay awake. To keep feeling his touch. I drift off to
sleep wishing I could fall asleep this way every night.

****
I walk slowly up to the casket, ignoring the other people. The smell of flowers is thick in the air.
White roses. There are white roses everywhere. People huddle together, some crying. Others
lending comfort, wadded tissues held in their hands as they pat a shoulder here, rub someone's
back there.

There's a woman standing there, dressed in black, a hat pulled low over her eyes. I realize
eventually that it is my mother. I want to ask what she's doing here, but I think I know. I swallow,
my eyes closing as I turn to look inside the casket. I count to three and open my eyes.

I am dead. The body in the casket only slightly resembles me, but I know it's me. It looks like they
used a wig. Maybe my real hair was burnt. There are signs of burning and bruising around my face.
I look awful. So awful I can't understand why they didn't do a closed casket. My mother breaks
down, her sobs renewed. The sound clenches my gut. I turn to comfort her but my hands pass
through her. Which makes sense of course. I am dead after all.

I find myself backing away from the casket, horror washing over me as I realize that my life is
over. That I died without ever knowing love. That I died alone.

****

"Wake up," David says, shaking me. "It's okay. I'm here. I've got you. It was just a dream. You're
okay."

I turn in his arms and the all-encompassing loneliness of the dream pushes away. The desolation
and terror fall away. My hands reach beneath his shirt, finding the warm skin of his chest. I close
my eyes and breathe in his scent. Not cologne or deodorant. Him. He smells like man. And he's
here with me. In my arms.

I must have slept for awhile. My leg has started to throb so the painkiller must be wearing off. Not
completely. Not yet. It only hurts a little.

David grabs my hands and presses them against his chest so I can't move.

"Please, David," I whisper. "Let me touch you. You've touched me everywhere, all the way to my
soul. I want to feel you. Please let me touch you."
"I can't," he says softly.

"Why not?" I ask, my curiosity genuine.

His heart beat speeds beneath my palms, the steady, soothing rhythm increasing significantly.
Noticably.

"It's bad," he says. "You'll be mad."

"How bad?" I ask, holding my breath.

"Bad," he says, swallowing hard. His chest rises as he takes a deep breath. "I don't know how I'm
going to be able to forget you as it is. I don't want to lie awake at night and remember what your
hands feel like when you are gone. What your mouth feels like."

The words land against me like a slap. My mouth flattens, my teeth clamping down on my lip to
stifle the gasp. I open my mouth to speak but words fail me. My chest feels tight and I close my
mouth, trying to formulate a thought or a word past the pain.

"You bastard," I manage, my eyes brimming with tears. It doesn't make me angry. It makes me sad.
Like reading a tragedy when you know the ending but haven't reached it yet. "It's okay for me
though? You think I won't lie awake at night remembering you? Measure every other man against
you?"

"Don't," he says, his voice deep and growly. "Don't talk about other men."

"Why not?" I say, my voice harsh and callous. "You'll be gone. What do you care? You won't have
to be there to watch as I find something wrong with man after man because none of them are you.
You'll be gone. Safe from having to remember my touch or my kiss. You'll be fine. And I'll be
broken."

That's the hard part. Knowing that this is doomed. That I love him. That I'm hopelessly in love
with him and now we both know there is no future. I had figured this but hadn't let myself think
about it, choosing instead to live in the now and put my broken heart together when it was over. I
don't know why he would say so many sweet things to me. All that shit with the journal. Worrying
about me dying. He could have just fucked me. It's not like I wasn't willing. He didn't have to make
it hurt this much.

"You think I haven't known that this would end?" I ask, choking on emotions. "That I didn't know
there's an expiration date on whatever this is? I never let it hold me back. Never let it stop me from
feeling or loving. I let myself get swept away by your words and the way you touched me, but this
whole time you've had a safety net. A way out. A contingency plan. You seem so strong.
Invincible. But you're a coward."

He pulls back as if I slapped him. Maybe I did. Maybe he deserved it. I pull my hands out of his
shirt and turn away to find my own. Why the fuck am I ALWAYS naked when we fight. I have the
world's worst timing.

"You're right," he says softly. "I am."

"Somebody give captain obvious a cookie," I bite out, my words and tone caustic. My heart feels
like it's breaking already and I am lashing out. Some part of me knows it. Some part of me knows
I'm hurting him. "I just have one question."

He looks at me as I pull the shirt over my head and slide my arms into the proper holes. He didn't
refuse so I plow ahead.

"You haven't let me touch you this whole time," I say, wiping a stray tear. "You reeled me in, made
me want you, not just your dick or your body, but you. You did it knowing you had no intention of
giving me any real piece of yourself. Why? You could have just fucked me David. I could have
fucked Tank the SpecOps dude and neither of us would have gotten hurt. But you pushed this. You
made this more. You made me want more. Made me believe that there was, albeit small, a
possibility of more. Why?"

"I don't know," he says, his voice scratchy, like he's fighting his own emotions.

"Bullshit," I respond.

"I DON'T KNOW!" he yells. "God... I just... fuck... I don't know what I'm doing. I just had to have
you. And not some meaningless, worthless hook-up."

"Well congratulations," I say, my lip quivering. "It wasn't meaningless. You get a gold star."
"Please don't be like that," David says, reaching for me. I shrink away, terrified that he will touch
me and I'll make an even bigger fool of myself.

"This was a bad idea," I say, scooting away. "Just give me the meds and I'll find my way home."

"Don't be ridiculous," he says.

"I'm not," I say. "I'm being realistic. No point in me falling any deeper when you've got yourself so
locked up I can't even touch you. Shit's stupid and I'm not a stupid girl. Therefore, I have to leave."

I carefully stand up and limp over to the boxers. I'm not really prepared for this, but it's not like I
can walk out naked. I lean against the wall and begin to put them on. I lose my balance when I put
my weight on my injured leg, but the wall helps.

"Okay, fine," he says. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't do me any favors," I bite out, trying to get my other leg into the boxer shorts.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to admit I'm scared?" he asks.

"Ooooh, big deal," I mock. "I guess because you're a big manly, man, it's somehow harder for you
to be admit you're scared than it is me."

He comes closer, his big body blocking me. I take a step to the side and my leg buckles. David
catches me, his hands tender, lifting me as easily as if I'm a child.

"You're right," he says. "I'm sorry. Please stay. I... I can't bear the idea of you walking away. I
don't want you to go."
 David

Y/N wrangles herself out of my arms and just stands there, quiet. I wish I knew what she was
thinking. Time passes, too much time. I start to panic, dropping to my knees to pull her to me. Her
hands come to my shoulders, but only to push me away.

"No," she says, her voice unwavering and resolute. "No, that isn't fair. You use my body against
me. My girl parts don't think right when you're touching me."

"Y/N, please," I say. "I know you're right. I'm sorry. I was a jerk. I didn't even realize I was doing it
until you asked me why. It wasn't malicious or intentional. But it was wrong. And I'm sorry. Please
don't go."

"I just don't understand," she chokes out, a tear leaking from her eyes. "I don't understand why you
did any of this. It could have been just sex."

I shake my head.

"No," I respond. "No, it could never have been that."

"Why not?" she asks, glaring at me. "Is that part of the thrill? You make someone care about you?
Bigger ego-boost?"

"God, no, Y/N," I say, running a hand through my hair. "It's not like that at all."

"Then why," she says, her lip quivering. "Tell me."

"Because I love you," I say, my voice louder than I mean it to be. "Because I think I have from the
first time I touched you. You don't understand at all. I DON'T DO THIS. I don't just sleep with
random women. I don't let them into my life. I don't tell them who I am. It's been years since my
last relationship and I've paid women for their company ever since. It's too dangerous for me to
have an relationship. So I don't. And I was fine with that until I cut your stupid pants off and now
everything is fucked up in my head. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where to go with it.
I just want you. More than I've wanted anything or anyone in a long time. Maybe ever."
"You pay women to sleep with you?" she asks quietly.

I sigh. I hadn't meant to tell her that.

"Yeah," I say, my voice sounding defeated even to my ears. My long speech and that's the part she
really heard. None of the rest of it. I watch as she seems to shrink in on herself, becoming even
smaller before my eyes.

"It's no wonder you wouldn't want me to touch you then," she says. "I can't compete with women
that actually know what they're doing. I've only been with two guys. Maybe if I had half a clue I
could have gotten past your defenses the way you have mine."

"Y/N, no," I say, reaching for her. She pulls away.

"David, don't," she says. "I get it. I'm not experienced enough. I never made you lose control. Not
once."

"Stop, baby," I say. "Please don't say that. One, it isn't true. You drive me crazy. Two, this isn't on
you. This is me. My issues. My lifestyle. I don't want you internalizing that shit."

"How?" she says, looking at me. "How do I drive you crazy?"

"The sounds you make turn me on more than any woman ever has with her hands or her mouth," I
say honestly. "Cutting your pants off, everything that's happened since. I've never responded this
way to anyone. I think... I think... I was scared. I am scared. That's not an emotion I'm really
familiar with and I'm not coping with it very well. I shouldn't have pushed you away or held you at
arms length. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. You have to believe me. Please don't go."

"Fine," she says, wiping her cheeks. "On one condition."

"Anything," I say quickly, relief washing over me.

Anything. That's what I said. I think I even meant it. That I would do anything if she would stay.
"I want to fuck you," she says, looking at me from the side of her eyes, her face turned away as if
afraid of my response.

"You've been fucking me," I say, confused.

"No," she says. I watch as she takes a deep breath. Does she really need that much courage? Maybe
she does. I hate that I made her feel like that. "You've been fucking me. You've done everything to
me. For me. I want to fuck you. Look through your black bag of supplies and find something I can
use to tie your hands up. I don't want you distracting me or taking control. You really want me to
stay? Give up your control. Give it to me."

I take a shaky breath. She certainly doesn't do anything half way.

"You want to tie me up and fuck me," I say. It's not a question. It's a statement.

"If I'm honest," she says. "No. That's not what I want. I want to make love to you. I want to show
you with my mouth and hands and body what I can't put into words."

I open my mouth, but she holds up a finger to stop me.

"But you can't be trusted," she says. "You're so fucking dominant. Used to getting your way. And I
can't think when you touch me. So yeah, I want to tie you up."

"What if I promise to be good?" I ask. "What if I promise to let you touch me?"

She shakes her head.

"Either you meant it when you said 'anything'," she says. "Or you didn't. If you didn't, I'm leaving."

"I've never been tied up before," I say.

Her shoulders droop and she sighs.

"Forget it," she says, turning away.

"Stop," I say, grabbing her arm. "I didn't say no. I'll do it. I just... I like touching you."

Her eyes shine when she looks at me, a small happy smile on her mouth.

"Really?" she asks, like she really believed I was going to say no. "You're really going to let me tie
you up?"

"And here I thought I was the kinky one," I say, pulling her a step closer. "Yes, you can tie me up.
But I have a condition of my own. Turnabout is fair play. I want a chance to tie you up."

She swallows, a slow blush turning her cheeks crimson.

"Okay," she says.

"Then it's settled," I say.

"For the record," she says. "It's not MY kink. I've never tied anyone up before. It's just the only
thing I could think of to make you let go of your control."

"Surrrrrre," I tease, pulling her into my arms. I lean my head against her forehead and release her
arms. I link mine behind my back. "Touch me, kiss me."

"Oh no you don't," she says, stepping away. "You'll have me side-tracked and coming on your
fingers in like three seconds if I start before you're actually tied up."

"Three seconds, huh," I say, grinning despite myself. "I think you give me more credit than I
deserve."
"Shut up and find something for me to tie you up," she says, shoving me a little.

"Okay, okay," I say.

I turn and look through the bag and eventually decide on the medical tape.

"Here," I say, handing it to her. I bend down and pick her up, taking her back to the bed.

"Hey," she says, slapping my shoulder. "I could have walked."

"Your leg is bothering you," I say. "You're limping and I know it hurts. There's no reason for you
to hurt when I can just carry you. It costs me nothing and I like having you in my arms. I won't be
able to touch you soon, so give me this."

She smirks.

"Fine," she says. "But only because I like when you carry me."

I set her down next to the air mattress and she sits on the edge.

"Strip," she says, looking at me.

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"What?" she asks. "I don't want to be impeded from enjoying you to the fullest extent possible.
Your clothes are in the way."

"All right, miss bossy pants," I say. My voice lowers as I think about all the things I want to do to
her. "Just remember... My turn next."

I push my sweat pants off my hips, my dick already beginning to harden. She eyes me hungrily and
it's so fucking hot I wonder why I waited. I reach behind my head and pull the tshirt, still smelling
of her sex, over my head, tossing it to the side.

She's so fucking cute. Nervous and excited. Her emotions light across her face. I bend down,
putting my wrists together in front of her. Her eyes dart between my hands and my dick.

"This plan was not well constructed," she says, her breath hitched.

"You're not backing out are you?" I ask, unmoving.

"No," she says, giving her head a little shake. She pulls the edge of the tape up with a fingernail
then jerks a long strip. "You're not getting away that easy."

"Not too tight," I say as she begins to tape my wrists.

"Okay," she says, winding the tape around several times. She leans forward and grips the tape with
her teeth, making a little tear, before closing her hand around my wrist so the end sticks in place. I
can't tell you why, but this is incredibly sexy. Or maybe it's just her.

"Now what?" I ask. Her face is a myriad of thoughts and emotions.

"Lay down on the bed," she says, licking her lips. My dick pulses and I know she sees it.

"As you wish," I say, quoting one of my favorite movies. It's an older movie, so she might not be
familiar with it.

"Really," she scoffs. "The Princess Bride?"

"Are you saying I wouldnt make a good Dread Pirate Robert?" I ask. "I already have the black
clothing. And obviously, I dont mind a mask."

"Will you shut up and get on the bed?" she asks. "And stop being so cute."
"I will if you will," I say. She's fucking adorable. The only thing I want to do right now is kiss her.
But this is her show. And I'm so glad she didn't leave.

It is going to be a little awkward getting on the bed with my hands tied like they are. Air mattesses
really suck. But it's better than the floor so I'm not complaining.

"You'll have to move off the bed," I say. "Otherwise I might send you flying."

She stands, favoring her good foot.

"Now will you get on the bed?" she asks.

I turn and throw my body backwards landing close to the middle. It takes a minute to scoot and
wiggle my way up. When I feel good about my placement, I lift my hands above my head.

Y/N is laughing silently. Her shoulders shaking and mouth contorted as she tries to fight it.

"Don't laugh at me woman," I say hauntily. "This is your plan."

I fight my own smile, but eventually give in. I pull my arms down and crook a finger from my
bound hands at her.

"Come on, baby," I say. "Take your power back. Put me in my place. Ruin me for anyone else."

She frowns, chewing on her lip.

"Yeah...," she says. "I see what you mean. Let's NOT talk about other people."

She crawls on the bed, still favoring her good leg.

"Can I straddle you?" she asks.

"Y/N, baby...," I say, lifting my arms back above my head. "You can do whatever you want to
me."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, not anything," I correct. "But within reason."

Y/N shifts her hips and rolls on top of me, her legs coming to rest on each side of my hips. She
pulls the shirt over her head and I lick my lips. I don't know if I've ever seen anything as sexy as her
leaning over me, sleep touseled hair, wearing nothing but a pair of my boxer shorts. I don't know
who needs to hear this but it's fucking sexy. So fucking sexy. My dick flexes and presses against
her stomach, the tip of it just above her navel.

She bends down, her gorgeous tits begging to be squeezed, nipples bit and pinched. But I wait. Her
show. Her show. I can wait.

She kisses me, softly at first, her little tongue licking at the corner of my mouth, her hands on my
chest. This is torture. She nips at my jaw and I feel my dick twitch against her stomach.

I want to move my hips, to press her pelvic bone against my dick but I wait. It's only been about a
minute. It's going to get so much harder, pun intended.

She kisses my chest, her tongue drawing a wet circle around my nipple before she bites it. Not hard,
just enough to make me suck in a breath. My dick is aching where it's pressed against her. It's so
hard. At this rate, I'll come before she even touches it.

I flash back to just hours ago, when she took me in her mouth. It seems like more time has to have
passed, but it was only a few hours. I am struck by the same sensation now as I was then. I can't
take her mouth on me. I'll come in seconds, like a teenage boy getting his dick sucked for the first
time. There's no way.

Of course, maybe if I hadn't been so greedy, she wouldn't feel like she has to strip me of my control
to get some of hers back. She has no idea how much control she has. I love her. I fucking love her.
It hasn't even been twenty-four hours and I'm disrupting my whole life for her. I wish she could see
it. But she doesn't know who I really am. She doesn't know anything about me. Maybe THAT's
part of the problem.

"I'm twenty-seven years old," I say, my teeth clenched as her tongue and teeth play on my chest.
"My birthday is July 29th. I served two tours in the military, army. I grew up in a small town
outside Indianapolis. Riot is my twin brother. Our mother still lives in the home where we grew up.
I never knew my father. He left my mother when she was pregnant with us. My grandma died three
years ago. It was her house where we grew up."

Her lips had stalled several sentences prior. I expect her to say something, to engage in
conversation, but she just shakes her head at me.

"Even tied up, you still are trying to distract me. You can't be that afraid, David," she says.

"What? No," I say. "I just thought, maybe you wouldn't feel so out of control if you knew a little bit
about me."

She lays a finger across my lips.

"Shhh," she says. "You can tell me about yourself later. Right now, I just want to feel you."

She runs a fingernail down my chest and the sensation goes straight to my dick. God, she's sexy.
She doesn't even know. My poor, aching dick. I'm never going to survive this.
 Y/N

Sorry this one took so long guys. I spent the last few days at the protests with only limited
connectivity. Please join the protests if you're able. If not there are a ton of actions you can
take/petitions you can sign, etc at http://ally.wiki

My mind is reeling. I'm trying so hard to shut it off and act sexy, but I can't.

David loves me. He said it. Like, he really said it. It wasn't my imagination. It wasn't a fantasy.
David loves me. AND he started to tell me about himself. Personal things. Holy fuck.

I'd wanted to seduce him, to touch him and kiss him and show him how much I love being with
him. I'd wanted to make sure he'd never forget me. Now I'm all up in my head, thoughts spinning
like angry bees.

I lean up and look in his eyes. He is watching me intently, like he's memorizing my face. Or
analyzing my emotions. I wonder if the eyes really are the windows to the soul. Maybe he's
wondering the same thing. What do my eyes show? Do they tell him how much I care about him?

"What's wrong," he asks.

"You love me," I say, looking back at him.

"That's what's wrong?" he asks.

"No, no," I say, shaking my head. "I mean... nothing's wrong. I just... you love me. It just hit me...
what you said."

"Oh," he says, swallowing. He looks away abruptly. "Look, I know it's fast. I..."

His voice trails off, uncertainty lining his features. David is older than me, but in this moment, his
face has a boyish charm. He looks nervous, like he doesn't know what to say. There's a weight to
this moment. It matters. It's important.

I lean down and grab his jaw, turning him to look at me. His eyes are downcast for two seconds. It
feels like forever. When he meets my eyes, I smile. I can't help it. He's so cute sometimes.

"I love you too," I say, the words coming out in a low breath. My mouth brushes against his, our
lips meeting in silent caress.

"Say it again, please," he mouths against me. "You know, just in case I'm hearing things."

"I love you, David," I say, my lips gentle where I kiss him.

He kisses me back with feverish intensity. His hands (still bound) encircle my head, pulling me
closer.

"Hey," I say, lifting his arms off my shoulders and pushing them back above his head. "It's still my
turn. No cheating."

"God, woman," he says, fire in his eyes. "You're going to be the death of me."

"You'll get your turn," I say hautily. "Haven't you heard? Patience is a virture."

"I don't care about turns," he says.

"That's because they've all been yours," I say, kissing him again. "You promised you'd be good."

"That's what I'm trying to do," he says, lifting his hips so my pussy presses against his dick. "I'm
trying to be very good."

The door handle rattles and opens abruptly. I let out a little scream and grab the cover from the side
of the bed, using it to cover my chest. I pull the cover over David's crotch as well, but he doesn't
seem to care.
"We gotta go. We gotta go right now. Code black. Authentication Bravo Delta Tango Niner."

The man is tall but not as tall as David. He's wearing black SpecOps gear and an Anonymous
mask.

"Fuck," David says. I turn to look at him, the color draining out of his face. "Riot?"

"We tried to reach him but there's no response," the guy says.

David twists his hands and the tape that was holding him in what I thought was a fairly secure hold
snaps. Okay. That was kinda hot. But now I'm confused. He throws the cover off, his nudity
apparently a non-issue. He starts pulling on clothes and tosses mine to me.

"Keep trying," he says.

"We've only got one minute," the man says. "And that's pushing it. Our intel is late."

"Get dressed," David says, glancing at me. "I don't have time to explain. We have to go."

I blink, stunned by everything.

"NOW!" David yells.

I snap out of my daze.

"DON'T YELL AT ME," I scream back, angry suddenly. I don't know what's happening or why but
I have a horrible feeling growing in my chest. Something awful is happening.

The Anon guy at the door gestures at me.

"We don't have time for this," he says.

David pulls me up off the mattress, the covers falling away from me. I cover my tits with my arm,
but it's futile. And apparently pointless. The guy by the door has turned away and is exiting the
room. David shakes me, just a little until I focus on his face.

'We have... to... GO," he says. "I wish I had time to explain, but if you don't hurry, we're going to
die. Please, just trust me."

"O-okay," I stammer, adrenaline shooting through me. I bend down to grab the shirt from the
mattress and pull it on. My feet slip into my sneakers while David quickly gathers up things from
the room. "Okay, I'm ready."

"You're gonna have to run," he says, handing me things to carry.

I look down at my leg, worried. I'm overdue for my medicine. It already hurts. But David said we
would die. So... I have to run. I can run... It's not as bad as dying... Yeah. I nod, but don't speak. He
pulls something out of the bag. It looks like a grenade.

"Go," he says, nodding towards the door as he pulls the pin out. Fuck. It is a grenade. My body
chills as I run towards the door, the sound of the grenade hitting the floor loud in my ears as I
throw open the door and rush out, David right on my heels.

He grabs my hand and drags me away, a loud bang coming a few seconds later. It shakes the whole
building and I scream, stumbling a little. David jerks my arm and somehow, I keep my feet under
me. There's a white van about fifty feet away with the door open. This appears to be our
destination. My vision focuses on it, and I sprint with renewed determination.

My thigh is screaming at me, but I ignore it. My lungs too. I'm not used to sprinting, certainly not
being dragged along behind a giant with long, giant legs. I don't think I've ever run so fast. We
cover the ground in seconds, diving into the van.

It immediately begins to move, tires squealing. David pushes the door shut and I pull my legs up
into my chest in the corner of the van. This is crazy. What's happening? Where are we going? Is
Riot okay?
David crouches down, too tall to stand in the back of the van. There are two people in the front
seats and a quick, muted conversation ensues. I can't hear it. I look around at the back instead.
There are two seats and a myriad of computers with programs running. They are bolted into a
framework that lines the van. It is ... fucking weird. I've never seen anything like this before.
Maybe on television, but I always assumed that was... you know... fake.

"Son of a bitch," David exclaims. My eyes are immediately drawn to him, but he isn't looking at
me. He's still engrossed in the conversation with the two Anon people."When's the last time
anyone saw him?"

More whispering. My ears strain to hear, but I can't make anything out. The van turns, tires
screeching as we make our way to the bottom of the parking garage. I roll to the side, catching
myself against the wall. David seems fine, holding onto the two seats, his body just sort of
naturally maintaining equilibrium.

I wonder if it's like sea legs, if maybe I'll get used to being thrown around the back of a van. Is that
the kind of thing you can get used to? This assumes of course that I am around for future escapes in
the back of a van. Actually... it assumes this is an escape. I don't know what it is. David hasn't said
anything and I can't hear what the people in the front are saying.

Clicking sounds emanate from the passenger seat. I catch a glimpse of a laptop and his fingers
flying over the keys.

"Bypassing the traffic controls," he says. "You'll have a straight shot out. We've dropped smoke in
the streets and intersections. It won't clear everyone out, but enough for you to make your way out
of the drop zone."

Drop zone... wait...

"Like a bomb?" I ask, moving forward, my adrenalized body moving with a speed I'm not familiar
with. I pull on David's shoulder. "Is the government bombing us?"

No one says anything.

"David, please," I say, incredulous. "Tell me what's happening. What's going on?"
His face pinches, worry, stress and what looks like grief all coming and going before I have a
chance to really examine the emotions.

"Sit," he says, nodding towards the chair. "I'll tell you, but not right now. Just please, give me
some time."

As we pull onto the street, a helicopter flies over us, heading in the same direction. It's escaping.
Just like us.

"He wouldn't bomb the soldiers on the ground," I say, my voice small. Pitiful. "He's awful. A
horrible fucking president, but he wouldn't sacrifice the soldiers on the ground."

David just looks at me and this time I recognize the emotion. Pity. I realize my naivete and the
gravity of the situation in the same breath. Tears come to my eyes. For the people. For the soldiers.
For america. For the death of everything I thought was real.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "He can't."

David frowns, his lips tight and I realize something else. His brother is out there. My friends are
out there. They're going to die.

"We have to go back," I sob. "We have to warn them. Save them. Something."

I grab the handle of the door and try to wrench it open. It's irrational. I know it in some part of my
brain, but the urge to do something is overwhelming. David's arms wrap around me. His hand
stalling my fingers.

"We can't," I say, my voice quiet, thoughts and emotions progressing. We'll die if we stay. We may
die anyway. I don't know anything about blast radiuses or what the target is.

I turn into David's arms and sob. He holds me, pulling me into his lap and softly shushing me. He
comforts me as I melt down. His brother is going to die and he's comforting me.
"David," I say, my voice watery. "I'm so sorry about Riot."

"Devon," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. "His name was Devon."

"Maybe he'll get away," I say, looking up into his eyes. "You don't know he's going to die. Don't
act like he's already dead."

The van swerves, avoiding people still occupying the street despite the smoke. Another chopper,
speeds overhead. A woman screams as the van barrels past. This is the soundtrack for the death of
America. Everything I thought our country stood for. Everything we are supposed to be. It's all a
lie.

My mind is spinning, absorbing everything around me, but not really noticing anything. And then I
hear it. The sound unmistakeable. Every hair on my body stands on end, goosebumps following as
the sound sweeps over me. Jet planes. Military jet planes.

"Brace for impact," the driver says.

Oh my god. This is happening. This is really fucking happening.

"David," I cry, my hands tightening on his clothes.

There's a weird sound. A high-pitch whistle. It's the bomb. The president really bombed us. This is
America and he fucking bombed us. I cry harder, the weight of all the people that are going to die
crushing me, so heavy in my chest I can't bear it. Grief, horror and sorrow take me over. I'm filled
with despair and hopelessness.

The whistle grows louder and David lifts my chin. He kisses me then. Kisses me because... I don't
know why. Because we might die maybe, and he wanted to. Or because I'm so sad. He swallows
my sobs, swallows my grief as it pours into him where we touch.

The shock wave hits before my ears register the sound. I've never heard anything like it. A giant
boom, too loud to quantify fills the air. Alarms in cars and buildings all begin to go off at once.
People screaming. The sound of rock falling. Maybe whole buildings falling. It sounds like the end
of the world. It sounds terrifyingly close.
I tear my lips from David's mouth and lean against his chest, breathing hard. This is crazy. The
whole thing is nuts. It can't be happening. It just can't.

"Make a right," the Anon guy in the passenger seat says, fingers tip-tapping on his laptop. "We
need more space between us and ground zero. I'm activating contingency plan beta."

I catch a glimpse out the windshield as several white vans precede us around the corner. Are we in
charge of this show? THE guy is in THIS van?

I hear a sequence of small explosions going off in front of us, evidently clearing a path so we can
escape.

"Are we killing people?" I ask, my voice shaky.

"No," David says. "They're small charges underground. Nothing lethal. Not enough to kill anyone.
There might be some minor injuries, but it's mostly to scare people and funnel them away from our
path."

"But people ARE getting hurt," I say. "People ARE dying."

"THAT'S on the president," he says. "We are not responsible."

"I don't know how this is okay," I say. "I don't know how he can justify this."

"He'll spin it," the Anon guy in the passenger seat says. "He'll spin it the same way he has this
whole time. He'll say we threatened the American people with anthrax or whatever he has to do, to
convince them that this action was warranted. He's gotten a taste of real power. He's never going to
give it up now."
 David

The line of vans speeds down abandoned streets. It didn't take long for news of the bombing to
reach the general public. I type a string of commands into the laptop and begin compiling footage.
We'll use it for the video. I admit, I spend a little time looking for my brother. I start with the
cameras around his last known location. Then check the ones for the general area he was supposed
to be in. There's nothing there. Everything was destroyed. I go back to stringing together clips for
the video.

Y/N sits in the other chair, her legs criss-crossed. The gunshot wound is bleeding. I'll have to check
it when we stop. Make sure she didn't tear her stitches. She doesn't seem to notice the wound. I
hope that's a good thing, but it could go either way.

Just keep thinking about her. About the mission. Don't think about Devon. Don't, don't, don't. The
mental pep talk doesn't help. I can't believe he's gone. How the fuck can he be dead? My fist flies
out, banging on the side of the van. Better than crying, I guess. Maybe if I make myself hurt
enough, my heart will stop grieving.

Y/N startles at the loud sound. Her eyes puffy. She never even met Devon. And she cried for him.
For my brother. A lone tear slides down my cheek and I hastily wipe it away.

I know she sees it. I don't even care right now. I watch as she stands, easing her weight onto the
injured leg and stepping towards me. She grabs onto the metal framework near my head and pulls
me into a hug.

It's so sweet. Too sweet. She holds me with one arm on the framework, the other tight around my
neck. And it's too fucking sweet. I try to hold back my emotions, but this also is useless.

I grab hold of her hips and bury my head in her chest. My shoulders shake with silent sobs and I
squeeze her tighter. Like somehow I will block away the real world. Like I can shrink everything
down into the tiny space between us and somehow make it manageable.

"I'm here," she says, her fingers gently rubbing the back of my head. She doesn't tell me it will be
okay. She doesn't tell me I'm okay. There are no meaningless platitudes. Just her love and
acceptance. Her understanding.

I don't know how long I cry. Long enough for the sounds of the city to die away. I take a deep
breath. Then another. And push her away.

I have work to do and she seems to understand. There's no recrimination in her eyes. Just warmth.
And sadness. It almost makes cry again. I bend down and reach into the bag we brought with us.
The medicine is there and I fish it out handing it to her with a bottle of water. I take another for
myself and pretend everything is okay.

"Here," I say. "You've got to be hurting."

"I am," she says. "But it will make me sleepy. I'll wait till we get where we are going."

She's right, of course. Just in case we run into trouble, it will be better if she's alert. But I didn't
expect her to think that far in advance. Or maybe I just wanted to wipe away the pain that keeps her
forehead clenched. Maybe I wanted to thank her for ... everything without having to say anything.

Because I have no idea what to say now. I feel like a teenager, looking at a pretty girl, tongue tied
and palms sweaty. She's seen me at my most vulnerable. I don't know what to do with that. My
masculinity isn't so fragile that I am upset about it. But I don't have even the smallest fucking clue
what to do or say now.

I open the water in her hand, twisting the cap off.

"At least drink something," I say.

I open my own water and lift the bottle to my lips, sucking it down until the plastic crinkles, before
letting the air rush past my lips and fill the bottle. I put the cap back on, attempting to ignore her.
Y/N drinks deeply, dainty little swallows that are somehow provocative. She pulls the bottle from
her lips and a clear drop of water hangs on her bottom lop. Suspended.

It's mesmerizing. I watch her tongue lick it away and I want to kiss her. Drown in her. Chase away
my pain with the taste of her and the way she feels wrapped around my dick.

"Do you have the upload ready?" Stéphan asks, breaking me from my thoughts.
"Uh, yeah. Just about," I say, turning back to the laptop. I drop the water in the bag before typing a
few strings of commands.

Stéphan pushes a button on his headset, invisible beneath the hood.

"Break formation," he says. "Reconvene at 0900. Rendezvous point seven bravo."

The vehicles in front of us peel off, driving in different directions. The ones behind us do as well,
although I can't see them. We've practiced this exercise. Everyone knows their role.

I pull up the program I've had running in the background. The one that hacks the emails. It's been
compiling any emails that could possibly pertain to the bombing, flagging them based on my preset
codewords.

Most of them are useless. But I find two that are important. One is to Eric from Ivanka. The other
from the Secretary of Defense to Pence. Both confirm the bombing was ordered by the president.
Ivanka even says she thinks it's wrong. That should play well with the media.

We hacked the emails weeks ago, but never released anything, waiting for the right moment. No
need to tip our hand prematurely. And we knew they'd double down on security if they knew we
had access. Everything was copied and backed up of course. But it was necessary to wait for this
exact reason.

"I want to help," Y/N says. "I can write. I could help with the message for the video. You're doing
a video right? Like before?"

Stéphan looks back at me, still wearing the mask. I nod my head, indicating without words that I
trust her. He won't. Not yet. I didn't see him without the mask until maybe six months ago. It's
safer that way. For everyone. The internet has dubbed him Scorpion. It's an apt enough name I
guess. He's dangerous. And deadly.

I have a decent repertoire of hacking skills but Stéphan hacks circles around me. He's been doing
this since he was a child, writing code like it's his mother tongue. I, on the other hand, was trained.
I wasn't completely useless behind a keyboard, but it took a while for me to have the necessary
skills. I'm still not as good as Devon. Or... I wasn't... I push the thought away.
"Okay then," Stéphan says.

I bend down and pull the iPad out of the bag. All our devices have protections so I access it for
Y/N and close out the previously active programs. I turn the device and she takes it. Our fingers
touch, hers lingering over mine for a moment. My heart races and I turn away quickly. I can't. I
can't with her. I don't know what it is, but the nicer she is to me, the closer my emotions are to the
surface. I either want to fuck her to death or cry. It doesn't seem there's much in between.

"Type it in the note section," I say, my voice low and husky with emotion.

The iPad has a keyboard case and I hear her fingers typing. I refuse to look at her. Refuse to be
jealous of an inanimate object because her fingers are touching it. I feel ridiculous. This is
moderately better than thinking of Devon. I try not to picture his body, burnt and dying, but the
image is imprinted in my mind. I've seen war. I know what the bodies look like after a bombing.
Imagining Devon this way takes me down a dark path.

I want to destroy the world, starting with the President and everyone that was responsible for the
monster he's become. I want to kill him slowly. Painfully. I want to take away the things he loves.
But this, too, is a fallacy. He doesn't love anything or anyone but himself. It's just as well. He's who
I want to hurt.

It was bad enough when we found the records of him and Epstein. I'll never understand how that
wasn't the end of it. How the people were so blind to what we showed them. Of course the
documents aren't kind to Hilary either. This election isn't much better. It seems that everyone in
power has ties to this shit.

I feel sorry for the people. We can't make the decision for them. Then we wouldn't be any better
than the people we are trying to oust. All we can do is illuminate the secrets people in power want
to hide. The things they dare not admit out loud, knowing that the masses would turn on them. That
is why we do the things we do. That is our aim. To see the people take control of their own lives
and turn their backs on these people they currently let rule them.

I review the footage that we are splicing into the video. Images and shorts of the bombing. Of
people crying in the streets. Of people dying. I cut to a video of Trump talking about carrying
protesters out on stretchers. Add in audio from a recent phone interview in which he said that he
considered all of the protesters to be terrorists and should be dealt with accordingly.

Y/N is still typing when we pull into the parking lot of a small warehouse. Stéphan calls to let
them know we are here and have not been followed. Like Simmons, he uses daily code phrases. I
swallow around the lump in my throat. Devon knew what he was getting into. We both did. More
code phrases wouldn't have saved him. Maybe if I hadn't been holed up with Y/N. I shake my head,
unwilling to examine that line of thought even a little bit further. Devon is gone. I'm not going to
throw her away too out of guilt. Period.

The door to the loading dock opens and we drive the vehicle into the building. Our colleagues will
all stay somewhere else for the night, the accommodations prepared well in advance. We have a
rolling list of places that we are willing to use for hideouts, temporary base camps, etc. This
warehouse was purchased years ago for next to nothing. It's off-grid and perfect as a base of
operations when we run ops in DC.

I gather up the bags and close the laptop. Y/N looks at me. I can feel her gaze. I don't return it,
afraid of what I'll see. I can't handle any more nice tonight. Stéphan and Jeremiah (the driver) exit
the vehicle. I push out of the seat to do the same when she grabs my arm. I want to shake her off,
but I can't. Instead I turn, letting the bag fall out of my hand.

I push her back into her seat, holding her captive with my body against hers. Our lips meet hungrily
and the fire pushes everything else away. I kiss her. Hard. Almost hateful. Not towards her but
towards my life. Towards Devon who is gone now. Towards every fucked up thing that brought us
to this point. I let her swallow all that hate and she throws it back at me, escalating the kiss. She
bites my lip, her hand wrapping around my throat, nails digging into the skin, just enough to fan the
flames of what I'm already feeling.

"Don't," I say, my voice sounding like a growl to my own ears. "If you don't stop, I'll fuck you in
this van."

"Do it then," she says, squeezing a little harder. "You better hurry though. We got shit to do."

This is not the response I expected. Not at all what I thought she would say. I don't know what
comes over me. Without a thought I am pushing my boxers up her thighs and slipping my fingers
inside her. God, she's wet. And so fucking hot. My dick is instantly hard. She makes a noise against
my mouth. It's anticipation and pleasure and hope all rolled into something that I don't have a name
for. I pull my dick out and spread her legs, putting her good ankle on my shoulder.

This is a horrible idea. Fucking ridiculous. And I couldn't stop now to save my life. I shove myself
inside her and cover her mouth with my hand, stifling her moans. I fuck her hard and rough. Fast
and unaplogetic. I want to tease her. Draw it out. Make her crazy but I can't. I settle for seeing her
eyes roll back as I use my thumb on her clit. Feel her clench around me when she comes. I pump
once, maybe twice more after her and then I'm coming too.
It's not until I pull out that I realize I made a mistake. A horrible, awful mistake. I didn't use a
condom. She seems to realize it at the same time I do, our foreheads pressed together, both of us
breathing hard.

"I'm sorry," I say, my head shaking back and forth. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so sorry.
I can get you a plan B or... fuck, whatever you want. I... I'm sorry."

I feel her smile, before I hear it in her words.

"I'm on the pill," she says. "You're fine. We're fine. I'm clean. You're clean, right? I mean... you
are, right?"

"Yeah," I say, pulling away to look in her eyes. "I was tested about four months ago."

"Then we're fine," she says. "Or we will be after you hand me a baby wipe so I can clean up."

I laugh then. Not a big, hearty laugh. Just a chuckle, but it's something. In the wake of so much
horror and my brother's death. It's something.
 Y/N

I sit in a chair, the little keyboard for the iPad balanced on my thighs. I type a few sentences, and
look at David. He's bending over a chair talking to someone at a wall of computers. I've never seen
so many computers in one place before. I don't know how they remember what is even happening
on each screen. It reminds me of a movie with Ice Cube in it, but I can't remember which one. An
older one. Something from the nineties, I think.

I sigh and shift back to the iPad. I'm definitely feeling the effects of what happened in the van. It
doesn't help that the chair is uncomfortable, although I'm not sure it would matter after the way he
railed me. I tell myself I'd enjoy a nice bath, something to soothe the little aches. But would I
really? Maybe I am revelling in them. Maybe I feel him inside me each time I shift in my seat.
Maybe I feel his hands on me every time I move. Maybe I want him inside me again. I think I'm
addicted to him. I've never had sex like this before. Never been so thoroughly fucked nor so
completely satisfied.

A sense of shame wriggles through me. Devon. God. How can I be sitting here imaging having sex
with David when he's going through so much? His brother is missing, probably dead. I haven't
given up hope, but David seems certain that Devon would have checked in by now if he were still
alive.

The memory of him crying against my chest brings tears to my eyes. It felt so raw. So incredibly
honest. I'm already in love with him, but that moment pushed things. Feeling his pain. Bearing the
weight of it. Helping him through it. It's why I had reached for him in the van. I wanted to talk to
him. We didn't do much talking, but it had felt like he needed me. Like he was desperate to have
me. Like I was the only thing keeping him anchored. No one has ever needed me so badly before
and it was intoxicating.

And then... God. I bite my lip and shift in my seat, letting the ache wash over me as I think of him
pounding into me, his massive cock stretching me until I wanted to scream. His hand over my
mouth. How is it possible that I've never had sex like this before? Does he hold some kind of
monopoly on steamy sex? Does he even know how hot it is? Like what the fuck?

I don't know how I'm supposed to handle it. I have said it before and I'll say it again. I am not
prepared. If I'm honest... I'm not prepared for any of this. I'm almost twenty years old and I've
learned more about the world in the last week than I have the entirety of the rest of my life. It's
rather overwhelming. I look down at the iPad screen where I, ME, Y/N from the outskirts of DC
am typing the message for fucking ANONYMOUS. Like... this doesn't seem possible. Yet here I
am.

I read through the paragraphs and think about the ANON videos I've seen in the past. It has to
sound similar. Has to capture the outrage over the president's actions and inform the public. I close
my eyes and type, letting my fingers fly over the keys, the message coming from my heart. When it
feels ready, I open my eyes and look down. I read it and fix a few typos. It's ready.

I stand, stretching my arms over my head. Goddamn, I feel him all over me and I love it. I walk
over to where David and Scorpion are huddled together talking. David turns as I walk up. The
corner of his mouth lifting, just a little. He smiled because he saw me. Why is that so fucking cute?

"All right," I say. "I've got the message ready. You may want to add some things or change it
around. I mean... I don't know. If you hate it and don't use any of it, I'll understand."
I hand over the iPad. David reads it. Then Scorpion. I hold my breath, lungs burning.

"Naw, it's good," Scorpion says. "Really good."

"Really?" I ask, pleased with myself.

"Yeah, it sounds great," he says. "I'm glad I didn't have to do it honestly. I hate writing. So, thank
you."

"Thanks for letting me come with you guys," I say, my nerves getting the best of me. "And for the
chance to help, in whatever small way I can. I'm sorry about earlier. It was all a shock and well...
you're kind of intimidating."

"It's the mask," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice. "Without the mask, I'm just another guy."

David clears his throat and I lean my shoulder into his, affectionately. If I didn't know better, I'd
think he might be jealous but that would just be silly.

"Come on," David says. "I'll show you around."

He takes me for a tour of their set-up in the warehouse. Most of the building is unused, but the
there are four big stations of computers like the one where David and Scorpion were talking about
the video broadcast. There's also a room with bunk beds for people to sleep, a large communal
style bathroom and a kitchen with food and supplies.

"You guys all use the same bathroom?" I ask when David finishes the tour.

"Pretty much yeah," he says. "There are a lot of ex-military. We're kind of used to it."

"I'm not...," I say. "Used to it that is."

We stop walking, David turning to fix me with very direct eye contact. It seems important.

"After we record the video I'll go with you," he says. "There's only a few of us here. I'll make sure
no one intrudes."

"I uh...," I swallow. I don't know why I'm so nervous right now. It's annoying as fuck. I clear my
throat and start again. "I don't have any clothes to change into."

"You can borrow some of mine if you want," he says. "Or I can ask the group."

"No, no," I say quickly. "I don't want to be a bother. Yours are fine."

"I would give you something of Devon's but I don't think I can go through his things yet," David
says. "He's a little shorter than me. His clothes still wouldn't fit you, but it wouldn't be as much of a
difference."

I shake my head.

"David, really," I say, putting a hand on his arm. "It's not a big deal. Besides, I like wearing your
clothes."

He smiles at me then. That boyish, charming smile that I feel all the way to my toes. He's smiling
at me. For me. And it's everything. My heart skips a beat as the smile turns feral.

"I'd rather see you out of them," he says, stepping close. He grabs my jaw, his thumb rubbing over
my bottom lip and I forget how to breathe. I stare up at him and it's like time stops. My tongue
darts out to lick his finger before I even know I'm going to do it. He groans, biting his own lip and
the reaction warms me in a way I can't really explain.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I say, looking up at him through my lashes.

"Everything's so crazy," David says, his head hanging. "Devon. The bombing. The movement.
You're the only thing that feels normal which is crazy because being with you and feeling this way
is about as far from normal as I can imagine."

"I know what you mean," I say, stepping forward to wrap my arms around him in a hug. "You drive
me crazy and make me calm at the same time."

"I want to fuck you all the time," he says. "Like... ALL the time. It's not grief because I've felt this
way from the beginning. But now... when I'm with you... I forget he's gone. Those moments when I
forget... those are precious to me."

I squeeze him a little tighter.

"Every moment we're together feels precious," I say. "It's a little weird actually. I don't know how I
feel about it. It's scary. I trust you more than I ever have a stranger, but we really just met. And I
don't know what I'm doing. You're part of something that's so much bigger than me and I don't
know where I fit into that either. I just really want to be with you. I love you."

He pulls away from me then. Just enough that he can bend down and kiss me. One of those sweet,
soft, knee-weakening kisses that melt my heart and turn me to mush. This is the part that's
dangerous. I could lose myself in him at his sweetest. Lose myself and never care. Assuming I
haven't lost myself already. Assuming there's anything left to lose.

"I love you too," he says, breathing the words across my lips. "It seems impossible that we just
met."

"God, tell me about it," I say, drawing a deep breath. He leans his forehead against mine in that
way that I love.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get this recorded. I want to take a shower and go to bed."

"You're tired?" I ask, genuinely confused. "I don't think I could sleep."

"I'm not planning on sleeping," he says, his voice low and husky. He turns and pulls me along
behind him. Good lord. He certainly has a way with my girl parts. It doesn't even make sense how
strongly I respond to him. It's insane. Literally insane.

We make our way back to Scorpion and set up the camera and a back-ground screen. David has the
footage we are splicing into the video pulled up on one of the screens already. I have no idea how
any of that works. Writing is about my only skill but maybe he'll teach me.

The code begins to fly across the back-ground screen and a chill settles around me as Scorpion
begins to talk, reading the words I wrote. It sounds so different when he says it. The modified,
electronic voice is captivating and scary. Also weirdly sexy. I put THAT thought out of mind
immediately. It's too much. Instead, I listen to Scorpion's speech.

Greetings citizens of the United States. This is a message from Anonymous to the President of the
United States, Donald J. Trump. Over the last few weeks, you have watched as citizens around the
country rise up in protest of the actions of a criminal and unjust police system. You have attacked
them for your photo-ops. You have belittled them in your communications both with other leaders
and with the general public. And as of today, you have bombed them.

In 1985, a bomb was dropped in Philadelphia to quell an uprising of African Americans. This
attack was born of fear and was designed to crush the spirit of the African Americans that saw
through the system of oppression to which they belonged. Today, you carry on the tradition,
bombing your own citizens out of fear in the hopes of crushing their spirits. Many people are now
learning that you're not here to govern, but rather to oppress. You continually sow seeds of
divisiveness and perpetuate racist ideals in an effort to control the citizens of this country.

People have had enough of this corruption and violence from a leader that is supposed to govern
us and keep us safe. After the events of the past few hours, American citizens are realizing that they
are not free. They are held captive by capitalism and are slaves to the criminal elite ruling class. A
fact which hits home as people around the nation and indeed the world become aware of your
actions and the thousands of American citizens you killed in the name of fear.

Countries around the world watch in horror as you murder democracy and sacrifice your own
people. You have lied to your supporters. You have withheld the truth from the general public.
You've destroyed the constitution and everything it stands for. These transgressions will no longer
be tolerated. Your reign of terror must end. We will expose your many crimes to the world.

We are legion. Expect us.

"Expect us," I whisper. "Nothing hot about that. No siree..."

"What?" David asks, distracted as he plays with the video on one of the screens and his compiled
footage on another, blending them together seamlessly on a third.

"Nothing," I say, blushing. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"What'd you think?" Scorpion asks, his voice coming from right behind me. I spin, startled to see
him. He's standing so close. Is there a reason for him to be that close?

"Uh...," I blank. Words and thoughts evacuating my mind. "It was... good?"

My voice goes up at the end, turning it into a question and I have no explanation. The mask is
doing funny things to me. I turn back to David, my cheeks crimson. I expect to see him working on
the video, but he seems to have turned towards us. His eyes narrow as he looks at me and I
swallow. He IS jealous. I move towards him, looping my arms around his neck and kissing him on
the cheek.

"It was real good," I say. "It was different hearing you say it than when I read it in my head. It felt
powerful when you said it."

"Good," he says, turning away. "That's what we want."

David turns back to the video and I sit down next to him on a chair. Scorpion takes one on the
other side and begins typing.

"So what happens now?" I ask.

"We'll hack a few tv stations," Scorpion says. "Maybe a satellite broadcaster. Then we overlay the
television signal with our transmission. I'll also throw a copy up on youtube under a fake account
and tweet a link. And that's it. We're done."
"You make it sound easy," I say, gulping. I'm a part of this now. There's no going back.

"Parts of it are easy," David says. "Some of the tv stations are cakewalks. We'll pick on fox news
of course. That's a given. But we'll probably throw in a few oddballs too."

"It's exciting," I say, "Being a part of this. Knowing millions of people are about to hear your
message and that I wrote it. I'm maybe a teensy bit geeked out right now. It's like being famous, but
no one knows who you are."

"Exactly," Scorpion says. "Welcome to Anonymous."

He hits a few keys and seven of the screens at the top flicker before the video we just recorded
begins to play. I don't know what happened or why, but my girl parts go nuts. The electronic voice
is washing over me, Scorpion is on the screens and the mask is ... well... hot. But I'm with David. I
mean... I love David. So why I am I getting all hot and bothered from Scorpion's video?

That is the question...

 David

The internet lights up immediately, rippling around the world. Tweets and retweets. Google
searches. The youtube video hits 500k views within half an hour. I'm monitoring the activity when
a call comes through on the secure line. I hear Stéphan go through the verification process. Listen
to the code words as I type in a command to correlate the data strings.

"David," Stéphan says, his voice sounding urgent. "David, he's alive."

My heart drops into my stomach and I stop breathing.

"Devon?" I ask, afraid to let myself hope. But it has to be him. It couldn't be anyone else.

I scramble for the phone, ripping it out of Stéphan's hands. I almost drop it, fumbling awkwardly
before regaining control. My hands shake as I raise it to my ear.

"Devon, is that you?" I ask. My voice is as shaky as my hands.

"Hi, little brother," he says.

I smile, tears coming to my eyes. His voice sounds strained, like he's in pain. But it's him. It's really
him.

"You have me by like three minutes," I say. "And I'm taller than you. I'd hardly consider myself
little."

We've had this discussion so many times, but this is the first time I've ever been happy to have it. I
want to scream and jump around. He coughs, the sound weak and labored.

"What happened?" I ask. "Are you okay?"

"I've been better," Devon says, speaking through clenched teeth. "I'm okay, I think. I was shot in
the arm, but it was a through and through. No biggie. Couple broken ribs and I fucked up my
knee."

"What happened?" I repeat.

"After I got shot, I went into an alley so I could take care of it," he says. "I tried to call, but the
signal was blocked. Then they dropped the bomb and half the building fell on me. I only just got
free."

I blink fast and breathe out slowly, trying to control my emotions. He's alive. He's really fucking
alive. I can't believe it. Hadn't dared even let myself consider it as a possibility. I don't know why.
Fear maybe. I don't know.

"I thought you were dead," I say, my voice cracking on the last word. I squeeze my eyes shut and
press on them with my fingers. Whew. I'm okay. He's okay. I'm okay. He's okay. I keep chanting it
in the back of my mind.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," Devon says. "I haven't even had a chance to steal your new
girl."

I shake my head, wiping my eyes. I laugh. I can't help it.

"You wish," I say. "Fucking idiot."

"What?" he jokes, coughing a little. "We'll have a little reprieve after the bombing. I'll have time to
put the moves on her. If she likes you, she'll LOVE me. Besides, I'm cuter."

"You're a dumbass," I say, shaking my head. "Where are you? I'm coming to get you."

Devon gives me a rendezvous point and a back-up in case there are any cops. I set the phone down
when he hangs up and turn to Y/N. She's smiling at me and I grab her, pulling her out of the chair
and spinning her around until we're both laughing.

"He's alive," I say, repeating it over and over again.

We come to a stop and the tears I had kept in check fall free. I'm not sad. I don't know why I'm
crying. Relief, I think. Or something. I don't know.

"If you don't let me breathe, I won't be," she says. "Alive, that is."

"Sorry," I say. I realize how tightly I'm squeezing her and loosen my grip. She pulls away a little,
smacking my shoulder.

"I TOLD you he was still alive," she says.

"What do you want, a cookie?" I ask, smirking.

"Maybe," she says, cocking an eyebrow. "Depends on the cookie. Now go on. Go get him. We can
talk about cookies when you get back."

"You'll be all right?" I ask.

"Of course," she says. She stands on her tip toes and I bend down, kissing her softly. "Be careful."

"Don't worry," I say, pulling away from her mouth. I kiss the end of her nose and then her
forehead.

"Go," she says, eyes darting toward the van.

I pull away taking a step towards the van. Then another. Before I know it, I'm running. I throw
open the door and hop inside. Y/N is at the window when I shut the door.

"You forgot the phone dumbass," she says, breathing hard. She ran after me apparently. Her eyes
wince.

Fuck. I forgot her leg. Dammit.

"Your leg," I say softly, furious with myself that I could be so inattentive. So unobservant. Did she
even take the meds? I don't think so.

"It's fine," she says.

"It's not," I say. "Have Scorpion look at it while I'm gone. Promise me."

She rolls her eyes, lips pinching in a flat line.

"I mean it," I say.

"Fine," she says, her tone sarcastic. "But don't blame me if I'm naked when you get back. I don't
seem to be able to control myself around people who doctor on me."

"Ha. Ha." I say, faking an unamused laugh. There's an odd feeling in my chest. "Wait... you're
kidding right?"

"Mostly," she says, shrugging. "But not entirely."

She hands me the phone and steps away from the van, blowing me a kiss. God, she's fucking cute.

I twist the key and put the van in gear as one of our people open the loading dock door. I take a last
glance at her in my rearview mirror, my heart swelling and say a prayer of thanks.

I'm not even a little bit religious. But Devon is alive and I have Y/N. I feel lucky. So incredibly
lucky. Now... I just have to keep them alive and safe.
 Y/N

I watch David drive away, my own eyes filling with tears. I'm so glad his brother's alive. I wrap my
arms around my body and let the tears fall. Devon's alive. Thank god. So many people died in the
bombing, some of my friends probably. We haven't received an official list yet and I can't contact
anyone that isn't on Anon's closed network.

I hear footsteps behind me. It's Scorpion. He walks up and stops next to me, hands in the pockets
of his... I don't know what they are. Not cargo pants or fatigues. But some kind of black military
looking pant with lots of pockets. He's wearing some kind of armored vest with pockets, a hoodie
and the mask, of course. This is the first time I've ever been close enough to see his eyes. Blue. As
if I needed ANOTHER thing...

I don't usually like for people to see me cry, but this doesn't feel the same. Maybe because there's
usually a level of vulnerability with sad or angry tears that isn't present now. I guess that's what it is
although I don't know for sure. I'd wanted to go with him, but decided he might want some time
alone with his brother.

"You're bleeding," Scorpion says, nodding down towards my leg.

Have you ever walked around with a cut or something that didn't really hurt until someone
mentioned it? Sure it had hurt a little, but now it REALLY hurts. Like almost unbearably. The
muscles spasm and I stumble. Scorpion catches me easily.

"Whoa," he says. "You better let me have a look at it."

"Yeah," I say, the word clipped as I grit my teeth in pain. "I was going to ask you."

Scorpion settles me and gives me his arm to bear most of my weight on. I look up at him,
wondering why the stupid mask is so hot. It's just a mask. Doesn't make the slightest bit of sense. It
is, admittedly, not as bad as when he uses the voice modulator like in the videos. That shit sent me.
Whew.

I take a few steps and my knee buckles. I stumble, almost falling, but Scorpion is there again to
catch me.

"That's enough of that, I think," he says, lifting me easily into his arms.

My head falls against his shoulder. I try to ignore the scent of his cologne. The way his pulse beats
at his neck, strong and sure. I don't know that I've ever seen someone's pulse beat before. Is it
because he's carrying me? Or some other reason? Why is he even wearing cologne? We are in the
middle of a war and this man is walking around with his stupid, sexy mask and cologne? It's crazy.

"Thank you," I say.

"It's no problem," Scorpion says.

He walks over to a chair and sets me down before heading to the supply shelves. I look around,
committing everything to memory. One day, if I live long enough, I'll be telling my grandkids
about this.

Scorpion returns with supplies. He touches my leg, just above the knee, with the back of his hand. I
realize that I'm still wearing David's clothes from yesterday. Is it only yesterday that we officially
met? It seems like so much has happened since then. Like more time has to have passed. This
whole year has felt like that. It seems like at least three years since everyone was up in arms about
J-Lo and Shakira's half-time performance. But THAT was FEBRUARY. What was January? The
Australian brush-fires? God, I can't even remember.

I feel sorry for the kids who learn about 2020 in school. Like at this point, they could just make up
some shit and put it in the essay. Teacher'd be like... yeah sure. That could have happened.

Scorpion snaps his fingers in front of my face and I realize I had dazed out.

"Your leg is hot and your attention span is... distracted at best," he says. "I think the wound is
infected."

"Well...," I say. "That doesn't sound good."

"It's not," he says. "I'm going to unwrap it. It's high on your thigh. Is it okay for me to touch you?"

I nod my head, appreciating that he'd asked.

He drops down to his knees in front of me and it's a little like de ja vu. But this time... with a mask.
Whew. Boy. I scoot down so my butt is barely on the chair and he can easily reach around my leg
to unwrap the gauze. I look at the boxers to be sure the edges are all laying flat against my skin
since there's nothing under neath them. I'm sure the edge of my ass is visible but there's nothing I
can do about that.

"This may hurt a little," Scorpion says, already unwrapping the gauze.

"You can't use the local?" I ask. "That's what David did before."

"The medical supply van is in another location until tomorrow," he says. "We have some supplies
here, but we took most of it with us to the protests."

"Well, shit," I say.

Scorpion unwraps the last few rows of gauze and my leg looks angry. It's swollen, purple and
blotchy with puss and blood coming from the wound between the stitches. I don't know what it is
about seeing it, but it hurts so much more now. So fucking much more.

"I'm gonna die," I say softly, looking at the leg.

"Naw," he says, his words sounding like he'd smiled behind the mask. "It's gonna hurt like a son of
a bitch, but you'll be okay."

He stands up and begins to unfasten his belt. My eyes feel trapped, watching his fingers. The barest
edge of smooth skin between his shirt and his pants is visible. A few hairs from his happy trail.
God. This is like an ad for horny housewives.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I ask, the words rushed and just a bit frantic.

"You're gonna want something to bite down on," he says. "I don't have anything else."

"Oh," I say, gulping. I nod my head and keep nodding, hypnotized by his graceful fingers and his
crotch which is directly in front of my face. He means the belt. Duh. He obviously means the belt.
"Okay."

Scorpion pulls the leather strap free and takes a step forward. God, he's so close now. The outline...
of his dick... is just inches away from my face.

"Open," he says as I lean back.

Open... open... his pants? my legs? I might be willing to open any damn thing. God, his dick is
ginormous and he's not even hard. Do these guys only accept people with monstrously large cocks?
Like how do they know...? Seriously...

"I'm sorry. What?" I ask, pulling away a little so I can look up at him. My tongue slides across my
suddenly dry lips.

"Your mouth," he says. "Open your mouth."

Oh... yeah. Of course. God... What is wrong with me.

I open my mouth and lick my lips, the action reflexive. I watch him swallow and then he pushes
the leather into my mouth. I bite down on it experimentally. Okay. That's not too bad.

"It's okay?" he asks.

I nod my head, a little bit of spit, leaking from the corner of my mouth. My hands clench on the
arms of the office chair. Scorpion drops back down, eye level with me now. He reaches for a bottle
and it looks like alcohol. I start to shake my head.

"I've got to," he says, twisting off the cap.

He doesn't count down. He doesn't wait. Scorpion pours the liquid on my leg and fire lights
through me, sharp and intense. He does it again and pushes on both sides of the wound. It hurts. It
hurts so bad. And then a huge... I don't even know what to call it... a huge drop of greenish, yellow
puss squeezes out from between the stitches. The odor of it turns my stomach. I gag once but
manage to control it as he wipes it away with a piece of gauze.

"You're doing great," he says, looking into my eyes.

I shake my head then. I don't feel great. I feel awful.

"Yes, you are," he says. "Let's go again."

He doesn't wait for me to agree. Just grabs the alcohol and pours. This time is worse than last time.
My eyes clench shut and I scream with the belt in my mouth, muffling the sound. He presses on my
leg again, effectively squeezing the infection away.

"Keep breathing," he says. "Nice and slow."

I hadn't realized I'd stopped. I suck in a shaky breath past the leather belt, a fresh wash of tears
falling down my face. God damn this hurts. My fingers clench so tightly on the chair. I'm afraid if I
let go I will punch him or push him away. Anything to make it stop. I know he needs to do this, but
fuck it hurts.

I open my eyes and watch as Scorpion wipes the grossness off my thigh with a fresh piece of gauze.
He pulls my flesh apart, just the tiniest amount because of the stitches. Fuck me, this HURTS. I
think I want to die. He pours the alcohol directly into the wound I scream, biting on the thick
leather belt and beat the arm of the chair with my fist. My breathing is fast. So fast. I lean forward,
letting the belt fall out of my mouth onto my lap.
"I can't," I pant. "I can't take anymore. I can't."

"Just one more time," he says, he brushes sweaty tendrils of hair from my forehead. I don't
remember starting to sweat but I guess I did. "You're doing great."

I start to cry. Not the stoic tears I've been crying. But whiney, borderline pathetic, sobby tears. I
hiccup and can't catch my breath.

"Please," I beg. "P-pl-lease. I really can't."

"Shhhh," he says. "I know it hurts. But you're almost done. You're so close. Let me finish, or it will
all have been for nothing and we'll be doing this again in a couple days. You don't want that right?"

"Fuck you," I bite out from between clenched teeth. Asshole. Okay, he's probably right. But still.
"Fine. Do it."

"That's a good girl," he says. "Do you want the belt back?"

"JUST DO IT," I yell, afraid I will lose my nerve. I'm so close to it already.

He takes me at my word, squeezing one last time. I bite down on my lips and beat the chair with
my fist. This time, there is no puss. Deep breaths. Just keep breathing. You're almost done.
Scorpion pours the alcohol into the wound again.

I curse him out, calling him every four letter word in existence and making up some that I've never
even heard before. He smears some antibiotic ointment on it, covering it with a large bandage then
wrapping it with a fresh piece of gauze. When he finishes, he pulls me into a hug.

"Shhhhhh," he says, the sound rumbling through his chest. "You did it. You did great."

I let him comfort me and break down. I don't have to be strong anymore. Its over. I can cry and
whimper and no one's going to judge me or call me a pussy. Not that Scorpion would have done
that before. No, he seems nice.

But really... does his cologne HAVE to smell so good? Like what the actual fuck dude?

I take a deep breath, pulling the scent deep inside.

"We're back," David says.

Scorpion pulls away from me quickly, as if he'd been kissing me or worse. I too feel guilty, so I
guess it's understandable.

David looks between us, a curious look on his face.

"Nothing happened," Scorpion says.

"He fixed my leg," I say at the same time.

I'm surprised they are back so soon. I figured he would be gone longer. Or maybe I just have a
really crappy sense of time when I'm in pain. Totally possible. I also wonder how in the world I
managed not to hear the door open or them calling with their code. How had I missed all of that?

"Good," David says. "I'm glad."

Glad nothing happened or glad he fixed my leg? Both maybe.

"Devon, come here," David says, gesturing. "I want you to meet someone."

Devon is at the wall of computers, evidently able to decipher some of it. He is part of Anonymous
after all so he's much better suited to that than me. He looks over, walking slowly towards me.

"Devon, this is Y/N," David says. "Y/N... Devon."

I hold out my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," I say.

Devon grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug, putting his mouth next to my ear.

"David really likes you," he whispers. "That's good. I'm glad. I want him to be happy. But if you
hurt him... you and me - we're gonna play a different kind of game and you won't like it. Nod if
you understand."

I nod slowly, gulping.

"Excellent," he says softly.

He pulls me closer into him, really hugging me before releasing me.

"It's nice to meet you Y/N," Devon says. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you."

"Yeah," I say. "Me too.

What a day...
 David

"You just haddddd to make an entrance," Stéphan (Scorpion) says.

He walks over and clasps Devon's hand in classic bro fashion, pulling him in and clapping him on
his back a few times.

"Ow," Devon says. "Watch it, man. Ribs. Arm. I'm like broken over here."

"You DO look like shit," Stéphan says.

"Well a building fell on me soooo...," he says, shrugging.

Stéphan shakes his head, glancing around.

"Listen to this guy," he says. "A building... more like a few rocks. Maybe a brick or two. Shame
none of em landed on your head. Might knock some sense into ya."

"Funny," Devon says, rolling his eyes. "I got shot too, you know."

"Speaking of which, she needs antibiotics and pain meds," Stéphan says, nodding at Y/N. "And
sleep. Real actual uninterrupted, sleep. I'm surprised she's even still standing. Now SHE's been
through it. Not like Mr. Exaggeration over here."

"Don't listen to them," Y/N says. "They're really glad you're okay. We were all... well... it was a
completely different vibe after the bombing."

"Dammit," Stéphan says. "Don't tell him. Have you seen how big his head is already?"

"The medicine is in the bag I brought with us," I say. "Devon will need some too I'm sure."

"I'll get it," Y/N says.

She walks away slowly with a slight limp, leaving the three of us standing in a little circle.

"How bad are your injuries?" Stéphan asks, turning to Devon. "What do you need?"

"I'll live," Devon says. "I need someone to look at my arm. Maybe a few stitches. I'll wrap the
knee. It won't be a hundred percent for awhile, but I don't think I need surgery. The ribs - pretty
sure they're broke. I think I'm down for a few weeks at least."

"Better than dead," I say.

"Oh for sure," Devon says. "I just need to take a shower and then someone can stitch me up. Might
need a little help getting out of my gear. I used the liquid bandaid shit and a makeshift tourniquet to
get the bleeding to stop, but I probably glued myself to my gear."

"I'll do it," Stéphan says. "If Y/N hasn't passed out yet, it might be good for her to watch. We need
as many people with first aid training as possible."

"Yeah, sure," I say, looking over my shoulder to where she's walking back. She looks so tired. I've
lost count of how many times I've made her come when what she really needs is rest. But Stéphan
is right. She should watch if she's able. If she feels like it. "I'll ask her."
I walk over to her, taking the medicine out of her hands and giving her an arm to hold onto. She
looks up at me, her eyes grateful. I lean down to kiss her forehead, but she rises on her tip toes,
giving me her mouth instead. I try to make it a quick little peck, but she pulls me down, holding me
to her. My arms wrap around her and I kiss her the way I want to. Deep and thorough.

"What was that for?" I ask when our lips part.

"I just figure things are going to be crazy for a little while with your brother back," she says. "I
know he's injured and I imagine there would be a hundred thousand things to do besides. I don't
know when I'll have a chance to kiss you this way again."

"You need to stop being adorable," I say. "You're like my kryptonite."

"I'll have to remember that," she says.

"Scorpion wants you to watch him stitch up Devon if you feel up to it," I say. "I know you're
probably exhausted, but if we had another person that could do stitches, that would be huge."

"Sure," she says. "If someone could bring a chair over for me, it would be easier. My leg is killing
me."

"Yeah, of course baby," he says. "I had planned on that. I only let you walk this far because I
figured you wanted to be independent."

"Well, kind of, I guess," she says. "Mostly I figured you all might need some time to discuss
whatever secret stuff you don't want me to know. Besides, it's a little late for independence.
Scorpion ended up carrying me earlier when my leg quit on me."

"Oh," I say. "Yeah... We didn't talk about any 'secret stuff'.

It hasn't escaped my notice that Y/N has been responding to Stéphan. Or he to her. I keep trying to
convince myself to be jealous, but I'm not. It hadn't even bothered me when Devon joked that he
would take her from me which doesn't really make sense. No idea what that's about so like
everything I don't want to think about... I throw it in a box in the back of my brain.

I open the pills and shake out the ones she needs to take, pocketing the rest. Y/N opens her mouth,
a look of pure devilishness in her eyes as she looks up at me. That isn't helping me to control my
urges at ALL. I put the pills in her mouth and she sips from the bottle of water she brought along.
She swallows and I try not to watch her throat move, try not to think about how it had looked as
she sucked my dick.

She makes a little moan when I bend down and pick her up.

"I like when you carry me," she says. "It makes me feel... I don't know. Something."

A sense of peace or security or something I don't have a name for fills me when she snuggles into
my neck. She's so fucking cute. Kryptonite. For sure.

"I like carrying you," I respond. "It makes me feel strong, protective, trusted."

"Mmmm," she moans. "Yes, you're all of those things. But mostly loved."

She curls into a ball, her head buried in my throat, like she could sleep if I would just let her stay
this way long enough. Fuck. I can't with her. I don't know what I'm doing but it has something to do
with her. Y/N is driving me crazy with her sweetness. Just like she does with her sex and with her
stubborn, fiery temper. I love it all.
 Y/N

The spray from the shower hits my body and I instantly begin to relax. I had thought I wouldn't be
able to take a real shower but David wrapped my thigh with plastic wrap to keep the dressing dry. I
lean against the wall, filled with an overwhelming sense of weariness. It's so deep, so
encompassing that I begin to cry.

So much has happened. Six months ago I was in college. My biggest worry was whether I would
get the dorm room or classes I wanted. Now, I've somehow become part of a revolution and while
I'm just a bit part, it feels big. I've been shot. I'm essentially on the run. I think I've joined
Anonymous. If it's even possible to join Anonymous.

There's so much pressure. What if I'm not enough? I mean what am I really contributing? Some
words? A protest sign? That's just lame. What if David realizes I'm a nobody? He's a hero. A literal
hero. He saved my life and many others. But I'm just a girl.

And what the fuck is happening with Scorpion? I'm not a cheater. I've never been someone that
cheats. But I find myself thinking absolutely wicked things about him if I don't actively stop
myself. What does that mean?

As the water washes my tears away, they gradually slow, then stop. I grab the washcloth David had
given me and lather it with his body wash. The smell teases my nostrils, like in old cartoons. I raise
the washcloth to my face and inhale deeply. Dear god. This is what he will smell like after his
shower.

I start with my neck, massaging away the little aches and pains, wincing when the soap and water
come in contact with scratches or scrapes. Even with the little hurts, I think this might be the best
shower I've ever had.

"Let me help you with that," David says, his voice close behind me.

I let out a little yelp, startled to find him so close.

"You'll get wet" I say, handing him the wash cloth.

"Not before you do," he says, winking.

"I'm already wet, dummy," I say, grinning. "I'm in the shower."

"Not that kind of wet," he says.

"How do you know I wasn't wet before you got here?" I ask, enjoying the banter.

"Were you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I smirk, my eyes narrowing.

"No," I say, faking a sullenness I don't feel. "Asking is cheating."

"Oh?" he says, adding more soap to the washcloth.

"You could touch me and find out," I say, desire making me bold.

"Patience," David says. "I will. But right now, let me do this."
"Okay," I say.

He soaps my entire back, starting at the nape of my neck and moving down. When he's washed
every inch, he begins to massage my shoulders. A throaty moan issues past my lips as his strong
hands work my sore muscles.

Someone clears their throat but I don't think I care. I had thought being in a bathroom with other
people would be weird, but I'm enjoying myself too much to care. My eyes lift, finding Scorpion's
two showers down. I watch him undress as David rubs my back and I lose the battle with the devil
on my shoulder. I know I should turn away, but I don't. I can't.

Scorpion still wears the mask, but his shirt is gone, revealing wide shoulders, strong arms and a
narrow, athletic waist. I suck in a breath as he unbuttons his pants. Watch as the V is slowly
unveiled. I hold my breath when he stops, his fingers stalling. He's watching me as I watch him. He
knows what he's doing to me. I bite my lip and look up into his eyes.

Is the heat in my eyes evident from two showers away? I don't know. I don't know how I look. I
wonder briefly how much of this David is picking up on. I try to feel guilty, but can't seem to get
past the idea of it.

"Such a bad girl," David says, his lips against my ear. "I bet you're dripping wet now."

I shake my head, knowing it's a lie.

"Liar," David says, his lips moving against my neck now, teeth grazing and sending little shivers
down my spine.

I intend to respond. I intend to do something to distract myself from Scorpion. Anything. But I
waited too long, he lets the pants fall, pushing his boxers with them.

He's naked. Well, except for the mask. Naked and so fucking dangerous. I can't help the little gasp
I make, nor the little moan that follows.

Scorpion. Is. Divine.

As in god-like. Not made by human hands. Angelic and devilish. Fuck.

"Tell the truth and I'll let you come," David whispers, his hand sliding down my side, tracing the
curve of my hip then across my belly, coming to rest just above my aching cunt. "Do you want
him?"

Oh god. Is this a trick question? It has to be. I bite my lip, replaying his words. There was no
jealousy. No anger. Right? Maybe it's not a trick.

Scorpion moves into the spray from his shower and my mouth goes dry. I watch as he moves his
hands over his body. Watch as the water traces all those muscles. Fucking water. Why the fuck am
I jealous of the god damned water?

"Say it," David says. "You want him."

This can't be real. Can't be happening. I'm dreaming. Or dead. This can't possibly be reality. I want
to say it. But what if it is a trick? Will I lose David if I'm honest?

It is at this moment that Scorpion slides his hand along his cock. His hard... massive... beautiful...
cock. I let out a small sob, my thighs clenching together.
"Yes," I whisper, my teeth clenched. "Yes, I want him."

"And me?" David asks, fingers dipping down to tease my clit. "You want me too?"

My legs begin to shake, fingernails clenching into my palms. God, it feels so good. So fucking
good. He slides a finger through my slick folds, pushing it inside me before drawing my wetness
back up to my clit.

"Yes, David," I moan.

Scorpion is watching me. I'm watching him as he strokes his pretty dick. And David's touching
me. Somehow, this moment is the most erotic thing I've ever experienced. Hell... ever thought of.

"You want us both?" David asks.

I can't speak, nodding instead, as I watch Scorpion lather his dick, the soap sliding off his hard and
veiny length.

If this is a trick, it sure doesn't feel like one. I'm so close to coming, holding back only to listen for
a trace of recrimination or judgment. I wait for him to call me a whore or a slut. For him to pull
away from me in disgust. He doesn't.

"Then both you shall have," David says, fingers flying back and forth across my clit. "You're gonna
wrap your pretty lips around my cock while he fucks you. Come with me so deep down your throat
you think you might die."

"Yes," I scream. "God, yes."

I come harder than I ever have as David plants the idea in my mind. An idea I will never be free of.
Maybe I am a whore. I don't think I care. I want it. I want it so bad the very idea sends another
wave of orgasm washing over me.

"That's my good girl," David says. He lifts me up, wrapping my legs around him as he buries
himself inside me. "You want it don't you. Need it."

My eyes roll back as my pussy clenches around him, the strain of his dick making room inside me
notching up the last ebbs of orgasm. My pelvis jerks.

"Please," I beg, wanton now.

"It's not me you have to beg," David says, thrusting into me as he pushes my back against the
shower wall. There's no where to go. No way to escape as he pounds into me hard and fast.

"Call him," David says. "Beg him to fuck your tight little pussy."

"We need a condom," I say. "I've missed a day."

"You're killing me," David growls. He pulls out of me, lifting me off the wall. His arms wrap
around me as he carries me over to Scorpions shower.

"Hold this," he says, pushing me into Scorpion's arms. "I'll be right back."

I look up at Scorpion, his eyes hungry through the mask's little slits. God damn, he's hot. And
naked. He's hot and naked and I can't think.

"Am I dreaming?" I ask, voicing the dominant thought in my brain.

"God, I hope not," he says, lifting the edge of the mask so he can kiss me. My eyes flutter closed as
he takes my mouth. I cry out, the sound smothered by his lips against mine. "Close your eyes. No
peeking."

I obey and his mouth trails down my throat. Biting and kissing my collarbone. My chest. I scream
when he bites my nipple. Bites it hard, so hard. I knew he would be this way. Rough and hard.
Knew he would fuck me like he hated me. I don't know how I knew but the reality pales in
comparison to my imagination.

"No. Peeking."

The muffled command is issued as my eyelids flutter with my subconscious desire to see him. I
instantly clamp them closed and he bites my other nipple.

"Oh god," I cry, overwhelmed yet wanting more.

"Please Scorpion," I beg. There's a voice in the back of my mind wondering why that isn't the most
ridiculous thing I've ever said but I can't seem to care.

"Please what?" he asks. "Tell me what you want."

"Fuck," I say, my breath catching as he bites just above my navel. "More. Everything. I want
everything."

"I wanted to let you sleep," he says, his lips moving against my belly. "But I can't very well deny a
lady's request. Keep your eyes closed."

"Yes, sir," I say, the designation falling from my lips unbidden.

"Did I say you could call me that?" he asks, smacking my ass.

"No," I say. "I'm sorry. It just slipped out."

Scorpion pushes me against the wall, of the shower, propping me up as he spreads my legs. He
drops down in front of me. The sound of the shower changes as water is redirected. It hits me - a
thousand kisses cascading down my skin.

"Say please," he says.

"Oh god, please Scorpion," I moan.

His fingers slide inside me as his mouth closes on my clit. Holy shiiiiiiit.

"Oh my god," I say, knees weakening as a tremble takes me. "God dammit... how are you all so
fucking good at that. Is it part of the training? Jeezus."

I can feel his mouth smile against me. His fingers stall inside me.

"You like it."

It's a statement, not a question but I answer anyway.

"Yes."

"Then come for me," he says, sucking my clit as he shoves two fingers inside me hitting my g-spot
over and over again.
"I'm close," I say. "So close. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"Tsk, tsk," David says from the doorway. "I didn't say you could come did I?"

I sob, the idea of holding back making me physically ache.

"N-no," I whine. "David please."

"Uh-oh," Scorpion says. "Seems someones being bad."

He never stops finger fucking me. Keeps sucking and licking at my clit. Its delicious torture.

"Please, I'm sorry," I whine. "Please let me come David. I'll be good. I'll be so good."

"There you go again," David says, the sound of his voice getting closer. "You are so fucking sexy
when you beg.

I whimper, my body getting the better of me. He grips my throat, turning my head to the side so he
can kiss me. All the while Scorpion continues between my legs.

Two men. Two mouths. So very different. I am dying, my skin igniting where they touch me.
Burning like a Phoenix flame.

I don't know what's going to rise from the ashes of this night. But at this point... I don't really care.
Now... I want it all. If they burn me up like a candle at both ends I don't care. I want
EVERYTHING.
 Stéphan

"Look at you," David says. "All flushed and damp. Do you know how sexy you are right now?
You're trembling. So close to coming you'd probably do it on command if I let you."

"Please, David," Y/N says. "I can't take it. Please let me come."

"What do you think Scorpion?" David asks. "Shall we give her what she wants."

"Not yet," I say, reaching up to pinch her nipple as David fondles the other.

"Oh god," she sobs, her hips thrusting against my fingers. "Please. I'll do anything."

"We need a bed," I say, ignoring her request.

I want her to come on my dick. God. Even the idea has pre-cum dripping from my cock. She's so
wet and tight. Fuck.

"The only beds are bunk beds," David says. "That's not gonna work."

"Sure it will," I say. "You'll see."

I look up at Y/N, her eyes clenched as she tries to catch her breath. Fuck. I can't believe I'm here
with her right now. And David. We're sharing a woman. His woman. I don't know what that means.
I don't know what we're doing. And right now I don't care. I'll figure it out later. I'm just happy to
be here with them both. I pull the mask back down over my face.

"Open your eyes, princess," I say. "Look at me."

Y/N's eyes flutter open. She looks down at me, her gaze hazy. God. I did that to her. I put that look
in her eyes. It's so fucking sexy I can't stand it. I really had meant for her to get some sleep tonight
but now I don't see how any of us will. I'm not sure I care about that either.

"I want to lay you out on a bed so I can fuck you," I say. "I want to be inside you. Want to feel your
pussy clench each time David slides down your throat. Feel you milk my cock as you come,
spasming around my dick. You good with that?"

My words affect her. The idea of it catching her breath in her throat and that's god damned
intoxicating. Knowing I can make her body clench with just words, that I'm in her head. I love it. I
fucking love everything about it. I haven't felt like this in... God, I don't even know.

"Yesssss," she hisses from between clenched teeth as my thumb strokes her clit, two fingers still
inside her. She nods, biting her lip, the movement choppy as her body trembles. "God, please, yes."

"You'll have to make sure the room is empty," David says. "I already did my good deed for the
day."

He produces a handful of condoms. I smile behind the mask.

"Check the room and I'll give you a raise," I say, joking. "Double your salary."

"Remind me again what's double of nothing?" David quips.

"Fine," I say, pulling away from Y/N and standing. I take her hand and put it on my cock. I wipe
the pre-cum from the tip and hold it in front of her mouth. She strokes me and opens her mouth,
licking my finger. "Be a good girl while I'm gone. No coming."

"What happens if I do?" she asks, stroking me again.

My eyes close in bliss and I can't help the little growl from my throat.

"Bad girls get punished," David says, beating me to the punch.

She looks at him and then back at me.

"Maybe I want to be punished," she says.

She reaches out and grabs David's dick, stroking both of us now. It may be the sexiest thing I've
ever seen.

I pull my dick out of her hand and spin her around, effectively pulling her away from David as
well. I push her against the shower wall, letting my dick twitch at her gasp as the front of her body
came in contact with the cold tile wall. I lift her arms, holding them above her head with one hand
and slap her ass with the other.

God. She has no idea what she's doing to me. Watching her ass jiggle, seeing the red mark from my
hand spring up. She lets out a little moan and I realize we've been too gentle with her. She wants it
rough. She likes it. I smack her again, harder, this time.

"I'm going to get a bed ready for us," I say, my lips next to her ear, voice low and husky. "David is
going to spank you while I'm gone since you obviously NEED to be punished. And when I get
back, if your pussy cream hasn't dripped down to your knees, you won't get to come for the rest of
the night. We'll see how much you really want it."

I feel her shudder against me, know I just won another point.

"Oh god," she whines, her voice hitching, breaths shallow. "Scorpion?"

"Yes," I say, rubbing my hand over her ass, already warming from the swats.

"You better hurry," she says, cheekily. "It's already halfway there. At this rate, I'll drip to my
ankles."

I laugh, caught off guard by her humor. She's fun. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a sexual
experience more and I haven't even fucked her yet.

"I'm gonna enjoy making you scream," I whisper.

Y/N's eyes roll back in her head and she moans, no doubt adding to the mess in her creamy cunt.

POV SHIFT - David

I watch as Stéphan pushes her, teases her, spanks her. It's stupid hot. I don't know how we got to
this place, sharing a woman, but I'm not mad about it. Not even a little. It would have taken me
months to get to this point with Y/N. Maybe longer. I'd have been afraid of pushing her too far
Afraid I'd make her leave.

Scorpion has no such qualms. Maybe he thinks this is the only chance he will get. Maybe it is. I've
never shared a woman before. Not sexually or any other way. I don't know if I know how. I shake
my head, recriminating myself. This line of thought can wait. Boxes.
"I'm gonna enjoy making you scream," he whispers.

Y/N moans and my dick flexes. Fuck. I don't know what's hotter, listening to Stéphan play with her
mind or the sounds she makes when he does.

He steps away and I take his place, I have to bend down a little, but that doesn't bother me.

"Such a naughty girl," I say. "Naughty girl with a naughty pussy. Look at how messy you are. Girl
goo dripping down your thighs like a dirty little whore."

"David," she says, her voice breathy. "God. You're killing me."

I swat her ass, a loud crack echoing around the room. I see Scorpion pulling on boxers from the
corner of my eye.

"Do you want me to stop?" I ask, drawing little circles on the hand print with my fingertips, just the
barest touch.

She gulps, shaking her head.

"What was that?" I ask. "I couldn't hear you."

"No," she says, licking her lips. "Please don't stop."

I smack her again, three times in quick succession and she lets out a gasp. Fuck me, she's hot.
Molten. I rub her ass, sliding my fingers down her crack, skimming over her anus and pushing
inside her pussy. God, she's soaked. I pull my fingers out and lift them to her mouth, smearing her
juices on her lips.

"Such a messy, hungry pussy," I say. "Can you taste how needy you are? How desperate you are to
come? To have a cock inside you?"

"Yes," she says, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. I watch as she tastes herself, her tongue
licking the corner. God, even that goes straight to my dick. Teasing her is a double edged sword if
ever there was.

I smack her again, very hard this time. She cries out, clenching her thighs together.

"David please," she begs. "Please."

"Please what?" I ask.

"I-I don't know," she responds.

"You can't come or you'll be in even worse trouble," I say, smacking her again.

"Oh god, please," she says. "I need you. Please fuck me."

"You think you deserve to be fucked?" I say, swatting her several times, hitting the same place.
"You're the one who said you wanted to be punished. Are you not enjoying the punishment you
practically begged for?"

"I love it," she says. "I hate it and I love it."

I can't help the grin I get at that. From sexy to cute to sexy again.
I bend down, enough that I can touch the head of my dick to her slit.

"David, god," she cries. "Do it. Please."

I slide my dick along her slit. The angle isn't right for fucking, but this... Oh it's perfect for this. My
cock slides along her slick slit, rubbing against her swollen clit. She tries to press closer, push her
pussy into my cock and find the pressure or friction she needs, but that too is out of reach.

"Such a poor, needy pussy," I growl. "So wet and hungry."

"David," she says, the whine gone now. "I swear to god if you don't put your fucking dick in me
I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what princess," Stéphan asks from the door. "You need it that bad?"

"Yes, I need it," she says, her voice raised. "Please. There's two dicks here and none of them are
inside me."

"Be careful what you wish for princess," Stéphan says.

I stroke my dick against her clit again before pulling away. Stephen strides over, grabbing Y/N and
turning her around.

"Spread your legs," he says, squatting down.

Y/N complies immediately, keeping most of her weight on her good foot.

He traces her pussy cream, down each thigh, with one finger, making her shiver. I watch,
mesmerized as he bends down and bites the side of her knee, licking at the evidence of her desire. I
watch her response, as he repeats the process on the other leg.

"Such a very good girl," he says. He grabs the condoms off the floor and stands, taking her hand. I
take the other and we walk together out of the bathroom. No one bothers with clothes. We'll come
back for them later.

"So how is this going to work exactly?" I ask. We walk into the bunk area and I see the makeshift
set up, the logistics immediately apparent. "Never mind. I get it."

This is gonna be perfect.

 Y/N

I'd like to claim temporary insanity for what's come over me, but the truth is, I'd do it again. All of
it. I'm not ashamed. I'm about to fuck two of the hottest dudes I've ever seen in real life. One of
whom I'm in love with.

I never in a million years would have dreamed this was possible. It's so far out of my comfort zone
that it's not something I've even fantasized about. Although, after today... even if we stopped right
now... I don't see how I will ever be able to stop thinking about it.

My body is humming, every nerve activated, every cell alive. That's it. That's what I'm really
feeling. I... feel... ALIVE. I don't know if it's all the orgasms or the spanking but I feel grounded
and present in the world in a way I NEVER have before.

Scorpion pulls me out of David's grip with a slight tug and shoves me onto the bottom bunk of a
bed. The way he pushed me tightens things low in my belly. I am changing, or maybe I have
always been this way without knowing it. I read the fifty shades books but they never did much for
me so I assumed I wasn't wired for this. WRONG.

I'd taunted Scorpion in the bathroom on a whim. I was trying to be witty. And then he spanked me.
That first slap against my ass had shocked me. It had hurt. Of course it had hurt. It would have
been strange if it didn't hurt. But it was a good kind of hurt. That sounds crazy, even in my own
head, but it WAS.

Scorpion had given me a taste. A sip. David gave me a little more, increasing the shock. Upping
the pain factor. And I fucking loved it. My ass is still throbbing and every pulse sends a beat to my
clit. I feel warm and relaxed while also being alert and primed. My pussy... well... I'm legitimately
embarrassed by how wet I am. I need more. I need to come, to fuck, to feel.

I need THEM.

I had a taste. I had a sip. Now, give me the fucking meal. Like seriously. I need it. I need all of it.

Scorpion crawls onto the bed, straddling my waist as he grabs my hand. He winds a strip of cloth
around my wrist and ties it in a knot. I lift my other hand, mirroring the one he bound.

"You want this," he says.

It sounds like a statement, but it feels like a question. I answer it without hesitation.

"Yes," I say. "I want it."

David settles himself on the floor by my head. There's a pillow there. He slides his hand against my
cheek, cupping my jaw with his thumb, his long fingers teasing the nape of my neck. I love his
hands. They're so big and I feel small and dainty when he touches me.

"You're sure?" David asks. "You won't be able to talk with my dick in your mouth."

"If you're trying to scare me, you can stop," I say. "I'm not scared of you. If I'd had enough
imagination to fantasize about being tied up and helpless while the two of you fuck me, I would
have. Turns out... that's stupid hot. So... yeah, I'm sure. Although... just putting it out there... YOU
still owe me... YOU were supposed to get tied up first."
He smiles, a dark, devilish smile that gives me goosebumps.

"You have no idea how I'm looking forward to that," he says.

He leans forward, his hand sliding down my neck and against the side of my breast, pinching the
nipple. My eyes close and a tiny whimper escapes my mouth. God. Damn.

"Even if I bring Scorpion?" I ask, nonchalant.

"Do you want to?" he asks.

"Maybe," I say.

"You're full of surprises," he says.

I laugh. I can't help it.

"Uh... pot... kettle?" I say, nodding my head towards Scorpion with my eyebrows pinched.

"Fair point," he says, winking at me with this adorable boyishness that somehow melds with the
darkness in his gaze. "I guess I am as surprised as you by that development. I didn't plan it. It just
happened. But if you want to bring Scorpion... bring him."

Scorpion lifts the mask, just a little, enough to expose his mouth and bends down, kissing me as he
wraps my other hand. I realize he'd been waiting for David's response as much as me. And now he
knows he's welcome. He licks my mouth and pulls away, readjusting the mask. Our eyes meet and
for once, I wish the mask was gone. Wish I could read his face.

"Enough, talking," Scorpion says.

He gets off the bed and grabs me under both knees. My body jerks as he positions me sideways
across the mattress. Let me just tell you... I am visually overwhelmed. The mask. His body. His
fucking arms and chest. I moan as he spreads my legs, his hands pressing on my thighs. He watches
me through the little slits of the mask.

"You're so fucking sexy," he says, grabbing one of the condoms. I watch him rip the gold packet
with his teeth as he strokes his dick. My mouth is watering. I can't breathe. He's going to fuck me
and I want it. God, I want it. Ache for it. I bite my lip, heart racing as I watch him roll the condom
down his long length. My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips.

I pull my hands where they're bound by the little strips of what I can only assume is a cut up sheet.
I can barely move. There's only a little bit of give, an inch maybe. I've never been tied up. I don't
know what I imagined it to be. I'd thought it would feel scary, that the helplessness would be
frightening. It isn't. It's exciting and frustrating but not scary.

Scorpion drops to his knees on the little pillow that had been there when we walked up. One on his
side. Another near my head. This is happening. They're really going to fuck me. The both of them.
God.

I watch as Scorpion runs his dick along my slit. He touches the tip to my clit, and I pull my knees
back, spreading my legs further. I hold my breath, waiting for him to push inside me but he doesn't.
He looks at David.

"God, please," I beg.

I can't describe what it's like. Standing on that edge. So close. I don't have the words. My clit throbs
and I lift my hips unconsciously, trying to... I don't know, get closer, more pressure, something.

"Not yet," he says, slapping his dick against my clit.

I moan, both in frustrated anticipation and pleasure at the contact. And then I understand. I hear
David move. I lift my head, so I can see him above me. His dick touches the side of my face and I
turn my head to lick the tip. I can't reach it enough to pull him into my mouth, but I kiss and lick at
his cock.

David shifts his hips, and I drop my head back, my mouth opening. His dick is right there.
Touching my lips, but nothing more. I make a sound. It's a primal sound. Guttural and
indescribable. I need them. I need this. Please. The longer they wait, the more convinced I am that
it isn't going to happen.

It seems forever passes. I pull at my bounds, frustrated that I can't move. Can't push one of them
inside me. Even the tiniest little bit and whatever is holding them back would be gone. I can't see
either one. My entire vision is David's cock, just out of reach. I whimper and groan, silently
begging. Please don't stop. I need this. I need it so much. God.

They move in unison. David pushes his dick into my mouth and Scorpion inside my pussy. Yes.
Finally. Yes.

Fuckkkkkkkkk.

Scorpion pushes back on my thighs, shoving himself deep inside me in one motion. He stretches
me, his monster dick filling me up until I don't know if I can take any more. And then I don't care.
Because David is adjusting the angle of my head and pushing into my throat. Holy. Fucking. Fuck.

I forget how to think. I forget everything but pleasure and dick. So much dick. I've never taken
anyone so deep down my throat. I didn't know I could. My pussy creams, clenching around
Scorpion.

"So fucking hot," he says, pulling out of me and then thrusting deep. David mirrors him and I am
lost to sensation. I don't know if I breathe. My moans are smothered with David's dick and I'm so
close to coming already. We only just started but all of the pressure and intensity that's been
building since the shower washes over me.

My pussy aches and throbs, squeezing as Scorpion fucks me, hard and fast. His dick is not as long
as David's but it's thicker, girthier. Which is saying something because David's dick is fucking
ginormous. I wouldn't have believed I could actually swallow it, but I am and it is incredible.

"Oh god," David says, pulling himself slowly out of my mouth. I kiss the tip and give it a little lick
before he pushes back into my throat. I gag a little, but it's manageable. I can take it. Oh god, I'm
really fucking taking it.

My legs start to shake when Scorpion presses the heel of his hand against my clit and pounds into
my pussy. Something about the angle and the pressure... Almost. Don't stop. Don't stop.

I explode, screaming my orgasm around David's dick, hands pulling at the restraints as I convulse.
I realize in that moment, that they were both holding back. That my orgasm gave them permission.
As I spasm and gag and fucking DIE from pleasure, they stop holding back. Fucking me hard and
fast with precision.

It's So. Fucking. Good.

My orgasm never seems to stop. Every sensation magnified. They are amazing. Perfect. God. I
don't think I'll ever get over this experience. It's... it's... fuck.

"Fuck," David groans. "Your mouth... God... Can I come... in your mouth...?"

His thrusts falter and I try to nod, but I can't. I moan, and hope it's enough.

"Not YET," Scorpion growls, the sound sending goosebumps all over me. "Don't you fucking
dare."

Oh my god. Did... did what I think just happen... happen? Is Scorpion talking to David? He has to
be. Fuck. I come again, the idea of Scorpion topping both of us throwing mental images in my head
that I can't even begin to understand.

Scorpion slams into me now. So fucking fast and hard. I scream but it's muffled. I'm gonna die. I'm
really gonna die. Oh god. Fucking kill me. Just don't stop.

"I can't...," David says, his voice sounding clipped, like he's speaking through clenched teeth. I can
barely hear it over the sounds of skin hitting skin. "I can't hold it."

"Almost," Scorpion says. "Just wait. I'm almost there. God, Y/N you take it so good.
Fuckkkkkkkk. NOW, David. Come now."

I don't know what pushes me back over the edge, but I come AGAIN. We all come together in
what seems like an endless fucking orgasm. It's like all our orgasms feed on each other, pushing
higher from the spasms of the other. David shoves so deep down my throat, his balls smother my
nose. I can't breathe and I don't care. In this moment... if I die, I die. His cock swells in my mouth
and he pulls back before shoving himself all the way down again. I feel him come and it just
makes me spasm harder.

God damn.

Scorpion gives a final thrust and collapses across my chest, his body angled to the side. David pulls
out of my mouth and sits back on his feet. He falls onto my shoulder, breathing hard. I am too.
Hell, all of us are.

We stay that way for a long while. I keep having some kind of aftershock orgasm, my body
spasming for no reason at all. Everything tingles.

"Are we dead?" I ask, when I can manage to speak. "Cause... I think I'm in heaven.
 David

I blink a few times, gradually coming awake. Y/N is tucked in the crook of my arm. Stéphan is
sleeping on the other side, his arm draped over us both fingertips entwined with hers where they
rest on my stomach. Is that weird? I don't know. Maybe. Do I care? I don't think I do. I think it
feels... strangely right somehow.

Okay, not right entirely. This bed is way too fucking small. But aside from that, I don't think I have
a problem with it. I think maybe I have a bigger problem with the fact that I DON'T have a problem
with it. It seems like something I, as a purely hetero male, SHOULD have a problem with.

I guess maybe the question becomes am I purely hetero? I've always thought myself to be. But
maybe I'm not. I shake my head. That's too heavy to think about before coffee. Maybe it's toxic
masculinity. Girls cuddle all the time. But that doesn't explain what happened last night.

Dammit... why am I even thinking about this right now?

...

Because we're all in this bed together and I want to do it again. My dick is hard. I'm horny. And last
night... fuck... that was... that was x games mode. Like... legit. I shift, just a little trying to decide if
I would rather fuck or pee. Y/N stirs, pressing her breasts against me as she stretches her back. She
makes a little sound of pleasure and my dick flexes. Yep. I'd definitely rather fuck.

I turn my head to look at her and notice that Stéphan is also awake. We make eye contact as he
drags her hand still entwined with his fingers down. I swallow and look at them. Their fingers
tickle as they dip below my belly button. I shiver. Umm... uh....

...

Fuck...

...

My brain shuts down when Stéphan lifts her hand and places it on my dick, his fingers wrapping
around hers. I think I stop breathing. I don't know what's happening. Well... I mean... I do... But
um... fuck. Is this happening? Am I okay with this? I swallow and look at Stéphan again. We've
been friends for years now. Was I just blind? Does it matter? My eyes close in pleasure as they
stroke my dick, their fingertips squeezing slowly up the shaft and rubbing the head before sliding
back down.

Fuck...

Y/N moans and I am done. I don't know what's what anymore. I reach down with my free hand and
hold their hands, wrapped around my dick. I open my eyes, breathing hard suddenly even though
nothing has happened. Is that fear? Lust? I don't fucking know. I-I really don't know. My eyes dart
back and forth.

"It's okay," Y/N says, her voice husky with sleep. "You're okay."

"Am I?" I ask. I lick my lower lip and suck it into my mouth, biting down. That's the question, isn't
it. Am I okay with this?
"Yes," she says, kissing my chest.

"Yes," Stéphan says.

The memory of last night washes over me, of him fucking her while he watched me. While he
controlled me. Of the way his command had hit me, expanding the intensity of EVERYTHING.
Of how much it had turned me on.

I swallow and take a deep breath. Where the fuck are my boxes when I need them? I let go of their
hands, my fingers shaking. I still can't tell if it's out of fear or lust. Maybe both.

"I don't know what this means," I say.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Y/N says, her mouth moving against my chest where she kisses
me. "I want to touch you. Can we touch you?"

Maybe she's right. Maybe it doesn't mean anything. My heart is beating so fast. I try to swallow,
but my mouth is too dry. I lick my lips and take a few shallow breaths. My eyes close and I draw in
a deep breath.

"Yes," I whisper.

Their joined hands begin to stroke me again and my head falls back.

"You like it," Stéphan says, his voice impossibly deep. "It's okay."

I bite my lip. I do like it. I DO. Fuck...

"Suck his dick, princess" Stéphan says, obviously talking to Y/N.

Oh god... I can't...

I open my mouth to tell them to stop, but she bends her body down and takes me in her mouth.

Fuck...

The angle is bad but her mouth is so warm.

Okay... Maybe I CAN do this.

"Not like that," Stéphan says. "Get between his legs, go down on him ."

She pulls her hand away from my dick and all that's left is his. He keeps stroking and I'm okay. I
wasn't sure I would be, but I am. God. This is so fucked up. And so fucking hot. Y/N does exactly
as he says and he sits up too, tucking one of his legs underneath him. He keeps stroking my dick
and she starts to suck it.

Fuck... Okay. Um... Yeah...

I watch as Stéphan winds his hands in her hair, guiding her up and down my dick. Watch as she
gives herself over to it. He's controlling everything and it feels amazing. I can't even think...

Stéphan lets go of my dick and pushes her down, forcing my dick all the way down her throat and
my eyes roll back into my head, a deep groan coming from my mouth.

"That's right," he says. "Take it."

I don't know if he's talking to her or to me. Maybe both of us. He holds her there for several beats
and I think I'm going to die.

"Please," I whisper, the word feeling strange. I don't beg. I've never begged for anything. But I am.
Fuck...

He moves her then, and I open my eyes, watching as he makes her do it how he wants. There are
gag tears in her eyes, and that, too, is fucking hot.

"Good girl," he says, switching his hands in her hair, wrapping her hair around his left hand now
and reaching down her body with the other. She moans around my dick and I can only assume he's
fingering her now. It stupid hot. Feeling her moans vibrating through my dick while it's in her
throat.

"I want...," I stop, unsure how to say what I want to say. "Can I... Can I fuck her?"

This is so weird. My entire life sex has been one way. Me in charge. I like it that way. It works for
me. Turns me on. But this... this is some alternate universe shit right here. Cause I'm in it... Like IN
it. But I'm obviously not in control of anything.

"Not yet," Stéphan says. "After she comes, maybe."

My hands clench in the sheets as he pushes her head down my dick again. Fuck... She's making
little gagging sounds and its so fucking hot. Stéphan lifts her, pulling her by her hair to let her
breath. She meets my eyes and licks at my dick. Moaning when he hits a spot she likes. Yes... We
are BOTH in it. She's enjoying this just as much as me. This is a whole experience. One I never
would have imagined.

She starts to breathe faster and I can hear his fingers inside her, hear how wet she is.

"Such a good little slut," he says. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Ye-yes," she stammers. "Stop teasing me. Let me come."

"That's not how we ask," he says. A loud slap comes a moment later.

"God," she says, teeth clenched. "I fucking love that."

"Keep it up and I won't let you come," he says.

"I'm sorry," she breaths. "Please."

I reach down and grab my dick, stroking it as I watch her face. Stéphan pushes her closer and she
licks at it while I stroke. Jesus christ.

"Then stop being a brat and suck his fucking dick like you mean it," Stéphan says.

Shit...

...

Why is that so fucking hot?

He let's go of her hair, and scoots down, using both hands on her now. I don't know what he's doing
to her but she is loving it, moaning and gasping around my dick as she takes it faster now. Sucking
and pushing it into her throat with abandon. If he doesn't make her come soon, I won't be able to
fuck her cause I'll nut down her throat. I let go of my dick, balling the sheets in my hand.

"Stéphan, PLEASE," I yell.

For a moment, everything stops. Her. Him. Fuck... I just said his fucking name. God dammit. He
looks at me shaking his head.

"I uh...," I start.

He smacks her ass again.

"I didn't tell you to stop," he says, pulling his fingers out of her pussy. She immediately goes back
to sucking my dick. It's so good. So fucking good. Stéphan shifts, bringing his fingers to my
mouth. "Taste."

I look at him for a beat. He takes the mask off, meeting my eyes. No idea how he slept in the
fucking thing but he's apparently decided it's not necessary any more. He cocks an eyebrow and
just waits. I lick my lips, my mouth dry again. Can I suck his fingers? Can I physically do this? To
a guy.

"Relax, it's not my dick," he says, rolling his eyes. "Just fucking taste her."

I swallow, and lean forward, licking his fingers.

"That's how much she wants you," he says. "That's how badly she wants you inside her."

Oh... yeah... Ok... So... Yeah ok... I'm an idiot. I grab his hand and take a deep breath, licking his
fingers clean and sucking them into my mouth. I'm losing my mind and you know it's fine. I don't
know what's going on in my head. But whatever. I'm in this right? For everything he's done to her
and me both, nobody has even touched him. I suddenly feel guilty and have no idea WHAT to do
with that.

I don't know if he senses my unease or can read my mind.

"Show me how you're going to suck my dick while he fucks you," Stéphan says, reaching back
between her legs. "Do it right and I'll let you come."

I watch her. He watches her. I watch him. She sucks with renewed determination and I think I'm
gonna die. My dick is so hard and so fucking close to coming.

"PLEASE," I yell again.

"NOW," Stéphan yells. He begins to spank her, hard slaps as she comes and she screams around my
dick. Screams her orgasm as her body spasms.

"Goooooooooood girrrrrrrllllll," he drawls. "Such a good girl."

Stephan moves down to the other end of the bed and sits, stroking his cock as she pulls off my
dick, breathing hard.

"You aren't done," he says, pulling her towards him. "Ride his dick while you suck me."

"God yes," she says, turning. She realizes the mask is gone and just stares.

He meets her eyes, grinning, his head cocked to the side.

"Whatcha waiting on princess?" he asks.

"It's you," she says. "I know you."

"Yeah," he says. "We'll catch up later. Now get on his fucking dick."

Wait... they know each other? Maybe we all need to catch up.

"Oh... yeah... sorry," she says, shaking herself out of a daze.

Y/N is a little wobbly as she situates herself. But that's to be expected. She turns her body,
straddling my lap as Stephan and I figure out what to do with our legs. He's on one end. I'm on the
other and Y/N is between us. I grab a condom from the pile on the floor and roll it on my dick.

"What if I can't?" she asks Stéphan as she eyes his dick. "It's so fat."

"I have faith in you, princess," he says. "Now stop stalling."

 Stéphan

It was a risk, sleeping with her. I knew better. My fucking dick is to blame. When she watched me
in the shower, when it became all too clear that I could be with them both... well... my dick
overrode my better judgment.

Y/N knows who I am. She knows where I work. If she wants to, she can level my whole life. Not
that it's a major concern. I could relocate. Set up shop somewhere else. But I'd rather not.

Truth is... If I had it to do over, I wouldn't change a thing. Pushing David enough that he forgot
himself, that he forgot the most basic rule of Anonymous... yeah that might be my finest moment.
It's too late for second-guessing now anyway. The cat's out of the bag. May as well have some fun.

I lean forward, grabbing her throat and pulling her into a kiss. Now that I don't have to worry about
the stupid mask, I'm going to take exactly what I want. And I want her mouth. She gasps, as if she
didn't expect it. I love that sound. My fingers tangle in her hair, pushing her closer, adjusting the
angle. One hand on her throat, the other in her hair. I hold her where I want her, tease her mouth
with mine, biting and licking.

The noises she makes are addictive. I want more. I want to hear them all. To catalog her tells and
expressions. I want to be able to read her desires in her breath and pulse. I want to claim her. Which
means claiming David too. Something I only just realized was possible. I never expected him to be
a switch. Certainly not one with fluid sexual preferences or an open-minded interest in examining
them. He obviously didn't either.

I feel her body move as David positions her over his dick, pushing her down. She moans in my
mouth and it's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever heard.

"Good girl," I say, my lips moving against her mouth. "That's right. You're gonna take it all. I know
you're sore. Know we've fucked you ten ways to Sunday. But you love it don't you? His big dick
stretching your pussy, filling you up?"

"Yesssss," she says, her body shuddering with pleasure as David holds her hips in place and thrusts
from beneath.

"Suck my dick then, baby," I say. "Show me how we make you feel."

I push her head down and lean back. She starts slow, licking the tip and circling the head with her
tongue, licking up and down the sides.

"Suck it," I say, my voice low and growly.

Y/N obeys, sucking me into her mouth, moaning around my cock. God, she's hot, her mouth warm
and wet. She tongues my dick, caressing me inside her mouth. Fuck, it's so good.

"Spit on it," I say.

She lifts her head, a line of spit trailing from my dick to her mouth. Her eyes hold mine as she lets a
drop of spit fall from her lips. In that moment, I wonder which of us is really in control. Her eyes
burn into me, a memory I will never forget, will likely beat off to for years. She's so pretty, her hair
loose and messy around her face, eyes dripping with lust, mouth swollen and red from our kiss. I
think... maybe... she just owned me with that look. Irrevocably.
Y/N grabs my dick and strokes from the head down, spreading her spit all around before bending
back down to take me in her mouth. Fuckkkkkkkkk. She pushes low on my dick, squeezing with
her hand on the way up in long, slow strokes.

"Just like that," I say, my voice breathy.

She opens her mouth wide, pushing me into her throat and gagging on my dick. Again and again,
slow strokes, taking me deeper down her throat each time. Spit slips from the corners of her mouth,
slipping down over her fingers as she strokes me. This. This is what I wanted. Slow, messy head.

"Fuck, baby girl," I say, biting my lip. "That's so good. You're fucking perfect."

David goes faster. Harder. She begins to suck at the same rhythm, her body naturally moving
between us. Every thrust of his hips pushing her mouth down my dick.

"Slow," I say. "Fuck her slow dammit. I wanna enjoy this."

Time itself seems to slow when David eases his pace. He meets my eyes. His are desperate. Driven.
Begging.

"I need to come, Stéphan," he says, voice clipped. "God, you're driving me crazy."

I never expected to hear those words strung together in a sentence. I've always thought David was
straight, but it seems his desires are more fluid. More open to ... manipulation. I must admit,
controlling his sexual experience is driving me crazy too. I want to push him, but it's a fine line
with someone like him. Especially as I seem to be the first man he's ever had any kind of sexual
experience with. If I don't play it right, he'll get scared and THAT'S not what anyone wants.

"Your choice," I say, faking casual calm. "You can fuck her how YOU want and come. But I'm not
done with her nor she with me. We're not finished. So if you want to be done. Cool. OR you can do
what I want and come WITH US. You decide what you want. Her. Or us."

He meets my eyes again, his jaw ticking. His hips stall, fingertips gripping Y/N with clenched
fingers. Interesting. He holds my eyes for a beat and I know better than to look away.

"FUCK," he yells, breaking the eye contact.

This too is risky. I'm pushing and I know it. But I want him to acknowledge that he wants more
than just her. That I'm part of the equation and he likes it.

"I know what you're doing," he says.

"Good," I say. "I'm not hiding it. Only questions are whether you have enough control to follow
and whether you're man enough to admit you want to."

I reach down and lift Y/N off my dick. This is harder than I want to admit. My dick is aching.
Pulsing. But I'm playing the long game here. This is a small sacrifice.

She wipes her mouth on the back of her arm as I pull her up for a kiss. It's soft, a slow exploration.
She moans, fingers squeezing on my shoulder. I break the kiss and turn to look at him. Y/N turns
too, looking back over her shoulder.

"Do you want to be a part of THIS, David?" I ask.

We watch him swallow. Watch emotions fly over his face. He sighs.
"Can't we just go back to the fucking?" he asks. "I'm still here. We don't have to talk it to death."

I smile then. Y/N does too.

I push her backwards, forcing her hips down until David is deep inside her. I keep pushing until
she's leaning against his chest.

"Kiss him," I command, crawling forward and settling myself between their legs.

She turns her head and he stretches forward to take her mouth. I watch them kiss for a moment and
bend down, licking her clit with a wide sweep of my tongue.

"Oh my gawwwwwwwd," she says, the words muffled by his mouth.

"Slow, deep strokes," I say to David.

He starts to move and I suck her clit. Her legs begin to tremble. I put my thumb against the base of
David's dick and he groans. May as well show him what there is to be gained by a threesome with
a true bisexual. I bend down further, licking his shaft and tonguing his balls. I suck one into my
mouth, rolling it gently on my tongue.

"Holy fuck," he says.

I move back and forth between them. Y/N becomes frenzied. I'm deliberately pushing her closer to
orgasm. David, was already close. I tease and torment him, but keep the sensations light. She's so
wet, her pussy cream dripping down his dick. I lick it all. Her legs are shaking now, orgasm right
there. I pull back and slap her clit.

"Fuck," she says, looking down at me. Her jaw flexes, mouth agape. Like she wants to talk but
doesn't know what to say.

I hit her again and her eyes close, teeth clenching.

"Please," she says, opening her eyes to focus on me.

I shake my head, licking her clit.

"Not yet," I say.

My dick flexes and I struggle with my own needs. God I need her. Her mouth. Her hand.
Something. But I can't. Not yet. I slap her pussy again and rub her swollen clit.

"Oh god, Stéphan," she cries.

That. I love that. Love that sound of desperation in her voice. The sound of my name on her lips. I
smack her again and go back to licking, my other hand rolling David's balls.

"Stéphan, PLEASE," she screams. "Please, please, please."

"Now you can fuck her," I say to David, ignoring her pleas.

I pull her away from his chest, repositioning her so she can suck my dick while he fucks her.

"Come princess," I say, pushing her hair out of the way. "Suck my dick and come for me."

Y/N takes me in her mouth and my dick damn near weeps with relief. Fuck. David is already
hammering into her, pushing me into her mouth over and over, so fast.

"Come on, baby," I say. "Give it to me. Come for me."

She makes it through another two strokes before her orgasm hits. I watch with satisfaction, pushing
her all the way down my dick as she comes, knowing the gag reflex will make her orgasm hit
harder. I use her hair as a hand hold. One, two, three deep strokes.

"Now, David," I say.

My breath is choppy. I'm close. So fucking close.

"Fucking COME," I yell.

He slams into her, hips thrusting deep as he groans.

Finally. Fuck.

I push into her throat, hitting the back of it as I shoot my load in her pretty mouth. David pulls back
and thrusts again. She moans around my dick, the vibrations intensifying my pleasure
exponentially.

We seem to come forever. Or time stops. It's stupid hot. So intense. I don't want this to be the end
of whatever it is we're doing. I want them both.

No one can move for a little while. Y/N is the first, rolling onto her side and snuggling into my hip.
David gets up to dispose of the condom.

"We need sleep," I say, when I can manage words. "And she needs medicine. Did we bring the
bag? I only see condoms."

"Huh," David asks as he walks back, comfortable in his nudity. That's a good sign.

"Did we bring anything besides condoms?" I ask.

He looks on the other side of the bed.

"No," he says.

"We should have planned better," I say. "I'll go get it. I need to check on everything anyway."

"Yeah... I meant to ask," David says. "Where is everyone?"

I laugh. It had been a little awkward. Especially with Devon.

"I had them pull mattresses off the beds and set up on the other side of the warehouse," I say.

"Oh my god," Y/N says, sitting straight up. "I didn't even think about the other people."

"You were on painkillers," David says. "It's okay."

"But... your brother... and everyone else," she says, cheeks flushing. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Hey," I say, bending down, lifting her chin. "Don't do that. This was beautiful. It was special.
Don't be embarrassed. Please."

"Devon doesn't seem to like me very much as it is," she says. "He's probably thinks I'm some kind
of super slut."

I grin. I don't mean to, but she caught me off guard with that. It's adorable.

"A super slut, huh?" I ask, kissing her forehead. "What exactly makes one a super slut? As opposed
to just a regular, average, every day slut?"

She smacks my shoulder and this too is cute.

"I'm serious," she says. "I just fucked both of you and EVERYONE knows."

"I mean, 'everyone' is relative," I say. "It's just Devon and two other people. Not exactly an army of
people."

"Hey look," David says, bending down and sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. "Devon is
going to take his cues from me. He's MY brother. If I seem upset, then he'll act accordingly. If
I'm... happy... then he'll be fine."

"Are you happy?" she asks, looking up at him, her eyes so earnest it could break hearts. "You're
okay? You aren't mad?"

I turn away, that's the crux of it really. How David feels. I can't bring myself to watch his face. I
don't want to see if I pushed him too hard too fast. If he's not okay, I don't know what I'll do.

"I'm gonna grab our things and check on everyone," I say, standing. "I'll be right back."

I lean down and kiss Y/N quickly on the mouth. God I hope this turns out okay. I hope I didn't fuck
up everything.
 Y/N

"I'm not mad," David says. "Definitely not mad. I don't know about happy, but I'm... invested I
guess is as good a word as any. I don't know if I'm okay. I'm twenty-seven years old. I thought I
was too old to still be figuring out who I am. I've worked with Stéphan for a couple years now and
never been attracted to him that way before. It's weird. I keep getting flashes in my head of what I
must have looked like."

"You looked hot," I say.

He rolls his eyes.

"No seriously," I say. "I keep imagining... other things between you two. My imagination seems to
have run away with itself with how sexy the two of you are."

That's true enough. I keep imagining them kissing. Making out. I'd legit pay money to watch them
make out. With the idea obviously that I get to play with them both.

"Would you..."

He stops speaking without finishing the question. I wait several beats, but he doesn't continue.

"Would I what?" I ask.

He swallows, boyish insecurity washing over his features.

"Would you... still... would you still love me... you know... if this isn't for me?" he says.

I open my mouth to answer but he begins again.

"I am enjoying myself," he says. "But I don't know if this is a one time experimentation type thing
or if my brain has snapped and when things go back to normal if it will too. Or whatever. Point is...
I don't know what I'm doing or if it's going to keep happening. Will you still want me if I'm not..."

David waves a hand in the general direction of the doorway.

I turn, pulling him into my arms.

"Yes," I say, kissing his mouth. "Yes, you big doofus. I was already in love with you before I even
met Stéphan."

"But the sex...," he says. "It's been incredible with the three of us. I don't think I can compete with
that on my own."

I feel the need to lighten the mood.

"Are you saying my sex game is weak?" I tease.

"What?" he asks. "God, no."

"Is it the interaction between you and Stéphan that bothers you?" I ask. "Would it be different if he
just focused on me?"

He smiles a weird smile. I can't decipher what it means.

"I don't think so," he says. "He has held my dick and licked my balls."

Well shit. It sounds like he's basically telling me not to get too wrapped up in this. That's okay, if
that's all I can have. But it's not what I want. Which means I need to tell him. But how? I can't. It's
too embarrassing. I open my mouth and close it again.

"Just say it," he says, watching me intently.

Why is it always so hard to ask for the things we want? Always second guessing ourselves or
thinking we aren't worthy. It takes me several beats to decide to do it. Nothing like ripping a band-
aid off.

"Dear Diary," I say. "I want them both. It's not a deal-breaker, but it's what I want. They're both so
very different and I want more."

"We'll figure it out as we go," he says, noncommittally.

David leans back in the bed, pulling me with him and adjusting the sheet to cover us. We save a
spot for Stéphan on the other side.

He returns in a few minutes with the bag of supplies and a laptop.

"We've had some attacks against our network," he says. "Gotta shore it up and reroute it."

"You need help?" David asks. "It will go faster with two of us. I can lay the reroute pathway and
set up some false paths."

"You read my mind," Stéphan says. He hands over an iPad and passes me the medicine. "Here
sweets. You need to take these."

"Thank you," I say. He called me sweets and my heart might have melted a little. I drop the pills
into my mouth. Stéphan hands me a bottle of water and I twist the cap, sucking down half the
bottle.

They are both watching me when I pull the bottle from my lips. I still wonder if maybe I'm dead. It
doesn't seem possible that I am here with the two of them. That for however long it lasts, they are
mine.

David flips open the iPad case that doubles as a keyboard. I watch his long fingers fly across the
keys and can't fight the blush raising up my chest. Such fast fingers. As if I didn't know this
already.

"So um," he says, clearig his throat. "How do you two know each other?"

He is staring at the computer screen, the question very nonchalant. Casual.

"Stéphan fixed my computer for me," I say. "It was about six months ago. I took it in to Geeksquad
and he wiped all the viruses off and like quadrupled the operating speed."

"You're not still watching porn on it, right?" he asks, winking.

"Oh my god, stop," I say. "I never watched porn on it."

"Someone did," he says. "An ex-boyfriend maybe?"

"Maybe," I say shrugging. "I dated someone for a few months when I first started college but I
never noticed him watching porn."

"Want us to hack him?" Stephan asks.

"No," I say scoffing. "He didn't like break my heart or anything. I just wasn't into him. He didn't
inspire any diary entries."

I see David smirk from the corner of my eye. It seems he liked the inside joke.

"You're sure?" Stéphan asks. "I could ruin his credit."

I laugh. He's a teensy bit adorable right now.

"Settle down," I say. "No need to bring the full wrath of anonymous."

Stéphan looks at me askance.

"Uhh... that's nothing," he says. "The full wrath of anonymous means he'd be evicted, fired, unable
to work ever again. We could ruin his life. We choose not to. Ethics and all."

"Oh...," I say. It suddenly hits me exactly who I am fucking. I am fucking Anonymous. Well part
of them. "Why do you work at geek squad?"

"It's a disposable job," he says. "With access to a lot of people. You'd be surprised how many
professionals and political figures set up their networks with geek squad. I have backdoors to their
networks and can find just about anything on a personal computer network. Plus it's got a high
turnover rate. Means no one really gets to know you. And finding hidden talents is pretty easy."

I watch them doing their hacker thing and can't help but be impressed. Sexy men with sexy fingers
doing sexy things. Pinch me.

The medicine and lack of sleep catch up with me, my eyes getting heavy. I've only taken this kind
of medicine once before. I used vicodin after i had my wisdom teeth out. Its a little like being
drunk.

"I am going to fall asleep soon," I say, stifling a yawn. "You guys almost done. I want to cuddle."

"Almost," David said. "Go ahead and close your eyes."

"I need goodnight kisses," I say.

Stéphan smiles.

"How do you offset the cuteness?" he asks, apparently talking to David. "Its like cute overload"

"I generally put my dick in her," David says. "She'll have you all up in your feels if you let her."

"I'm right here," I say, rolling my eyes. "Now kiss me goodnight... please."

"Since you said please," Stéphan says. He leans over and kisses me. I kiss him back, licking his
bottom lip.

David is on the other side. I pull him in, making the kiss a three way. Maybe it's the drugs, but I
am struck by a brilliant idea. I pull away, pushing them together.

Sigh... yeah... that's EXACTLY how I imagined it. Stéphan reaches up, holding David's jaw. He
holds his lips just milimeters away. Waiting for David to pull away or acquiesce.

For several beats there is just their mingled breaths. And then David pushes forward. He deepens
the kiss, turning his head. When I tell you that seeing them tongue kiss is the single most sexy
thing I've ever seen... believe it.

They pull away from each other, David breathing hard. Stéphan takes a deep breath, releasing
some tension he had been holding.

He looks at me. His eyes naked and unguarded. Showing me how much that single kiss had meant.
How much he'd wanted it. How grateful he was for me initiating it.

Fuck if I'm not falling in love with both of them.

I lean back and fall asleep, with their kiss in my mind. I stir when they lay down, wrapping me up
in their exquisite maleness. I feel safe and happy between them.

I don't know how long I will get to keep them but if my heart has a vote, it will be forever.
 David

"Jesus," Devon says. "Put some clothes on for fuck's sake. What the hell did you guys DO last
night?"

"Go away," I say, waving him off. My head is buried in the nape of Y/N's neck, her hair tickling
my face when I move. It's difficult to figure out where one person stops and another begins. Me,
Y/N, Stéphan - we are completely entwined. We probably resemble some weird chimera beast.
"We need sleep."

"Suck it up, buttercup," Devon says. "No one told you spend all night wrestling. We got work to
do."

"It wasn't exactly wrestling," Stéphan says, pulling his hand away. It had been resting across my
hip. "Although, the finishing move was championship worthy."

"TMI, my guy." Devon says. "TMI."

"What have we got?" I ask, adjusting the sheet so it covers my ass.

"We have the twitter update," Devon says. "hours of video and metadata from the bodycam feeds,
and someone needs to hack the DC coroner database. We don't have any details about how many
died in the bombing and all the news stations are suppressing the bombing. Simmons set up a
website for people to post if they have family or friends that haven't returned home, but it's getting
hammered with DDoS attacks and false reports."

"Can we boost server processing for the website?" Stéphan asks. "Piggyback on the government
servers?"

"You can do that?" Y/N asks, drowsily.

"Maybe," I say. "If we can determine where the DDoS attacks originate, it's possible we could
bounce them back and hijack their server."

Y/N turns to look at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are sleepy and sweet. "I don't know what any
of that means. But it sounds cool."

"I'll show you," I say, leaning forward to kiss her nose. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," she says. "And caffeine deprived."

"There's food," Stéphan says, nuzzling into her neck. "And coffee."

"That's not what I meant," I say. "How's your leg?"

I reach down and touch her thigh. It isn't hot. That's a good sign.

"I'll live," she says, shrugging. "It doesn't hurt as much as yesterday."

"If you stay off it, you might be able to get by without narcotics," Stéphan says.

"You don't expect me to just lay here, do you?" she asks. "I want to help. If it gets bad, I'lltake
something. Besides... the bed would be lonely by myself."
Devon groans.

"Alrighty then," he says, turning away. "That's my cue. Keep it down okay. Everyone's awake and
half the team is assembled. The rest are en route. Let's not turn this into a porno soundtrack."

Devon shakes his head as he walks out of the room. I wrap my arms around Y/N and Stéphan,
pulling us all closer. It had been weird at first, touching Stéphan. Until we kissed. Up until that
moment, I hadn't known what to think. Everything had seemed so strange. Hot. But strange.

I'd tried to put everything in boxes, but it didn't work. I don't know if I filled them all up or what but
in the moments before we kissed, as we sat there sharing breath, I had to face the truth. I am
attracted to Stéphan. I wanted to kiss him. I don't know what that means going forward, but when I
realized that I wanted to kiss him, touching him was no longer strange. I run my hand along the
curve of his hip and press my hard-on against Y/N's ass.

"As much as I'd love to lay here between you two, I really need to pee," Y/N says. "And brush my
teeth."

"I don't know if we have a toothbrush handy," Stéphan says. "But there's listerine strips or
something in the supplies."

Stéphan cups Y/N's cheek, running his thumb along her jaw. She shivers.

"Sure we can't convince you to stay?" I ask, nipping her shoulder with my teeth. I let them linger,
sucking where I bit her. She makes a noise low in her throat.

"You don't know how much I wish I didn't have to pee," she says. "But some things aren't
negotiable."

"Fine," I say, pulling away.

"Don't pout," Stéphan says. "Let her pee."

"I'm not pouting," I say, grinning. "Much."

Y/N turns and pulls at my arm.

"Come here," she says.

She pulling me into a kiss and I realize I don't want her to go. I don't know what Stéphan and I will
do by ourselves. I've admitted I'm attracted to him, but I've never done anything with a man besides
what we've done together. I'm nervous and I don't know what to do with that. I haven't been
nervous about sex since I was in high school. It's disconcerting.

"I'll be right back," she says, pulling away from me. She slips on a tshirt and shuffles away. I
watch, analyzing her steps. She has a slight limp, but her leg doesn't seem to be bothering her much
and the pain medicine should have worn off by now. When she's gone, the silence feels louder.

"Hey," Stéphan says.

I turn to look at him and take a moment to really look at him. He's... hot. That's the only word for it.
I meet his eyes and he looks back at me.

"Yeah," I say.

"You're good, right?" Stéphan asks.

"Yeah," I say, shrugging. I am right? I think so. I don't really know. But I doubt I'm going to figure
it out this morning.

Stéphan pulls me down and I find my mouth suddenly dry. I don't know what I expected, but he
just settles me against his arm.

"I um...," I begin. "I am not a little spoon."

"No," he says. "You're a dumbass. Relax. Nothing is happening."

"Oh," I say. Is that disappointment? Fuck... I have no idea what I'm doing. "Ok."

"Just lay here," he says. "With me."

"You say that like it's simple," I respond.

"It can be," he says. "What do you want?"

That IS the question, isn't it. What do I want?

"I'll tell you what I want," Stephan says, running his hand absently along my stomach.

I swallow.

"Okay," I say.

"I want to make you comfortable," he says. "I want you to feel open and free. If something doesn't
work for you, that's okay. I'm not judging you and there aren't any rules or requirements. Do what
you want. As much or as little as you want."

I find myself nodding. That doesn't sound that bad.

"That being said," he says, reaching up to grab my chin, turning it so I meet his eyes. "I keep
fantasizing about sucking your dick while Y/N rides your face. So... there's that."

My dick flexes. Apparently, it likes the idea too.

Stéphan leans forward, laying a chaste kiss against my lips. He pulls away but I reach up, holding
him close.

He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. I don't know what to say but I don't want him to pull away. He
smiles, seeming to read my mind.

He leans forward, pressing our lips together, his hand coming up. Where he had been soft with Y/N
cupping her face, he is anything but with me. His fingers grip my jaw, holding me in place as he
deepens the kiss. I dip my tongue into his mouth and try to catch his lip between my teeth, but he's
just out of reach. He nips at my lip, licking the corner. It makes me want more, but he holds me in
place with the hand on my jaw.

I find myself groaning, damn near growling.

"Let me kiss you," I say. I grasp his forearm, feeling the need to do SOMETHING with my hand,
but unsure exactly what. "Please."

I feel his mouth smile as he releases my jaw. His hand slides back, gripping the back of my head as
he crushes my mouth to his. It's aggressive. Like a battle almost. His tongue strokes mine and I am
surprised by how intense my body responds.

I... I want him.

 Stéphan

It's a kiss. It's just a kiss. I keep telling myself this, but it feels like more. I want it to be more.
David is one of those men that I've never let myself think about. Off limits and unattainable. I'm
not masochistic enough to pine for someone who will never return my affections.

It seems my subconscious is less pragmatic. Feelings I've always attributed to respect, friendship
and admiration suddenly seem indicative of... not love but something. The first stirrings maybe.

It will end poorly. I know this already. Our friendship will be lost forever, sacrificed for the minute
chance of something more. And it will be worth it. A thousand times worth it.

It's not just a kiss. Every single second, every single breath is a chance to tip the scales. I kiss him
like a man possessed and maybe I am. Possessed of the desperation that comes from knowing that
this chance won't come again. Of how lucky I am it developed at all.

We kiss and I ache all the way to my dick. Our tongues slide against each other before I bite his lip.
I bite a lot. It's not as kinky as some of the things I do, but it's definitely one of my favorites. When
I want to, I can dominate someone entirely with just my mouth.

This is not that time.

This is a delicate balance. David is used to having control. It's comfortable for him. So I give a
little, then take it back. He slides his tongue into my mouth, and I stroke it with mine before pulling
him away by his hair, just out of reach. I bite his lip and lean my forehead against his, both of us
breathing heavily.

"I am never going to pee again," Y/N says dramatically.

I turn and look at her in the doorway, clothed in nothing but a t-shirt with sleep tousled hair. She's
watching us with hungry eyes. Fucking sexy.

I love that the idea of us together turns her on. That she's encouraging interactions between us. I'd
been afraid that David might only be comfortable around me if she was there. That with the three of
us, he could do things he could never do just with me. I'm still afraid of that if I'm honest. And if
that turns out to be the case, I will suck it up because the three of us together is... otherworldly. But
the kiss we shared... well... a man can dream. It could happen. A week ago, I would have never
imagined even that much was possible.

"I tried to get you to stay," David says. "Now you'll have to wait allllllllll day to have us to
yourself."

"He's right," I say. "We need to get up. Today is gonna be rough."

It's at this moment, when I'm looking at Y/N that David surprises me. Like deadass shocks the
ever loving shit out of me. He rolls on top of me, pinning my arms above my head. Our bodies are
touching. Our whole fucking bodies. He looks at me, one eyebrow raised as if daring me to object.
As if I would. I told him as much or as little. But, there needs to be a slight adjustment to the power
dynamic.

"Kiss me, David," I say.

And just like that, it's mine again. Because he wants to. Because he was going to anyway. It doesn't
matter if he's on top of me. He's going to do what I said. I open my mouth, running my tongue
along my teeth. His eyes drop to my mouth, following the movement.

"It would serve you right if I didn't," he says.

"You're not going to though," I say.

His dick is so hard, pressing into my pelvis. He's into this. Into me.

"I could," he says.

"Okay," I respond.

"Fuck," he says, smiling. "I really thought I'd throw you with this."

"Still waiting...," I say.

"Dammit," he says. "How the fuck are you still in control?"

I don't say anything. I wait.

"Fuck it," he says, crushing our mouths together.

I love kissing him. The power struggle. The way our desires mix and meld. In the kiss, I yield,
letting him take control, knowing mine is in his mind and loving the interplay. Not to mention it's
fucking fun just catching him off guard with my acquiescence.

I let him explore my mouth, biting at my lip and teasing my tongue. Our groans, deep and growly
in perfect harmony. He pulls away, and we are both breathless. He shifts to the side, dropping
down so his lips touch my ear.

"I'm not calling you sir," he says.

I chuckle.

"I'm not calling you sub, so we're even," I respond.

"Good," he says.

"Okay then," I say. "Now get off. We really got work to do and I need a cold shower."

*************************

The day passes slowly, every minute feeling like hours. I generally find my Anonymous work
engrossing, but today, the deaths weigh heavily on everyone. We're up to ten thousand but it's hard.
Some of the bodies are legit just piles of teeth. The mood is somber, sad, horrified. It will
eventually boil up into rage. It's inevitable. But for now, it is fucking heartbreaking.

I come upon Y/N & David. Several of her friends had died in the bombing, but we haven't told her
yet. David had called me over so we could do it together. I don't want to do this. I HATE that I
have to. There's no easy way to tell someone their friends are dead. That the president murdered
them.

She reacts as we expected, the knowledge crushing her as she sobs uncontrollably. We hold her, our
arms encircling. I'd give anything to be able to take the pain away, but I can't. I feel helpless. I've
never felt so horribly fucking helpless. I find my own eyes filled with tears in the face of her
anguish. My heart is breaking.

I look at David and find him crying too. In this moment, I realize that I love them both. We cry
together for her lost friends. Her pain is our pain, tragic and heart-wrenching.

"Come on," I say, picking her up.

I can't leave her to go back to what I was doing. There are enough people working on it. David and
I walk into the room where we had slept and in silent communication, cuddle her between us on the
bed. We hold her until she falls asleep. We don't need words. I link my hand with his, drawing
comfort where I can as we, too, eventually succumb to the sleep of sorrow.
 Y/N

I come awake with a splitting headache. Crying always does that to me. My soul feels heavy and
my eyes, scratchy. I snuggle into the two men in bed with me. They had been so sweet. I could
almost cry again, thinking of how they had held me as I cried for my dead friends. The only time
I've ever felt such absolute acceptance and comfort is in my mother's arms.

Oh GOD... My parents. They don't even know I'm alive. I've been so wrapped up in everything
that's happening that I haven't called them. I'm such an asshole. They're probably worried sick.
But... shit... what am I gonna tell them? Can I even tell them anything?

Hey Mom, Dad, I'm fine. I just ran away with a couple of guys from Anonymous. I think I'm falling
in love with them. Yeah, both of them. I don't know anything about them really, but the sex is
phenom. Oh and we're trying to take down the government. But don't worry. They're the good
guys.

Yeah... that would go over well. But really... what would I even say to them? I can't tell them about
any of this. I don't even know if I can call them. I don't want to put them in danger.

My heart skips a beat as I realize what's been staring me in the face this whole time. There's no
room in my old life for David and Stéphan. I can't introduce them to my friends or take them to
meet my parents. I'm going to have to choose. My old life... or one with them. Assuming that's even
on the table.

Fuck...

We need to talk. For all the sex we've had... we haven't talked. Well, not much anyway. How can I
be in love with them when we've never had a real conversation? Maybe I'm not in love with them
at all. Maybe this is just really strong infatuation. No... no, I care about them. I'm considering
trying to build some kind of life with them. Leaving everything and everyone I've ever known
behind. I wouldn't do that if this were just about sex. They're worth it.

I keep saying they. I'm completely taking it for granted that our relationship includes Stéphan.
That's not fair to David. The last time we talked about it at all, he indicated that he wasn't sure what
was happening with him and Stéphan. He basically said we'd take it a day at a time. I can't just
assume anything.

Yeah... we definitely need to talk. Why does the idea of it scare me so much? What am I afraid of?
I think... I'm afraid that maybe I want more from them than they do from me. I'm doing it again.
They. They. They. I don't even know if David is okay with Stéphan being part of our relationship.
God... what if he isn't? I'm falling for Stéphan just as much as David. How will I ever be able to let
him go if David decides that's not what he wants?

How has this gotten so far away from me? Because every time we touch, I want them. I've barely
done anything since I got shot besides fuck. I've had more sex in the last three days than I have in
the last year. I'm addicted to them. To BOTH of them. That's the bottom line. I want them both. I
want us to all be together. What do they call it? A throuple? Poly? Fuck, I don't know. Whatever it
is, I want it. I have to convince them to give us, the three of us a real shot.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when David's arm squeezes around my middle as he stirs. I look up at
him, meeting his sleepy eyes. He's so fucking handsome.
"Hey baby," he says, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "Are you okay?"

No. I'm not okay. I let my eyes close as I absorb the warmth of Stéphan at my back. His slow even
breaths tickles the nape of my neck. My eyes fill with tears at the thought of waking up without
him.

"Shhh," David whispers. "It's okay. We're here."

That's just it. That's exactly it. 'We're here.' I want the we. But I have no idea how to tell him. How
to make him understand. I don't want to make him feel like I think he's not enough. This is all so
fucked up. I'm gonna mess it up. What if I lose them both? God, I don't think I could stand it.

"We need to talk," I say, keeping my voice low to let Stéphan sleep.

His eyes widen with what appears to be alarm. Shit. I'm already fucking this up.

"No good conversation has ever started that way," he says.

"It could be good," I say. "I hope it's good."

"You hope?" he sighs. "That's not instilling me with confidence. What's wrong baby?"

That's the second time in as many minutes that he's called me baby. I LOVE it. I fucking love it. I
want to be his baby. But he might not feel that way after we talk. Fuck. I'm a grown up. I am a
grown woman fucking not one but two grown ass men. I'm stronger than this. Just tell him.

"I'm falling in love with Stéphan," I say softly. "I don't think I can let him go. I... I want us all to be
together. I know this is all new for you. And I know what I'm asking. It's a big deal. Huge. I get
that. But I love him too. I can't imagine waking up without both of you."

Stéphan's arm tightens around me, his voice deep and growly in my ear. "This is exactly how I
want to wake up."

Well fuck... I turn to look at him over my shoulder.

"How much did you hear?" I ask.

He chuckles and takes a deep breath, his mouth brushing my throat. Just that tiniest little touch and
my pussy already has a heartbeat. See? This is why we never talk. I'm strung out on their sex. My
pussy just running shit like she's in charge. Down bitch. We need to have this talk. It's important.

"I've been awake for about an hour," he says. "Just wanted to let you sleep. You haven't been
getting much rest and I know how hard today was for you."

So he just heard everything. Well... that could be good I guess. I don't have to obsess about whether
to tell him. And how fucking cute is he? Like my heart is literally swelling. He just laid here and
held me, letting me sleep. God damn adorable ass. I want to be upset that he faked being asleep.
But how???

Does the fact that he heard change anything? Not really. It's just hella awkward. I take a deep
breath, turning back to David. Nothing to it but to do it.

"So I guess, what I need to know is..." I say. "Is this a real relationship? Whatever we're doing?
And is Stéphan a part of it? And if so, is it serious. Because... my parents probably think I'm dead.
And I don't know what to do about that."
I sigh... Good job. Babbling. That's the picture of eloquence right there. I look up at David, trying
to read his expression. His face is masked. I have no idea what he's thinking. He licks his lips, the
action drawing my eyes despite my best intentions. Stupid, needy pussy. Just stop. I wait for him to
speak. To say something. Anything. Silence.

I swallow hard, my palms sweating as everything hangs in the balance.

"Well say something," Stéphan says.

I realize he is as invested in David's response as I am. I reach down and squeeze his arm where it
rests across my waist. God, I hope I didn't fuck everything up.

David lifts his hand, coming to rest on my cheek. He strokes my face with the pad of his fingers. I
turn into his touch. It's impossibly sweet. But he still hasn't said anything. I still don't know what
he's thinking. The silence stretches, pulling my anxiety with it. The longer it lasts, the more
convinced I am that I've ruined everything.

"Is that what you want?" he finally asks.

Duh. Of course it's what I want. I wouldn't have said it otherwise. I realize he's looking at Stéphan.

"You want the three of us to all date each other?" he adds.

Stéphan stiffens behind me, just the slightest tensing of his muscles. As if he's afraid to respond.
Afraid of saying the wrong thing and pushing David away.

"I told you before," he says. "As much or as little as you want. I'm not going to push you into doing
something you don't want. Nor will I push you into doing something you do want. You have to
decide this for yourself. What do YOU want?"

"I... I don't know," David says. "It's not that simple."

"It is," Stéphan says. "Do you want us? Or just her?"

"It's NOT that simple," David says. "What does 'us' mean? Are we fucking now? Do you fuck me?
Or do I fuck you? What 'us' am I agreeing to?"

"Just us," Stéphan says, his voice soft. "You don't have to decide any of that now. I'm not
pressuring you and you know that. If you're pressuring yourself, that's your own issue. The only
thing you have to decide right now is whether you want something - whatever it may end up being
with me. Or if you just want her."

"And then what?" David asks. "If I say just her... then what? She's in love with you too. She wants
us both. If I say just her, then I'm choosing myself over her. She'd miss you. She'd be miserable.
You think I want to make her miserable? That's not love."

"Just say it," Stéphan says. "You don't want us. You want her."

"I didn't say that," David says. "But you guys are acting like I have a choice here. And I don't. 'Her'
isn't an option. Not if I meant it when I said I love her. Obviously it's 'us'. I'm just trying to figure
out what the fuck that is. And I don't understand why we're even talking about this right now."

"Look," Stéphan says. "I get that this is a lot to take in, so I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt.
You've had a very weird couple of days given that a week ago you identified as straight. This is not
a small, insignificant change. I get it. But you need to pull your head out of your ass . Her friends
are dead. Her parents think she is too. She's trying to decide if she's going to stay dead, dumbass."

"Okay, fine," David says. "But why is that on me?"

"Oh my god," Stéphan says, exasperated. "She'll be leaving her whole life behind. Everything she's
ever known. And she's doing it without having any idea what she's getting herself into. That's a
huge sacrifice. She just wants to know if you're as invested as she is. Jesus. How hard is this?"

"Exactly," David says. "That's exactly my point. It's an ultimatum. If I say her, then I prove I'm not
as invested and as such, not worthy of the sacrifice she's making. So I can only say 'us'."

"You are entirely missing the point," Stéphan says. "This isn't about her or what she wants. This is
JUST about you. What do YOU want?"

"YES," David yells. "I want you, okay, yes. Are you happy?"

"No," Stéphan says, sighing. "But congratulations on being a dick."

David looks down at me. At my eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"Fuck," he says. "I'm sorry. I ... I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean to make you fight," I say, a tear leaking from my eye. "Everyone's mad and it's my
fault. I just wanted us to talk. All we do is have sex but I have things I need to figure out and I... I
don't know. I just wanted to talk."

"Please don't cry," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm an asshole. I'm not mad. Just stupid."

"Well, you're a guy," I say, sniffling. "Guys are stupid."

"Heyyyyy," Stéphan says, his voice dripping with mock affront. "I'm a guy too."

The corner of my mouth turns up, just a little.

"I know," I say. "Your guy parts are pressing against my ass. Believe me. I know."

"You love me," Stéphan says. "And my guy parts."

I chuckle, charmed despite my tears.

"I really am sorry," David says. "I'm sorry to both of you. I don't know what got into me. I'm a
jerk."

"Just kiss and make up already," I say, breaking into a wide smile.

I can't help the smile. I love it when they kiss.

"Okay, princess," David says. "But you said you wanted to talk. We won't do much talking if we
kiss."

"That's like... literally the whole point," I say. "We'll figure out what to do about my parents later."
 David

"I need to go to the bathroom," I say. "Just give me a second."

I lean forward and kiss Y/N's forehead, then turn my head towards Stéphan. I hesitate for a
moment and then push forward. A chaste kiss to say I'm sorry. It's not enough, but it's what I got.

"I'll be right back."

I walk away, but it feels like running. I'm running away. From what? Why?

I enter the bathroom and turn on the water, splashing some on my face.

God, I'm an asshole. What the fuck am I doing? I completely freaked out when she said she loved
Stéphan. It wasn't jealousy. So... WHAT WAS IT??? I've been so busy throwing shit in boxes in
the back of my brain, I haven't bothered to think about how I actually feel.

So why did I freak out? Am I upset that she loves him? I think about it, really think about it. No.
I'm not upset. So it wasn't that she loves him. It was KNOWING that she loves him. It sounds like
the same thing, but it's not. Before I KNEW that she loved him, I could compartmentalize
everything. But KNOWING that she loves him means I have to address how I feel about Stéphan.

Because I love her. And I want her to be happy. I want to make her smile and laugh. I want to make
her heart skip a beat because mine does all the fucking time now. And her loving Stéphan means I
can't act like what's happening with the three of us is just sex. I have to figure out what Stéphan
means to me.

Before all this, we were friends. We worked well together. I respected him.

Now... well now, he drives me crazy. When he touches me or kisses me I short circuit. I've never
been submissive. To anyone. But Stéphan is... maybe he's more of a man than me. He knows who
he is and I obviously don't. He's comfortable with his desires and I've completely blocked out some
of mine.

It's not possible to just suddenly be attracted to men. But I've honestly never felt this way before. I
never even looked at a guy like that. Didn't let it enter even the smallest space of my awareness. I
wasn't blind. I could tell when a guy was attractive, but it didn't matter. At all. Unless we were
going after the same girl, which I make it a practice not to do.

But I'm attracted to Stéphan. Is it all guys? Or just him. Is that even a thing? Even that doesn't
make sense. We've been friends for too long. If I were attracted to him, I should have known by
now. And I hadn't. What does that MEAN?

This train of thought isn't getting me anywhere. And it doesn't explain why I freaked out when Y/N
told me she loves him. Was I afraid of examining all this? I'm not a pussy. I face fear every day.
But those are physical fears. Danger. This is emotional or psychological. It's different. I was. I was
afraid of unpacking all those boxes so I could figure out ... what?

...

...

That maybe I love Stéphan too. Or at least reallllllly like him. That physically he is changing who I
am. What I want. And emotionally... well he's doing SOMETHING. The only guy I've ever loved
is my brother. I didn't have a dad. So yeah, just Devon. In the military, I had squad mates that I
would have died for in a heartbeat. But even with them it wasn't love. It was duty and honor.

I've never let myself get close to a man before. Any man. My friendships with men are all surface
friendships. Devon is the only guy I've ever trusted. Fuck... is this about my dad? I don't trust men
because my fucking father was douchebag who left my mom???

God... maybe. Maybe that's why I never let myself think about a guy before. I obviously have
latent attraction. But I was so busy treating all guys like my dad, keeping them at arms length that I
never realized... I'm bi?

Then Y/N entered the picture and her attraction to Stéphan... what... what did it do? It forced me to
let someone get closer. To trust a man. And that... coupled with the fact that Stéphan is a good
man... and highly attractive... was just enough to get through my defenses.

Boxes on boxes on boxes. God... I'm psychotic. Fucking daddy issues? I've got daddy issues. And
I've convinced myself my entire life to just cut off half of how I feel so I wouldn't have to
acknowledge it.

And...

...

Yeah... I'm in love with Stéphan too. That's why I freaked out. I wasn't ready to unpack all these
fucking boxes. I was afraid. I still am. But at least I have a better understanding of what the fuck's
wrong with me. I don't know if that will help. But I can't keep running away. My future is in that
bed.

I wash my hands and look in the mirror above the sink.

"You're good," I whisper. "You got this. Don't be a pussy."

Y/N and Stéphan are cuddled together on the bed when I return. We're all still wearing the same
clothes. We'd taken Y/N to lay down after telling her about her friends and never bothered to take
them off. Gonna have to rectify that. But first.

"I owe you guys an apology," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed so I can look at them both.

"You already apologized," Stéphan says. "It's cool."

"No," I say. "No I need to say this."

Y/N looks at me, biting her lip. At least she's not crying anymore.

"I'm sorry Y/N," I begin. "I've been foistering the responsibility for our ... whatever this is... with
Stéphan off on you this whole time. I convinced myself that it was happening because YOU
wanted it to. Because you wanted him. And when you told me that you love him... I tried to push
my own feelings off on you because... well... I've got some issues. I don't want to go over it all. But
I think I'm still fucked up about my dad. I know that sounds ridiculous. I'm twenty-seven for fuck's
sake. But it's what I got.

"I freaked out because I was scared. I have pushed away so much of my own thoughts or feelings
for such a long time and having to acknowledge that I... too..."
I swallow hard. Not a pussy. I can do this.

"That I... too... have feelings for Stéphan meant I had to take a real look at myself and how I got to
where I am without knowing who I am or what I want. The truth is... I don't know. But I think it
goes to back to my dad. I think I have trust issues with men... guys. Whatever. But being with you,
being with both of you... It makes me feel whole in a way I don't think I ever have. And I want that.
I want that with both of you. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry for freaking out. And being a dick. Stéphan
I'm sorry for... I don't know... trying to fit you in a teeny, tiny box that you obviously don't fit in."

I had looked away. I wasn't strong enough to see their response. Couldn't look in their eyes while I
admitted all of this. But I turn back.

Y/N is crying again. Fuck. Did I not do it right?

"Baby," I say, crawling towards her. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm... I'm not
explaining this right. Shit."

"No," she says. "No, I'm okay. I'm... I'm not... Fuck... These aren't sad tears. They aren't exactly
happy tears either. I just... That was kind of beautiful. And... and you DO want us. It's... Ok yeah.
They're happy tears. I'm a mess. I'm sorry."

I cup her face and lean in, kissing the corners of each eye then her mouth. Soft. I love her mouth. I
really do. I lean my forehead against hers, my thumb sliding back and forth along her jaw.

"You forgive me then?" I ask.

I pull away so I can see her face.

"Yes, doofus," she says, smiling up at me.

"And you?" I ask, turning to Stéphan. "Will forgive me?"

He's looking at me with benevolence in his eyes, a slight lift to the corner of his mouth.

"Yes... doofus," he says, breaking into a grin.

He pulls me to him, kissing me hard. There's so much emotion in this kiss, I think I'm drowning in
it. Anxiety. Relief. His? Or mine? I don't know. We kiss for several beats, letting those emotions
wrap around us before we finally break apart.

I pull away from them both looking at them.

"Then we all have on way too many clothes," I say.

 Stéphan

Whole... David said we make him feel whole and he included me. Said he wants us. Both of us. It
seems he's beginning to accept things, a little. He said he has feelings for me. I caught that too. A
weight had lifted from my chest when he'd said it. Doesn't mean this might not still go to shit, but
I'm making progress.

"Then we all have on way too many clothes," David says.

"Do something about it," Y/N says.

She's so fucking cute.

I reach down to lift her shirt, but she stalls my hands, shaking her head.

"Him," she says, nodding at David.

He smiles, reaching for her shirt, but she stalls him too.

"No," she says. "I want you naked and tied up, like you promised. And none of that dumb medical
tape shit that you snapped in like a second."

I smile, remembering the scene I'd walked in on just before the bombing. There hadn't been time to
feel bad at the time. I'm not entirely sure I do now. I'd thrown open the door to find David 'bound'
with medical tape and Y/N's naked body above him. She'd looked like perfection. I hadn't known
at the time that we'd ever end up here.

David swallows. I think for a moment he is going to back out, but he pulls his shirt over his head in
a fluid motion. I don't bother hiding my smile. This is gonna be fun. I roll off the bed, and begin to
untie the strips I'd used on Y/N. When they're both free, I move to the head of the bed and begin
tying them there.

I see Y/N rise off the bed from the corner of my eye. David drops to his knees and pulls her into a
kiss. I turn and watch for a moment. They're mine. Both of them. They're really mine. I've had
relationships but nothing like this. They feel like home. I've never had that before and I have no
idea how it happened but I'm not giving it up.

I shake my head, turning back to the task at hand. The makeshift ties are in place. A bunk bed. I
can't wait to get them in a real bed, somewhere private. A hotel maybe. When we get through the
current crisis. We're switching locations in two days. Maybe I can at least arrange for a real bed.

I walk over to them, looking down at David. It's a rare opportunity given his height. I stand behind
Y/N, running a single finger down her spine. She shivers, pulling away from David.

"Get naked," I say.

I feel her take a breath, feel it catch in her throat.

"Okay," she says, her voice soft and breathless.

I slip my hand around her waist, pulling her against me before dipping my fingers inside her pants.

"Okay...what?" I ask. "What was it you called me without permission?"

My fingers slip between her folds, sliding against her clit, already slick with her creamy juices. Her
head falls back on my shoulder as I circle her clit.

"Okay... sir...," she whispers, inhaling a shaky breath between the words.

I run my tongue along my teeth and clench them, more pleased by how it sounded than I
anticipated.

"Good girl," I say, pulling my fingers away. "Now get naked."

Y/N takes a step to the side and begins to undress. She slides the sweatpants over her hips, letting
them fall to the floor. I take a step, and grab David's jaw, my fingers hard against his face. My lips
lower until they almost touch his.

"You remember the fantasy?" I ask.

He doesn't speak, but nods, his breath coming faster.

"Say yes," I say.

His body shifts as he swallows hard. I feel his chest rise in a deep breath. Feel it against my face as
he exhales.

"Yes," he says.

I hadn't been sure he would agree, but it seems he's getting brave. I smile as I dip my head, bringing
our lips together.

"Good choice," I say, our lips still touching. "Get on the bed."

My dick is already hard. Pulsing. I cannot wait for this. Haven't let myself believe I'd have the
chance. I'm going to enjoy driving them crazy. I turn to Y/N. She's pulling her shirt over her head,
naked and beautiful.

"You um... you know I haven't shaved in like a week," she says. "Right, sir?"

I smile.

"It'll be fine," I say, winking reassuringly.

David stands and moves towards the bed, clad only in a pair of sweat pants riding low on his hips.
He has such a nice back, muscled with two dimples just above his ass. I'm going to bite them at the
first opportunity.

"Tie his hands," I say to Y/N, nodding at David as I undress. I grab a condom from the shrinking
pile and place it on the bed for later. That had been an awkward conversation with Jeremiah, but
safety is important and I can't get her birth control replaced. Thank god he'd had some.

David settles himself on the bed, leaning backwards and giving Y/N his hands. I lean against it,
watching. I rather doubt Y/N had this in mind when she made the request, but she's going to enjoy
it. I'll make sure of it.

I sit at the end of the bed, casually naked. I've never minded being naked. Side-effect of being
raised in a boy's home. Y/N ties him tightly. Her fingers are shaking and I love it. Love knowing
how much we affect her. She finishes and walks towards me, hips swaying. I grab her, pulling her
close, a tiny gasp issuing from her throat as we kiss.
David's watching. Helpless where he's tied. I kiss her hard, drawing little moans from her mouth as
I bite and lick, a hand in her hair, angling her jaw back for a deeper angle. I hear him shift.
Watching us.

"Take his pants off," I say, releasing Y/N. I could have had him remove them first, but this is
better. She'll be just the slightest bit frazzled trying to wrangle them off. I want her frazzled. Want
her aching before I ever put my dick in her.

I watch it all from my place at the foot of the bed. Her tits bounce as she struggles with the pants
but he's finally naked. I crawl forward, and pick her up, positioning her over his thighs. His dick is
framed by her pussy as I slide in behind her, holding my weight off David's legs. I stroke her belly,
my hand slipping between her legs, playing in her wetness.

"Stroke his cock," I say.

"Y-yes sir," she responds, reaching forward.

David takes a strangled breath, pulling against his bonds as she strokes his dick. She matches her
rhythm to my fingers in her cunt. I finger her slowly, teasing as I lay little bites along her shoulder.
The noises they make go straight to my dick, aching where it's pressed against her back. It's not
time yet, but soon.

I increase the speed, pressing the heal of my hand into her clit as I slide my fingers in and out. God,
I want her. She's so wet. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, legs beginning to tremble. I reach
around with my other hand, squeezing her tits. I pinch her nipples, rolling them between my
fingers, knowing the visual is driving David wild. My teeth close on a little patch of her shoulder,
biting harder and harder until she cries out.

"That's it," I say, pulling my fingers out of her pussy. I raise them to her mouth, biting my lip while
she licks herself from my fingers. "You want me inside you don't you."

"God yes," she says.

I release her breast and push her down until her chest hits David's, his dick pressed against her
belly. My hand draws back, landing against her ass in a quick spank.

"Yes... what?" I ask, swatting her again.

"God... yes sir," she says, breathing hard. I swat her again.

"Don't forget again," I say, my hand rubbing against her ass where it's pinked up. I stroke my dick,
rubbing pre-cum over the head as I stare at David. His mouth is open, his breaths short.

"No sir," she says. "I'm sorry."

God she's fucking perfect as a sub. I wonder if any of the men before us knew what to do with her.
My fingers slide into her from behind. In and out, pressing against her g-spot. Rubbing it back and
forth. She grinds against David's dick and they both groan. I love it.

"Kiss him," I say, pulling my fingers out of her.

I reach for the condom and put it on my dick while she obeys. My dick flexes as I watch her kiss
him. Watch as she teases his mouth with her tongue, pulling away periodically so he strains against
his bonds. It's fucking hot. When I can stand it no longer, I lean forward, grabbing her by the hair
and pull her away.
I position her just so, pushing her hips down so her clit is touching David's shaft. My dick rests in
the crack of her ass. I shift, dragging it down, past her ass. She shivers when it touches her anus. I
make a note of that for another time.

"Say please," I say, positioning myself at her entrance. I slide my dick up and down the opening of
her pussy.

"Please, sir," she begs.

"It doesn't sound like you want it," I say, teasing her with the tip of my cock.

"Oh god, please," she says, her voice rising. "I need it."

I press down on her lower back, forcing her clit to rub against David's dick. His eyes roll back and I
love it. She seems to realize what I'm doing and continues the movement.

"Hmm," I say. "I don't know."

She grinds shamelessly against David.

"Fuck me sir, please," she cries. "I need it. I swear. I need you inside me. Please."

"That's better," I say.

I use my fingers to spread her pussy lips and shove myself deep.

They both groan, she from my cock inside her, David from the way she grinds against him.

"God, you're so tight," I say, slow stroking my dick inside her. "Fuck."

She shudders when I hit the back of her. Her moans come faster as I increase the speed.

"Oh my god," David says, his eyes closing in pleasure. "This is insane. What the fuck?"

Every movement of my hips pushes her clit against him. Grinding against his shaft. It's enough to
drive them both insane and I love it.

"It's so good," she says.

I smack her ass with one hand, gripping her hip with the other.

"I'm sorry sir," she cries out.

"I don't think you are," I say, smacking her again. "That's twice now."

I shove my dick deep inside her and hold it there as I lay several swats against her ass, enough to
brighten her cheeks a gorgeous shade of red.

"I-I am sir," she chokes out. "God, please. I'm sorry. Just fuck me sir. Please."

She's dripping wet, her juices covering David's dick and mine both.

"Bad girls don't get to come," I say.

"Fuck," she cries out.

I begin stroking again, fast, so fast.

"Who's a bad girl?" I ask.

She grunts, my thrusts hard and forceful.

"I am sir," she says, her legs shaking. "Please. I'm sorry. Please let me come."

"I don't think so," I growl.

David groans. It's a delicious sort of torture. Being so close, but not inside. Hearing what I'm doing
to her. Feeling her tremble against him.

"Sir, PLEASE," she begs. "I'll be good. I'll be so good."

"Not yet," I say, slamming into her, my own orgasm so close.

I want her to come on my dick. I want it so bad. Fuck. I pull out of her pussy, stroking my dick as I
push her forward.

"Come on his face," I say. "Ride his face until you come princess. Only good girls get to come on
my dick."

She cries out, crawling forward, her movements shaky and frantic. I pull the condom off my dick
and stroke it once, twice. Groaning as I come on David's stomach. Fuck. My creamy come looks so
hot on his stomach I can't stand it. I give my dick a little shake and let it fall, scooting down to the
foot of the bed.

Y/N grabs onto the top of the bunk bed, holding onto it for support as she slides her creamy cunt
against David's mouth. I watch for a moment, enjoying the visual and then dip down to take him in
my mouth. He's covered in her juices and I groan as I suck him deep. My hand grips the base,
stroking as I suck. He's already close, his dick thick in my mouth.

Y/N's moans grow louder and she's close too. I use my other hand to roll his balls in my fingers,
shoving his fat cock into the back of my throat. Fuck me.\ but I love it. So fucking hot. Making his
dick do what I want to. I want to taste his cum on my tongue. Want to hear him groan as he blows
his wad in my mouth.

I look up, watching as Y/N becomes more frantic, shoving her pussy back and forth, chin to nose.
That's right, baby. You ride his face.

I pull his dick out of my mouth.

"You come when she does or you won't get to," I say and shove him back in my mouth. His cock,
already impossibly fat swells. He's so close. She is to. I suck and stroke and push him closer.

"Now," I say when I can stand it no longer. "Both of you come right fucking now."

I push him back in my mouth and feel it hit the back of my throat as Y/N screams. So hot. God.
Both of them. I swallow his come as Y/N spasms against his mouth. Fucking perfection.

I lean up, pulling his dick out of my mouth and catch Y/N when she falls, unable to hold herself up
anymore.

That... was a god damned symphony. I'm rather impressed with myself as I tuck her against his
chest. She looks at me, her eyes glazed with pleasure. I run my fingers through my come, where it's
starting to dry on David's belly. She looks at me as I lift it to her lips.
"Lick them clean," I say.

She opens her mouth, licking my come off my fingers, nipping at them with her teeth. Little minx.

"That... was... incredible...," David says, watching her clean my fingers.

"I know," I say, smirking.

When my fingers are clean, I move around to the back of the bed where David's hands are tied,
releasing him. Y/N is rubbing my come into his stomach, absently. I smile to myself. Mine.
They're mine.
 Y/N

I lay in the crook of Stéphan's arm absently stroking the hair on his chest. David is spooning me,
an arm slung across us both while he sleeps.

"Sooooo...," I say nervously. "Do I call you sir all the time?"

"Only when I tell you," he says, his voice low and sleepy.

"Stéphan?" I say

"Hmm?" he responds.

"I love you," I say softly, kissing the side of his chest.

"I love you too, baby," he says, turning his body into mine. He wraps a leg over me.

"Will you tell me something about yourself?" I ask. "Something no one knows?"

"I'm gonna have to wear you out more next time, huh," he says, fingers stroking little circles on my
side and hip. "Okay. Something no one knows. Hmmm. Okay. Here's something. I only like soggy
cereal."

"Ewww, gross," I say. "Why?"

"When I was growing up, I lived in a home for orphaned boys," he says. "To save money on
breakfast, they would receive donations from hotels, the kind with the continental breakfasts. The
hotels would donate their cereal when it got too stale to feed to guests. So I would let it sit in the
milk until it got a little soggy. I never grew out of this, even when the cereal is completely fresh.
Same with oreos. They have to absorb enough milk that they are almost falling apart in my hand."

"You're an orphan?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging. "But it's not a big deal."

"It seems like it," I say.

"It's really not," he responds.

"Random question," I say. "Can you like... I don't know... hack my parents computers, so I can
watch my dad play solitaire or my mom shopping on Amazon when I miss them?"

"Of course baby," he says, squeezing me tightly. "Whenever you want."

"It's better if they think I'm dead, right?" I ask. "There's no way for me to give them a message that
wouldn't put everyone at risk?"

"Yeah," he says, sighing. "I know it's hard. I mean I don't know. But I imagine it's hard."

"Yeah," I say.

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly because I'm afraid I'll start to cry.

"Do you know what it means to me, that you're willing to leave them behind... for us?" he asks,
lifting my chin so he can look at my face. "It's literally everything. I'd do anything for you Y/N."

"I believe you," I say, pushing forward to lay a light kiss, chaste and sweet, on his lips.

"I don't know how this happened so fast," he says, tucking me against his chest. "But I wouldn't
give you up now for all the money in the world. You're mine and I don't think I'm ever going to let
you go."

"Same," I say softly.

His heart is beating, slow and steady.

"How old are you?" I ask, playing again with the hairs on his chest.

"I'm twenty-four," he says. "How old are you?"

It seems strange that we could feel so strongly about each other and not know these things already.
But love is strange.

"I'm nineteen," I say.

"What's your favorite food?" he asks.

The question brings tears to my eyes, because I hadn't prompted it. He just wants to know about
me. About things I like. I blink them away.

"I like all kinds of food," I say. "But if I had to pick, one thing and it was the only thing I could eat
for the rest of my life, I'd say sushi. I love sushi."

"There's a place in New York," he says, stroking my side again. "They do omakase. It's where you
don't pick what you eat. The chef prepares things for you, whatever he wants. Some of the most
delicious, exotic sushi you'll ever eat. I'm going to take you there."

"Really?" I ask, touched and intrigued. "I'd love that."

"Tell me something about you that no one knows," he says.

"I don't have many secrets," I say. "I've lived a relatively boring life up until the protests."

"Come on," he says, his tone light and amused. "There must be something."

I search my mind for something, anything.

"There's a scar on my leg, down by my knee," I say. "All my friends think it's from a motorcycle
accident. But it's not. When I was nine, I was sliding down a slide at the park and there was a piece
of metal wedged into the bottom. It stabbed me."

"Why tell them it was from a motorcycle accident?" he asks. "Why not tell the truth?"

"Cause the truth is lame," I say, laughing. "I had to walk home with this metal thing in my leg,
bleeding and crying. My mom freaked out."

"Moms do that," he says. "Or so I've heard."

"What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?" I ask, changing the subject.
"Butter pecan," he says. "But I only like it from Coldstone Creamery. All the rest, the texture of the
nuts ruins it for me. Coldstone does something so that it tastes the same, but there's no pecan
pieces. What's yours?"

"Strawberry," I say. "But I like it best with mini chocolate chips or chocolate shavings. Do you like
to read?"

He chuckles.

"I love to read," he says.

"What's your favorite book?" I ask.

"Oh god," he says. "I could never pick just one. But I like old science fiction. Piers Anthony, Isaac
Asimov, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman."

"Oh my god," I say. "I love them too. My favorite series is the Death Gate Cycle."

"So we're both nerds," he says, kissing my forehead. "Good to know."

"You're the hottest nerd I've ever seen," I say.

"You should have seen me in middle school," he says, laughing. "I was so cringey."

"Me too," I say. "I think everyone in middle school is cringey. I played the clarinet and was in the
marching band."

"Shut up, really?" he asks, laughing. "I couldn't afford an instrument, so I never played. I spent all
my free time in the library on the computer."

"That's how you learned to hack?" I ask.

"Sort of," he says. "The base of it anyway. The guy who ran the computer science lab showed me a
few things and it grew from there."

"What was your first hack?"

"My school, of course," he says. "I changed my grades and wiped my record so I could get into
college."

"What was your favorite hack?"

"Your heart," he says, not missing a beat.

"Oh my god," I say, laughing as I slap his chest. "That's some real cheeseball shit right there. Like
extra cheesy."

"You liked it," he says.

"It was moderately cute," I respond. "So how bad was this record? Were you a bad guy⁵?"

"Bad enough," he says. "I got into a lot of fights. There was always some asshole who wanted to
try me."

"I've never been in a fight," I say. "Weren't you scared?"

"Naw," he says. "Fighting kids is nothing compared to fighting men. I had a few foster parents that
liked to prove how strong they were."

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice soft.

"I'm not," he says. "I like who I am. Everything that's ever happened to me had to happen or I'd be
different."

"I like who you are too," I say. "I never thought of it like that."

"I didn't use to," he says. "I used to hate my life. I was so jealous of kids like you. Hateful and
envious. It wasn't until I hooked up with Anonymous that I learned to accept who I am. They gave
me a purpose. A reason for everything."

"They're like your family," I say.

"They were," he says softly. "Things have changed."

He pulls me up to meet his mouth. I'd thought it would be soft and sweet. Like our conversation,
but his mouth is hard, hungry, and demanding. Like I'm air and he needs me to live.

I moan when he bites my lip, opening myself to him and whatever it is he needs. Because he
DOES need me. I can feel it everywhere we touch. Like he's feeding off my love for him.

I want to give him everything. To fill his heart with it until he KNOWS how much I care. His
mouth on me is desperate and it's intoxicating to be what he needs.

"Mmmmm," David says, rousing from my moans or our movement. "Again. Let's do it again."

I gasp as David bites my shoulder, his teeth closing on my skin with aching deliciousness. I'm
dying. Burning between them. I don't care. I'd let them kill me I think.

I love this feeling. The frenzy of it. They make me feel like they'll die without me. That's how I
feel too. How they always make me feel.

The entire world drops away when I'm in their arms. Everything goes quiet. They make my soul
sing, my heart swell, and my pussy - well that bitch don't even know how to act around the two of
them.

"DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY, NOBODY MOVE."

My heart stops beating.

 David

No, no, NO.

How did they find us? I look at the men in the doorway, outfitted with Special Ops gear and assault
rifles. Even if I could get to a weapon, there's too many. The last thing I want is for Y/N to get
hurt.

Fuck.

I glance at Stéphan and see that he's come to the same realization. We commune silently in the
dark. Go quietly. Protect Y/N. At all costs, protect her.

"We're unarmed," I say, lifting my hands. Stephan does the same.

"Put your hands up, baby," Stephan says. "These guys don't fuck around. They'll shoot you."

I look at her, eyes wide, hands shaking as she lifts them into view.

"Secure the perimeter."

I don't understand how they found us. We've been so careful. Our security systems should have
picked this up way before now. Our intel is better than this. We KNOW when shit's coming. How
the fuck did they find us?

"Take them."

"We're cooperating," Stephan says. "But we're naked. Give us a chance to get dressed at least."

I hear whispering as the men surround us.

"Subjects are naked. Proceed with takedown?"

A radio clicks, the voice coming through staticky.

"Confirmed."

Dammit. That's a bad sign.

"Don't say anything," I say. "Just keep asking for a lawyer."

I am pulled out of the bed, wrestled to the ground and restrained. The man shoves his knee into my
back, forcing the air from my lungs. I could have fought back. Could have gained the advantage.
But not with Y/N possibly in the crossfire. Fucking pig. He secures my wrists with a zip tie.

Y/N screams, the sound sending a rush of protectiveness through my heart. I turn my head to look
at her. She's clutching the sheet to her chest as a man tries to tear it away. Fuck. She looks so
scared. How could this happen? How did we let this happen?

Stephan stands, keeping his hands visible. It doesn't matter. He's tackled to the ground. I watch,
horrified, as Y/N is treated the same way. They throw her off the bed, and she screams, fighting
and kicking as a man twice her size pins her to the floor.

"Feisty," he says. "I like em like that."

God. No. Please don't let them hurt her.

"LEAVE HER ALONE," I yell.

"She's not part of this," Stephan says. "Just a chick we picked up at the protests."

That's a good idea. Maybe if we just keep singing that song, they'll let her go. It's a pipe dream. I
hear the men whispering and laughing. Judging her because she was found in bed with the two of
us. I swear to god if one of them touches her, so help me god, I'll destroy everything. The whole
fucking world.

She stills at his words. I watch her face fall. She has to know he didn't mean it. That he's trying to
protect her. The man cuffs her using zip ties, dragging her roughly from the floor.

"Subjects in custody. Let's tear it down boys."

I hear them dismantling our hardware and searching the premises.

"Do you have a warrant?" Stephan asks, his voice calm.

Someone laughs.

"You hear this shit?" someone asks. "He thinks he's being arrested."

My blood runs cold.

Certain departments in the government essentially have carte blanche. They can get away with
anything. If we aren't being arrested, this just went from bad to worse. They aren't going to read us
our rights. There won't be any charges. No bail. No trials or juries. This is bad. This is really bad.
Y/N doesn't know anything but they won't believe her.

I'm assuming they captured Devon and Jeremiah as well. The rest of the team is spread out in
different locations. But if they got to this one, they could have gotten them all. They could
conceivably have our entire DC branch of operatives in custody.

They cover us with sheets, but refuse to bring our clothes. I can only imagine how scared Y/N must
be. Naked and bound. Held by a faceless branch of Homeland Security. God. Devon was right. I
should never have involved her. But then she'd be dead. She'd have died in the bombing. At least
she's alive. As long as she's alive, there's a chance we can get her out.

We are transported in separate vehicles. I have been tracking our turns and how long we travel in
each direction, but I'm not familiar with where they've taken us. It isn't any known government
facility. It's got to be a black ops. We have intel on the others. I'd have known where we are.

The transport comes to a stop and we're pulled from the vehicles. They don't bother being nice,
pulling and shoving. Y/N falls, crying out as her knees scrape the ground. Bastards. My heart
breaks as I look at Y/N. Her eyes are puffy and red. She's terrified. Dammit, this wasn't supposed to
happen. I thought I could protect her.

Devon and Jeremiah don't seem worse for the wear. They at least have clothes. My brother shoots
me a look I can't decipher. His eyes move to Y/N and back to me. I shake my head. This isn't her
fault. She didn't do this.

They push us into holding rooms. I fall to my knees when they shove me through the door. There's
nothing in the room, the walls and floor made of stainless steel. No chairs or a bed. It's cold.
Sterile. I've been in worse places, but my mind continually goes back to Y/N. At how all of this
must look to her. At how scary it must be.

My brother and I are used to self-sacrifice. In the military, you know at any time that you might
die. It never mattered before. It does now. I have to get out of here. Have to get Y/N out of here.
The only problem is... I don't have a plan.

The lights go out and I cringe. It doesn't bother me, but this type of psychological torture will be
awful for her. I count the seconds to keep track of time. After about three hours, I hear banging and
screaming. My heart aches. It's Y/N. The sound is muffled, but I can make out her words.

"Let me out of here you bastards," she screams. "LET ME OUT!"

She keeps screaming for several minutes. The banging slows. My baby. My poor baby. Fuck. It's
useless. I know it, but she doesn't. She's never faced anything like this. She eventually stops. I tell
myself I can still hear her crying, but it could just as easily be my imagination.

After eight hours, I relieve myself in the little grate in the middle of the room. After twelve, I
defecate in a corner. There's nothing to wipe with so I tear strips off the sheet. Fucking government.
So much for the home of the free.

Approximately twenty hours pass before I hear the door rattle. The light comes on, harsh after so
long in the dark. I blink, using my hand to block the light as a man walks through the door. He
surveys the room, taking note of my shit in the corner. Of the pieces of sheet I used to wipe.

He turns and begins to walk out.

"Wait," I say, pushing off the floor. "Just wait."

The man stalls his steps, but doesn't speak.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"We have what we want," the man says, turning back to me.

"No, you don't," I respond. "Or you wouldn't have come in here. Tell me what you want."

Y/N begins screaming again and banging on the door. She does it every few hours, pounding
against the metal door until she wears herself out. I wince. I try to hide it, but his eyes are keen on
me. He notices.

"We want Anonymous," he says. "That's you. We have what we want."

"She isn't part of Anonymous," I say. "She's just a girl. She's innocent. She got injured during the
protest. Let her go and I'll tell you anything you want."

"Funny," he says. "The guy in the room next door said the same thing. So who is she, really? I
highly doubt you'd go to such lengths to protect her if she wasn't important."

"She's an innocent girl," I say. "She doesn't deserve this kind of treatment. Look her up. She's
clean."

"Such a gentleman," he says. "You'd trade your whole organization for her release. Must be quite
the fuck."

I clench my hands, reigning in my temper. Losing it will accomplish nothing. This man obviously
knows nothing about Anonymous or how we work. There is no 'whole organization' to trade. But
we have beds of decoy servers and a few abandoned locations with enough 'data' to appear legit. I'll
happily hand him all of it if Y/N goes free.

"You don't want your own freedom?" he asks.

"I wouldn't argue if you offered it," I say. "But there's no reason for her to be here. She doesn't
know anything besides the size of my dick. I hate to think about an innocent girl being subjected to
this kind of treatment."

"She can't be that innocent," he says. "She was fucking both of you. Maybe she fucks your whole
team. You guys just pass her around like a whore."

"SHE'S INNOCENT," I yell, banging my fist against the wall. My jaw flexes angrily.

I cringe as Y/N's banging takes on renewed vigor. The sound must have carried.

"Maybe we should pass her around the boys," he says. "See if she inspires such loyalty from
everyone who fucks her."

He's baiting me. I know he is. What I don't know... is why. What does he gain from this?

"I see," I say, my voice hard and caustic. "Your dick is too small to get a woman without raping a
helpless prisoner. Totally makes sense now."

He draws a taser from his hip and shoots me. I grunt, leaning against the wall, my gaze filled with
fury as the current passes through me. It would take more than this to drop me, but I'm sure he
knows it.

"Pussy," I squeeze out from between painfully clenched teeth.

He takes a deep breath and grins.

"I love your type, you know," he says. "So entertaining."

He turns and walks out the door, closing it behind him with a click. I let myself fall to the floor,
despondent. My hands clench and I can't help but beat them against the floor. She'll hear. But I
can't help it. My fury is overpowering. At least I know Stéphan is fighting for her as much as me.
 Stéphan

I pace the floor of the small cell. I had made my offer hours ago. There were tons of locations and
data I could give them. It should be a no-brainer, but I've heard nothing. I lean against the wall,
letting myself sag. I drop my head into my hands.

Everything had been going so well. Y/N. David. It felt like I'd won the lottery. I've never before
been so purely happy. Every minute with them felt like heaven. Now it's gone. Ruined. I only just
found her. We barely had any time. And David... God...

White hot rage blinds me as I think about what the government has stolen from me. At Y/N locked
in a room like this, scared and naked. At David and his new acceptance. About all the things I had
planned. I will get out of here. And these people will pay. All of them.

The light comes on in my cell. Bout fucking time. I take a deep breath, composing myself. I need to
be clear-headed. The doorknob rattles as the door slides open. Two men enter this time. Great. Just
what I need. More pigs.

I stand, wrapping the sheet around my waist.

"We have a counter proposal," one of them says.

"I'm listening," I say, my eyes darting between them.

"You and your team work for us," he says. "The girl goes free. Any actions against the government
will result in her death. Of natural causes of course. You'll be subject to constant surveillance and
all international travel, restricted. You play ball, or she dies. It's that simple."

"You want to turn me into a government puppet," I say, paraphrasing.

"Your skills are too valuable to waste," the second says. "Your team operates well beyond our
internal people. We need that."

"You'll be fitted with a tracking device, of course," the first says. "And all computer activity will be
monitored."

"That's it?" I ask.

"You'll have to muzzle your dog," the first says. "I already had to taze him."

I grit my teeth. David... god... I consider what could have possibly happened to make them taze
him. This bastard referring to him as a dog pisses me off. He's obviously on a power trip, probably
threatened Y/N. I make note of his face, putting him at the top of my list.

"She hasn't been harmed?" I ask.

"No one's touched her," the second says. "I wouldn't go so far as to say she's unharmed. It's all self-
inflicted though."

"I want to talk to her," I say.

"Absolutely not," the second says.

"Then no dice," I say. "Either bring her here or take me to her and you've got a deal. Would be a
shame to lose all our talents because you couldn't bend on a five minute conversation."

The two men look at each other. Billy bad ass with the tazer lets his shoulders drop. I let out a sigh
of relief.

"Fine," they say in unison. "We'll take you to her."

"I want her released within the hour," I say. "All of us actually. We'll need clothes and shoes."

"Fine," they repeat. "Just get on with it already."

They walk me to the door, one of them holding each arm, as if I'm going to run away. Like I'd
leave here without her. Of course, they don't know that. For all they know, she's a random. The
second suit holds a key card up to a sensor and the door clicks. I reach for the knob.

"Five minutes," tazer boy says.

"I got it," I respond.

I open the door to find Y/N unconscious. My rage must have shown on my face. Both men take a
step back, holding up their hands.

"Self-inflicted," they say.

Fucking bastards.

I step into the room and pick her up. The door closes behind me. I move into a corner of the room
and stand Y/N up, leaning her against the wall. I hold her up with one hand, using the other to pull
the sheet from my hips. I carefully lay her down on top of it, struck by how small and helpless she
looks. Her hands are red and swollen, tear tracks staining her face. Her knees are scraped, the
blood drying to a dull brown. They are gonna fucking pay.

"Baby," I say softly. "Come on. Wake up. I don't have much time."

I give her face a couple of little pats.

She stirs in my arms and I sigh with relief. It's probably just dehydration. Not sure how that's
considered self-inflicted, but I already am formulating a plan to deal with these asshats. They're
gonna suffer. I can't fucking wait.

"It's me baby," I say. "I'm here. Wake up please."

"Stéphan?" she asks, her eyes fluttering. "Is that you."

"Yeah," I say. "I'm here."

Her eyes shoot wide open and she sits up. Adrenaline maybe. I don't know. It doesn't matter. I
crush her in my arms, squeezing her tightly. She's okay.

"I'm so sorry baby," I say, pulling back enough to look at her. I push her hair out of her face. "I'm
here. I'm right here."

"How?" she asks. "How'd you get in?"

"I cut a deal," I respond. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Stéphan, no," she says. "It's not worth it."

"It is," I say, bending down to whisper in her ear. "In seven days, go to the train station. Take the
first train to Philadelphia. When you get there, wait in the bathroom. I'll send you instructions. Nod
if you understand?"

She nods and a weight I hadn't known I'd been carrying lifts. God, I hope this works. It's going to
take all my connections. But maybe between David and me, we can pull it off.

"What do I tell my parents?" she whispers.

"Shit," I say. "I hadn't thought about that. Tell them... fuck... think Stéphan. They're going to be
watching you. So you have to go home. I don't want to put your parents at risk. It's gotta be...
fuck... yeah... that's the only way. Write a suicide note. Leave it on your bed. Be vague."

She chews her lip apprehensively.

"If you still want to be with us, that is," I say. Fuck, now I'm apprehensive. "If this is all too much.
If it's been too scary, I'll understand."

"No," she says.

God... I'd been afraid of that. My shoulders sag.

"No, it's not like that," she says quickly, reading my body language. "Of course I want to be with
you. I just can't believe you're really here. You came for me."

"I'll always come for you," I say.

"I love you too," she whispers. "What about David? Is he okay?"

"He got himself tazed," I say, thankful that's all it was. "But he's okay. He's going to help with
this."

I think he is anyway. It's not like I've had a chance to talk to him. But I'm sure he will.

"Oh my god, they hurt him?" she asks, raising her hands to her mouth.

"He's okay," I say, reassuringly. "He's a big guy. He can handle it."

I hate that they hurt him. They're going to pay for that too.

"As long as he's okay," she says.

"Listen, they'll be back any minute," I say. "I'm sure they're listening. Check your email every day.
If I have to change something I'll send you an email. Something weird that goes to your junk mail. I
have to find out how much they were able to hear."

"Okay," she says.

I kiss her then. Kiss her with all the fear and anxiety I've experienced since they took us. All the
love in my heart. All my fear for the future. This is gonna work. It has to. Her arms wrap around
my shoulders and she kisses me back. She kisses me like she may never get another chance.
There's anguish in it. And terror. But love. Under everything, it's love. My heart swells.

The door opens. It's the asshat that tazed David.

"Let's go loverboy," he says.

I give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Be careful," she says as I pull away.

"Always," I says.

I stand and exit the room not even caring that I'm naked. Please let this work.
 Y/N

The lights had come on half an hour or so ago. They hurt my eyes. The sound of the door opening
is loud, echoing around the small room. A pile of clothes lands on the floor. They look like
hospital scrubs.

"Get dressed," a voice says. "You have five minutes."

The door shuts and I scramble towards the clothes. I feel nasty, but wearing clothes is better than
being naked.

Up until I'd woken in Stéphan's arms, I'd been convinced I was going to die here. The terror has
consumed me. I have no idea how long it's been. Stuck in the dark with only my thoughts and fears
for company, time seems to have stood still. I've spent much of it crying in a corner. When the
darkness and fear became overwhelming I banged on the door. It didn't matter. No one came.

I'd held my bodily functions as long as possible, eventually giving up on keeping the sheet to cover
myself. It was all I had to wipe with. I'd cried in the dark as I shit in the corner like an animal.

I don the clothes quickly, tying the little drawstring on the pants into a bow. I'm getting out of here.
Stéphan and David are getting me out. I'm not going to die. I replay everything he'd said over and
over, like calming music at a spa. Seven days. I won't see them for seven days. That's like twice as
long as we've been together. I don't know how I will be able to last that long without them.

I slip the canvas shoes onto my feet and go back to my corner drawing my knees up to my chest.
They're okay. Thank god they're okay. We're all gonna be okay. We just have to get through this.

The door opens and I quickly stand, wiping absently at my tears. I haven't been able to stop crying.
Not even after seeing Stéphan. It's fear I think.

"Let's go," a voice says. I walk forward, holding my head high. I want to run. To cower. But I won't
give them the satisfaction.

I step out the door and see David, similarly clad. Now I run. I can't help it. I'm so happy to see him.
He picks me up, crushing me to his chest. I start to cry again. Or maybe I never stopped. He kisses
me, fast little kisses all over my face, as if he can't believe I'm here. I grab his head, pulling him
into a lingering mouth kiss.

"Enough."

They guy who had released me from my room pulls me out of David's arms.

"At least let us say goodbye," he says.

Wait... we aren't leaving here together? I look in David's eyes. They're veiled, giving away nothing,
but he seems to know more than I do.

"Look, taze me again," David says. "I don't care. But I'm saying goodbye."

He takes a step, pulling me back into his arms. I jump and he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around
his waist as we kiss.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again," I say, my lips moving against his mouth. "Are you hurt?
They tazed you?"

"I'm okay, baby," he says. "What about you? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine," I say, shaking my head.

He hugs me then and I whisper in his ear.

"Stéphan has a plan," I say.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he says loudly, ignoring my words. He's probably right. It's safer.

"All right, enough," the man says. "You've said goodbye."

David sets me down, but I'm swept up in a hug from behind. Stéphan. I let them close in around
me, filling me with a sense of perfect peace. It doesn't last. The man drags me away from them.

"You guys don't listen for shit," he says. "Fucking freaks."

David takes a step toward us, his eyes furious. Stéphan grabs his arm, pulling him back.

"Be chill," he says. "She's okay."

David scowls, clenching his fists.

"Don't ruin everything because you just had to punch someone," Stéphan says. "He'll get what he
deserves. Karma and all that."

"Yeah, okay," David says. "I'm cool."

"Take her to her parent's house," Stéphan says. "You get nothing until I can see for myself that
she's home safe."

"Whatever," the man holding me says. "Let's go princess."

I pull out of his grasp, rounding on him. This is the man that had tazed David. He's been a dick
from square one and I've had it.

"Don't fucking call me that," I say. "I'm not your princess."

He reaches for the tazer at his belt, but I don't care.

"Use that on me and I'll sue your ass so fast your head will spin," I say. "I've done nothing wrong,
but you've manhandled me, starved me and treated me like an animal. You want the media camped
out at your door? TikTokers harassing your whole family?"

"You can't hurt me," he says, but looks around with what appears to be nervousness.

"The President of the United States is afraid of us," I say. "Who the fuck are you?"

I turn and begin walking away. That had felt good. That had felt really good. I wink at the boys as I
walk pass them. They are both staring open-mouthed. And THAT feels good too. Never hurts to
remind them I'm not entirely helpless.

Dick for brains catches up to me, taking my arm, albeit gently as he escorts me out of the facility
and into a car. I watch from the back seat as David and Stéphan are put into another car. Jeremiah
and Devon a third. I reach up, placing my hand on the window. David does the same and it makes
my heart beat faster.

Seven days. I have to make it seven days.

********

My mother dissolves in hysterics when she opens the door and finds me standing on the steps. She
screams for my father and captures me in a tight hug. I find myself crying too as my father drags us
both back into the house, throwing his arms around us. We stay that way for a long time.

"We thought you were dead," Mom says, sniffling.

"What happened?" Dad asks.

I had thought about what I would say on the way over here. How I would answer these questions. I
don't want to lie to them about everything. I weave bits of the truth in with the lies.

"The cops shot me," I say. "In the leg. One of the protesters rescued me and took me to get medical
attention. The protesters have tents set up. We didn't have access to a phone. The government is
blocking all communications so I couldn't reach you, but I wasn't in the bombing. I was far enough
away to be safe. Today's the first day I've been well enough to travel."

It sounds reasonable. It's not like I could say I've been busy getting my brains fucked out. Or falling
in love. I definitely can't tell them about the homeland security raid or how those bastards treated
me.

My poor parents. They've been through so much and it's not going to get any easier. I suffer a pang
of guilt. They're so relieved and in seven days, I'm going to 'die'. They're going to go through all
this again and it will be my fault. I let myself soak up their love, knowing I don't deserve it.

My mom makes me a sandwich while I take a shower. I find myself crying in the shower. I already
miss David and Stéphan. My body aches, every movement reminding me of them. I have little
fingerprint bruises on my ass and a myriad of love bites. I miss them so much. I didn't think I could
miss them so much so quickly. I can hardly think of anything without getting glimpses of the things
we've done. Their naked bodies. The way they held me after my friends were killed. I give into the
feeling and cry myself out in the shower. I won't be able to pass it off around my parents so its just
as well.

I sit on my bed in a towel after my shower. It feels weird to be in my room, picking out something
to wear from my clothes. Everything feels like it belongs to someone else. Too much has changed.
I slip on a tshirt and a pair of yoga pants, thinking back to that first day. God. It seems so long ago.
So many things have happened since then.

For days I let my parents dote on me, soaking up their love and burying my guilt. It has to be this
way. There's no other way. I check my email each day but there's nothing until the fourth day. My
heart skips a beat when I see the junk mail folder is bold. I swallow, running my finger along the
laptop mouse sensor and click it.

VIAGARA&CIALIS 50% OFF

Take advantage of this one time offer and spend less on your male enhancement products.

<<CLICK HERE>>
I click the link and watch code fly across my screen. After a moment a message box appears with a
security question.

The rest of my computer screen is gone. Black. It doesn't appear to be running on windows
anymore.

The question blinks several times as I fight the urge to cry. It's them. It's really them. The last two
days especially have felt like everything with them was a dream. The more my body heals, the
further away they feel.

But it happened. This is them.

The security question continues to blink in bold letters.

<<HOW DO I EAT MY CEREAL>>

I take a deep breath and begin to type.

<<soggy

A new string of code flies across my screen for several minutes. I don't understand what any of it
means. When it finally stops, there are two icons. One of them says 'READ ME FIRST". I click on
it. A text box opens.

Change of Plans

Hey baby,

First off, we hope you are well. The reunion with your parents looked touching. Don't be mad. We
hacked your ring doorbell so we could be sure you made it safely.

This message is completely secure, so don't worry about that. It's heavily encrypted and has been
routed through about a hundred and fifty countries.

Now for the important shit. We've had to change all our plans. They heard everything. That's okay.
We're going to move things up. This needs to pop off tomorrow. You'll need to wear a second set of
clothes under the first, as different as possible. The underneath clothes need to be plain,
nondescript. Wear bright colors. Bring a hat and something to put your hair up. Wear it down on
the way there. And wear a mask. Something bright if you have it.

There's a memorial tomorrow for the fallen protesters. Tell your parents you're going to mourn
your friends. The memorial begins at two-thirty, but you need to go to Union Station instead. Try to
get there around two-fifteen. There's a train to Philadelphia at three. I've reserved you a ticket. Go
to the ticket counter and pick up the ticket. Then go to the bathroom by Dunkin Donuts. A girl who
generally resembles you will be waiting inside.

Ask if she has the time. The code phrase is "There is no time. We made it up." If she says
ANYTHING ELSE, abort mission and go home to your parents. We'll try again. If she gives you the
code phrase, give her the ticket and your clothes, including your mask. Put your hair up under the
hat and take the mask she gives you. At two-forty five exactly, you'll both walk out of the bathroom.
Go to the main entrance and exit the building. There will be a silvery-blue nissan altima waiting at
the curb. Get in it.

You must memorize these instructions and all of the times. Do not take any notes. Read through it
several times. Then close the window. When the window closes, the link will disappear and you
can access the other prompt. It's a chat screen. Come say hi. We miss you.

Love, S&D

I follow the instructions, but can't concentrate to save my life. In the other prompt I can talk to
them. I miss them so much. I read it ten times before I feel confident I'll remember. As I close the
window I feel giddy with excitement. I click the chat prompt and watch code flying across my
screen. It stops eventually with a black screen and a blinking white cursor. I type in it, my
heartbeat racing.

>>hi

several seconds go by before there is a response

<<hey baby. it's david. how are you

>>i'm okay. i miss you. where's stephan?

<<we miss you too. this chat won't last long so you won't be able to talk to him. he's running an
errand. we're being heavily monitored. are you good with the plan for tomorrow?

>>yeah, but what about my parents? they're going to be expecting me to come home after the
memorial

<<we've got that taken care of. i don't have time to tell you now, but it's handled.

>>i can't wait to see you

<<god, me neither. you don't know how much we've missed you. i gotta go before this pops up on
someone's radar. we'll see you tomorrow ok?

>>i love you. give stephan a kiss for me.

<<we love you too baby.

My screen flashes blue and my computer begins to reboot. Tomorrow. I get to see them tomorrow.
 David

We've been working day and night since they let us out. There are the many tasks issued by the
government along with a laundry list of personal things. We're so heavily monitored, it's hard to
operate. Every action takes seventeen to keep it from being detected. The government is convinced
they have control. They don't. It's kinda funny.

Our first task was to find out if they had heard the communication between Stéphan and Y/N while
we were being held by the government. It had been recorded, but we couldn't tell if anyone had
listened to it or not. We're operating under the assumption that they did but we have no real way of
knowing.

So we came up with a new plan. All those details had to be ironed out and set up. Then there's the
war against homeland security. At this point, it's all prep work. Background moves and information
gathering. We aren't going to do anything until Y/N is safely back with us.

It's ready though. We have a file on each employee with essentially everything they've ever done
wrong. Affairs. Criminal activity. Drug use. Cover ups. Personal use of government funds.
Everything. It will be a shit storm of epic proportions.

Simmons suggested we blow their networks and fuck with their phones. The code's written for the
phones. We just have to say the word and hit the kill switch for all their phones to automatically
forward incoming and outgoing calls to a phone sex service.

Blowing the networks is a bigger deal. It will absolutely be brandied about as a terrorist act. The
goal is to send them back to the dark ages. No phones. No internet. No email. We've backed up all
the data and I'm working now on the virus to kill the whole network and delete all their files.

It's never been done against any branch of the government. It's a united attack occurring on every
server and back-up server. We called in everyone. The attack will start when our latest video
begins. This time, we're pushing it out everywhere. Every major news station. A bunch of minor
ones. Cellular towers. If you live in the United States and are watching any kind of screen it will
transmit our message.

Y/N had asked once about the wrath of Anonymous. We're gonna show her. This is what we are
capable of. Lives will be irrevocably changed. The lies these people have told to maintain their
power and position will crumble. We have financial records amounting to billions of tax dollars
that have been mis-allocated. Corruption in every level of office. If we have our way, the entire
department will be disbanded.

It's all scheduled to begin at the end of the video. That should give us enough time to have Y/N
tucked away and her decoy to disappear. We've of course built in an abort function, in the event
something goes wrong with our plan to get Y/N.

We've secured the documents we need for a new identity, not just for her but us also. Stéphan's
right. We need to be ghosts when this goes down. Everything we need to disappear has been
prepared.

The final part of the plan is her parents. Stéphan was able to get into the video records of the
black-ops facility where were held. A copy of the video will be delivered to her parents and to the
media. The video showing her release has been wiped. They won't think she's dead. They'll think
the government has her.
We're as ready as we can be. It doesn't keep me from checking and re-checking and checking my
re-checks. I carry a measure of guilt for everything that happened with homeland security. There
was a tiny fragment of metadata in the code that allowed them to track it back to our warehouse. I
would have sworn I had scrubbed it, but I had to have missed something. I wasn't exactly in my
right mind when I thought Devon had died in the bombing. But that's not an excuse.

I was careless and it had put our whole team at risk. It won't happen again. Period. So I review
everything. Over and over.

Stéphan walks in, dropping a small bag of groceries and a set of keys on the table. He comes over
to where I'm sitting in front of eight computer screens. DHS had given it back to us when they let
us go. We'd had to replace some of it. Dickwads had fucked it up when they dismantled it.

I don't even know why they bothered taking it. They weren't able to get past our security protocols
or encryptions. That was a given. But I guess they hadn't known it.

Stéphan walks up to me, dropping down to hug me from behind, his arms resting on my shoulders.

"Y/N messaged in the chat you set up," I say. "She's on board. She's ready."

"Damn," he says. "I missed her?"

"Yeah," I say. "What were you doing anyway?"

"It's a surprise," he says. "How many times have you looked over this code?"

"I don't know," I say, absently. "I haven't kept track."

"It wasn't your fault," he says, leaning his head against mine.

"It was," I say. "There's literally nowhere else to lay the blame."

"Come on," he says. "Come to bed."

"I can't," I respond.

"You can," he says. "Come on. You can check it one last time in the morning. It isn't going
anywhere."

He pulls on the rolling desk chair and I move slowly away from the bank of computers. I could
have stopped him if I'd wanted to. But I don't.

I've come to relish the nights we've spent together. I hadn't thought I would. Had thought it would
be strange without Y/N there to bridge the gap, so to speak. But this was my insecurities talking.
We haven't had sex, but we trade off on who gets to be the little spoon. It isn't as bad as I'd thought
it would be. Sometimes, I even think it's kind of nice.

I'd thought it would be weird to talk with my brother too, but Devon didn't even blink funny when
he found Stéphan and I in a bunk together. He'd asked if we wanted breakfast and gone on about
his business. I don't know if he already had some inkling of whatever it is I've pushed down for
years. Or if it just really doesn't matter to him. Maybe some combination of both. Regardless, it
hadn't been weird at all.

"Okay, fine," I say.

He pulls me up out of the chair, slinging his arm around my waist as we walk towards the room
with the bunk beds. With Y/N gone, the team had gone back to sleeping in there. Now that we
weren't fucking until all hours of the night.

We tiptoe past Devon, taking the same bunk we'd taken when Y/N was here. The scent of her is
still on it, faint, but it's there. I'm going to drown myself in that scent when we get her back.

I lay down and Stéphan crawls in behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and sliding his
other beneath my head. A month ago, I could have never slept this way. Now I don't know how I
managed not being a little spoon before. Stéphan's breath caresses my ear as I try to relax. It's not
working. I'm too amped up, thinking about tomorrow. I can't wait to see Y/N.

"Okay," Stéphan says. "Plan B. You're too tense to fall asleep. Go get in the shower."

It had been a struggle, accepting his dominance. Sometimes, I still fight against it. But tonight
there's no fight in me. I don't want to have to think. Or decide. I stand and walk to the bathroom,
choosing the last shower stall.

I step out of my pants, and toss them on the bench. Stéphan follows me, taking his shirt off and his
pants. I'm struck again by how sexy he is. Muscled, but not overly so. Tall, but not as tall as me. He
has a dimple on one cheek when he smiles. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it with our other
clothes before turning the water on.

He grabs the body wash and pours some into his hands, working it into a lather. I step under the
spray and let it wash over me, enveloping me in warmth. He steps in close behind me and begins to
soap my back, massaging with strong fingers. I hear myself moan and don't care. It feels good. I
needed this.

Stéphan pushes me under the spray, the soap running off my back. He drops to his knees and I
have a momentary panic before his teeth close on one of the dimples above my ass. Fuck. It feels...
impossibly good. Erotic and sensual. He bites and tongues the dimple, moving to the other and
lathing it too. My dick hardens. Of course it does. None of this would make any sense if it didn't.

I realize I want to fuck his mouth and the idea of that, of just the two of us together isn't scary. I
want it. I want it now.

"Stéphan," I say, my voice sounding strange to my ears.

"Yes," he says from behind me. He bites the meat of my ass and my dick flexes, hard.

"I want you to suck my dick," I say. "But I don't know if I can do it back. I don't know if I'm there
yet."

I feel his mouth move into a smile on my ass.

"A month ago, I would have never imagined you being like this at all," he says. "We'll figure it
out."

He turns me to face him, hands on my hips. The water runs down my body, an endless caress. I
don't know how the fuck he can be dominant to me when he's on his knees about to suck my dick,
but he is. He fucking IS.

He takes my dick in his hand, stroking it once, twice, before looking up at me. I swear I can see the
devil himself in his eyes. So mischievous. So disarming. I hold my breath as he leans forward and
licks the tip, still holding my eyes with his.
"Please," I say. "Don't tease me. Just do it. I need it."

"But I like teasing you," he says, licking around the head of my dick. "And you like it too."

My teeth grit and I let my head fall backwards, breaking the eye contact.

"I am all strung out emotionally," I say, taking a deep breath. "I just want to come and go to sleep.
Please."

He seems to take pity on me, pushing my dick into his mouth and sucking it. Fuckkkk, his stupid
mouth is sucking the shit out of my dick. Stupid, stupid mouth. God. How can it feel so fucking
good? It's like he's in my head, reading my mind. Doing it exactly how I want.

He reaches between my legs, rolling my balls in his fingers. I gasp as he doesn't stop there, his
fingers rubbing the patch of skin underneath. My breath quickens as his fingers move up and down
in that spot. God, it feels amazing. He doesn't stop. Doesn't tease me. He's giving me what I asked
for and I'm so fucking into it.

His fingers move further back, circling my anus. I feel my eyes roll back in my head at the
sensation. No one has every touched me there. He pulls my dick out of his mouth and I look down
at him, meeting his eyes.

"Say yes," he says.

I groan, nodding my head.

"Yes," I choke out, the words stuck in my throat as he draws little circles that twist up my insides
deliciously.

I bite my lip to keep from crying out when he pushes his finger inside my ass as he slides his mouth
down my cock.

"Oh god," I moan. "Fucking fucksticks."

My eyes roll back in my head, until I think they'll never stop being that way. I can't breathe and I
don't care. I've never felt anything like what he's doing to me. I don't even have words for it. Nor
how quickly it pushes me over the edge.

My orgasm hits me, rolling over me without warning as I spurt in his mouth. He keeps stroking my
ass with his finger and I KNOW I'm going to die. He's going to kill me.

"Fuckkkkkkk," I groan. "God dammit. Fuck."

It goes on forever, the spasms radiating out through my body in a way I've never felt.

"I love you," I say, my teeth clenched. "God, I love you."

He keeps sucking, the sensations growing stronger. More intense. Too intense. I push him away,
pulling my dick out of his mouth when I can't take it anymore. That. I want to do THAT to him. To
make him feel EXACTLY like that.

I pull him to his feet and grab his dick, already impossibly hard. I can try. I don't know how it will
go, but I can try.

"No," he says, shaking head. "I don't want it unless you're begging me to give it to you."
"But you didn't come," I say, my breaths still coming in little gasps.

"It's okay," he says, leaning against the wall.

He pulls me to him, kissing me with the mouth that just swallowed my come. It's so hot. I can taste
little traces of it and even that isn't as weird as I once thought it would be.

"I want to make you come," I say against his mouth. "I want to."

He shakes head.

"Not yet," he says.

He reaches up and turns the water off, the room becoming silent, the only sound my breathing. I
expect him to make a joke, but he doesn't. He just kisses me and grabs a towel for us to dry off
with.

It's not like I don't know his dick is screaming for release. I could just take it. But I'm not brave
enough for that I don't think. He kisses me and my heart flutters. I don't even know why I want to
do it so badly. But I do. And he said no.

"Come on," he says, dragging me back to our clothes. "Let's go lay back down."

My legs are shaky and unsteady as I hop from foot to foot to get my pants on. The shirt, I leave off
as unnecessary clothing. Especially at the height of summer.

We crawl back in bed and this time his dick is stabbing me in the back, above my ass. I settle
myself and drift off within seconds, whispering "I love you" and hearing him respond the same.
 Stéphan

It's 2:30 and my heart is racing. Fifteen minutes, give or take and all of this comes to a head. Please
don't let anything go wrong. Neither David nor I have been able to eat today. We want her BACK. I
want her back. I want to hit the button that starts this cascade of revenge and then disappear with
my lovers in the fallout.

I've been working on the logistics of disappearing, but no matter how well you plan, there are
always going to be little hiccups. I can handle that as long as the hiccups happen AFTER we get
her back. Fucking government. Screwing up the best thing that ever happened to me.

I'd seriously considered taking down the whole fucking thing. Wipe out their networks and
communication capabilities and the government becomes impotent. Ninety-five percent of their
weapons require computer communications. It would eliminate their bombs and missiles. Without
those, we'd have a shot at overthrowing them.

The only reason I decided not to is because another country would inevitably seize power. There
are so many countries that would seek to capitalize on a vacuum of power in the United States.
There would be war. Millions would die and I don't want that on my conscious.

So we continue working towards our original agenda, exposing the corruption and helping those
without a voice. It hasn't amounted to much. The information is out there, touted as conspiracy and
largely ignored. It's fucking frustrating. I have hope that Gen Z will be a turning point but that
takes time. And I'm tired. I need a break.

I hit the button on my computer that will transfer a million dollars worth of bit-coin to U.S. dollars
and drop it in an untraceable swiss account. I spend the next ten minutes transferring it around and
running it by wire through eleven different countries. It's not an insignificant amount of money. I
have more, but I want to have the ability to get to it if I need to. Or even just want to.

I want to take Y/N and David out and do things, date them if you will. I want to take them places
and experience things with them. No... that's not right. I want to spoil them. I want to whisk them
off to a deserted island and get lost for months, having food and fresh water flown in when we need
it. I want to cut us off from the world and drown myself in their love. I want to fuck them and love
them and forget about the whole world. I can't though. It would be irresponsible of me to abandon
the world. So I've picked the next best thing.

The alarm on my phone dings and my heart stops. It's time. We pull up to the curb and put on our
hazards. I stare at the doors, willing Y/N to walk through them. David grabs my hand and I know
I'm not alone, that his anxiety mirrors mine.

"Come on," I whisper. I watch everyone that comes out, trying to see my baby in their forms and
features. But there's nothing. I squeeze David's hand, my heartbeat increasing with each passing
second. "Come on, baby."

"There," David says, pointing. "No... nevermind. That's not her. Fuck!"

Please let everything have gone all right. Please. Please. Please. I look down at my phone and
check the time. 2:49. It's only been four minutes.

"We'll give it till three," I say.

Every second feels like an eternity as we watch the door. David is sitting in the front seat, his long
arm angled back to where I'm sitting in the back. My brain starts to invent scenarios. Maybe they
somehow were able to get my message to her. Maybe she's been taken. Maybe she never even left
her house. It could be anything. This was a dumb plan. There are too many variables. Not enough
checks or fail safes.

I look at my phone again 2:53. That's too long. That's eight minutes. She only had to walk across
the floor. Something has happened. I just know it. It's taking all my willpower to stay in the car. I
want to go look for her. To tear the station apart until I find her. I begin to formulate a new plan,
trying to come up with something that takes into account this one's failures.

"It's her," David says. "Look."

My eyes squint as I look at the woman. I think he's right. It's hard to tell with the mask. She's
walking quickly. Almost too quickly. Yes. It's her. It has to be. The closer she comes, the more
certain I am. My face breaks into a grin and I shake David's hand.

"You're right," I say, excited now. "It's her. It's definitely her."

She walks up to the door and opens it, sliding into the seat. No sooner than it shuts, I pull her into
my arms, tearing the mask from her face. I begin to kiss her, only vaguely aware of David getting
out of the front to join us in the back.

"You're here," I say, my mouth moving against hers. "You're safe."

She kisses me almost frantically and David pulls us both into a hug.

"I've missed you both so much," she says, turning to kiss David.

The three of us kiss and touch for several minutes. After days of being apart, we need this. It is an
affirmation. Of our relationship. Of our mutual desires. Of our shared purpose. Of our commitment.

"We're here," the driver says. "The St. Regis."

I smile to myself. I do love surprises.

"Come on," I say. "Lots to do."

I open the door, pulling Y/N out with me. David exits on his side and we all don our masks on as
we walk inside the glass doors together.

"What's all this about?" she whispers.

"You'll see," I say, walking up to the reception desk. "Reservation for Atworth."

"Ah yes," the woman says. "We've been expecting you."

I slide my new credit card, with my new name across the counter.

"Thank you, sir," she says, taking it.

The receptionist slides it through the machine and types on her computer. A printer begins feeding
a piece of paper through it. The paper slides out and she passes it to me.

"Sign here please," she says.

I sign the paper with my new name. It feels awkward. I'll have to practice it.
"How many keys will you need?" she asks, handing my credit card back.

"Three," I respond turning away.

"Very good, sir," she says. "All of your specifications have been provided and the bag you dropped
off is in the suite. You can take the private elevator there in the corner. Please enjoy your stay at
the St. Regis."

She passes me three electronic card keys and I hand her a hundred dollar bill.

"Let's go," I say, turning to my lovers.

Y/N looks at me, mouthing the words 'private elevator?' I ignore her, grabbing her hand and
David's too. We walk across the lobby and press the button for the elevator. It opens immediately
and we step on.

"Okay," David says. "What's going on?"

"Not yet," I say. "Just wait."

The elevator opens on the penthouse floor. It is beautifully decorated with two chairs and a table
arranged against the wall. The door in front of me is labeled Presidential Suite.

"Stephan," Y/N gasps. "What did you do?"

I hold one of the keys up to the sensor and the door clicks, a little green light appearing. My heart is
beating fast. I'm nervous, and I don't know why. I step through the door and hold it open. Y/N and
David follow me inside, the door closing behind them.

"Go look around," I say. "I've got to start the countdown."

Our operatives around the country are waiting. I pull my computer out of the bag just inside the
doorway and hook it up to a satellite hotspot, also in the bag. There's a desk against the wall and I
use it as my base of operations. The hotspot is already set up to route my transmissions through a
variety of networks and satellites. It's completely secure. I start a script that will sync all the
computers of our operatives with a countdown clock. This should give everyone enough time.

I hit 'enter' and the clock begins counting down from five minutes. Most of the legwork has already
been completed. The video has already been recorded. When the clock hits zero, I'll begin the
transmission.

"Turn on the TV," I yell over my shoulder.

It seems fitting that we will watch the transmission from the presidential suite of the nicest hotel in
DC. I load the video and watch the clock. David and Y/N come back into the room. Y/N is holding
the flowers I'd had delivered.

"They're beautiful," she says, smelling deep of the red roses. "Thank you."

She sets them on a nearby table and moves to the couch in front of the television. David grabs the
remote off the table and presses the button. The television brightens, a picture appearing.

"You're welcome," I say. "Are you ready. Here we go."

The clock hits zero and I hit the button to begin my transmission, routing the video through a
hundred different countries and linking with each operative's computer. I walk over and sit on the
couch next to Y/N. David sits on the other side. The screen flickers and the image of me in my
Anonymous mask fills the screen. As always, my voice is modulated.

Greetings citizens of the United States,

For too long, the Department of Homeland Security has operated outside the bounds of the law
with impunity. They ignore your constitutional rights. They steal your tax dollars, using them for
their own agendas and personal ends. They illegally detain prisoners, holding them under the most
inhumane conditions. They murder American citizens and call it security.

The officers of DHS think they are above the law. They think their many crimes will go unpunished.
They don't even bother to hide them. As this message airs throughout the United States, evidence is
being transmitted to law enforcement and regulatory agencies all over the U.S. This evidence
should not be hidden from the public. To that end, we are releasing it to the public as well.
Evidence of corruption, embezzlement, coercion, witness tampering and many others can be
located via the link on our twitter account.

This gross abuse of government resources, funded by American tax dollars, against the American
people is unacceptable and will no longer be tolerated. Unfortunately, we do not trust the
American government to deal with the criminals employed by the Department of Homeland
Security. We are taking matters into our own hands.

Effective immediately, all DHS modes of communication are inactive. Their phones will not work.
There is no email. No electronic records. No server data. No computer access. We have taken it
all. It is up to you to use this opportunity to seek justice against this department of the government
for their crimes against the American people.

We are Anonymous. We are legion. Expect us.

The screen goes flickers, returning the regularly scheduled programming.

"Wow," Y/N says, goosebumps raising on her arms. "I always forget how powerful that is until I
see you do it again."

I smile.

"I think you just have a mask fetish," I say.

She leans in to kiss me, her lips moving along my jaw.

"Maybe you should wear it during sex and use the voice modulator," she says. "I think I'd come on
the spot if you stood over me and said 'We are legion. Expect us.'"

I pull her onto my lap, burying my face in the crook of her neck. I want to hold her to me forever.
Mine.

"Noted," I say. "There's more though."

"Hmm," she murmurs absently as my teeth nip at her neck.

"The men that took us," David says. "The ones who hurt you. They're done. We didn't just report
their crimes. We sent pictures to their wives of them cheating, bottomed out their credit scores and
cancelled their credit cards. It will take years for them to recover."

"Jesus," she says. "You don't fuck around."

"If I could beat the shit out of them without getting charged with assault, they wouldn't even be
standing," I say.

"You did that for me?" she asks.

"I told you I'd do anything for you," I say.

"God, I've missed you guys," she says. "And this place is incredible. You didn't have to do all this."

"I wanted to," I say. "I want to fuck you in a real bed. I want people to bring us room service and to
spend days doing nothing but enjoying you, both of you. We deserve this."

"I couldn't agree more," she says. "Where's the bed again?"
 Y/N

I can't stop touching them. It's like I'm afraid they'll disappear and maybe I am. David pulls me
from Stéphan's lap and picks me up. His long arms encircle me as we kiss while he walks us into
the bedroom.

"I'll be there in a second," Stéphan says. "Let me grab a few things."

I let out a little scream of surprise when David tosses me into the middle of the bed. The look in his
eyes is feral and I can't help the shudder of desire that streaks through me. He pulls a knife from
his pocket, one of the fold-up ones, maybe the same knife from that first night, and lays it on the
bed. I swallow. Man... I'd almost forgotten the things he could make me feel with a knife. I lick my
lips, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, biting the corner. I watch him undress with hungry
eyes.

"I've missed you so fucking much," he says, unfastening his belt. He yanks the buckle, pulling the
belt through the loops of his pants with a little hiss. I suck in a ragged breath. God, he isn't even
touching me and I'm already so wet. It's the look in his eyes. Dark and passionate. Like he wants to
hurt me, devour me, consume me.

Stéphan comes into the room, carrying a bag with him. He hits a button on his phone and music
starts to play. What...? Is that...? It is... Fantasy - the slowed down version that always makes me
feel like slow winding my hips begins to play through speakers I can't see. I can't remember the
artist's name, but his voice crawls through me like a drug.

Stéphan sets the bag down next to the knife on the bed and leans into David. I watch as they kiss,
hungry and greedy. God. It does something low in my body, watching them. I don't know how to
explain it other than to say it's fucking hot. They're both so hard and masculine. They kiss each
other differently than they kiss me and it's... fuck, I could watch them forever.

When they break apart, Stéphan grabs his bag of goodies from the bed and walks over to a nearby
chair. He sits and watches David, just as I am. David unbuttons his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.
He unfastens his pants and I lift myself up onto my elbows for a better view. I want to rip his
clothes off him, to have him naked and inside me. He's torturing me with the slow build. I push my
knees together, attempting unsuccessfully to ease some of the ache.

"I've missed you too," I say. I move my hand to my throat and watch him swallow. Two can play at
this slow build game. If I'm going to sit here aching for him, then he can damn well ache too. I
squeeze the flesh. "Missed your hand around my throat. Your dick inside me."

Oh my god, I can't BELIEVE I just said that. Worth it though. His already dark eyes flash with
desire and go black. My eyes are drawn to his pants, his dick hard and outlined by the material. I
remember how it feels inside me. Like I can't take it, stretching when he forces himself in my
narrow aching cunt. I want it. I want it right fucking now.

"Missed the way you pound into me, making me take it all," I continue.

"You're playing with fire, baby," he says. "Don't push me."

He's still too controlled. I want that wild, feral look in his eye. I run my hand down between my
breasts and squeeze my tit, letting my head fall back with a moan. I remember the day he lost
control. When he fucked me with abandon. How he'd thought he'd hurt me. How hot it had been. I
want THAT.

Stéphan stands, bringing a box of condoms over and handing one to David.

"Missed the way you make me come," I whisper.

"You don't have to wait for me," Stéphan says.

I don't know if this was the permission he'd been waiting for, but David quickly unbuttons his
pants, pushing them down his long legs and stepping out of them. I suck in a breath at his dick, so
hard and virile. God, I need him.

Stéphan returns to the bag of god knows what and rummages through it. My eyes follow him, but
quickly return to David as he crawls on the bed, knife in hand.

He yanks my legs apart, and I gasp. Yes. This... I want this David. The David who's barely
civilized. I watch as he opens the knife and my heart skips a beat. I expect him to cut my pant legs,
like last time, but he doesn't. He crawls between my legs, holding the knife in his mouth and a
condom in one hand.

"Please," I beg.

I'm so turned on I can barely stand it. I want him. God, I fucking WANT him. He kneels between
my legs and takes the knife out of his mouth. I can't breathe. Can't speak. I watch him bend down
and place the tip of the blade against my pants just above my clit. Unlike the last time, he doesn't
wait for my permission. Doesn't ask if I'm okay.

The knife moves down, cutting my pants and I find myself taking shallow half breaths. God. If I
move even a millimetre, he'll cut me. He slides the metal through the layers of my pants and
underwear as if it's nothing. Warm butter. When it's cut to his satisfaction, he closes the knife,
tosses it to the side and slips his fingers inside the hole.

"So fucking wet, God," he growls.

He grabs the material with both hands and yanks it apart, ripping my pants and making me scream.
I'm so aroused. So fucking turned on I can't take it.

"David, please," I breathe out. "I need you."

"Not yet," he says. "I want to taste you."

Fuck. That.

This man cut a hole in my fucking pants and has teased me with his stupid, sexy eyes for too long. I
can't wait anymore. I wrap my leg around his, and roll us so he is on the bottom. The look of shock
on his face is adorable. I grab the condom from him and rip it open, rolling it onto his dick with
quick, jerky movements.

"I SAID I NEED YOU," I say through clenched teeth, positioning his cock at my entrance. I bite
my lip and sink down. Gawwwwwd. This. I need this. Fuck. I rock my hips, slowly working him
into me. He grabs my hips, impatient now, and slams me down on his dick, stretching me open and
forcing a scream from my lips.

"So good," I say, lifting my hips so he can slam me down again. "God, I've missed your dick inside
me."
He sits up, grabbing me around my waist as I fuck him. I'm fucking him. I crash our mouths
together, kissing him as I impale myself on his long, fat, dick. It's so much better than I ever
imagined it would be to fuck him. This is what I wanted that day I'd tied him up. I wanted to feel
this. I wanted to be the one in control, to fuck him how I wanted.

I rub my clit against the base of his dick, reveling in the sensation as I shift my hips in little circles.
His dick is so fucking big, I barely have to move. He tears my shirt off, pushing my bra down so
my breasts are on display. I grab his head, pushing it down my chest. He lifts one of my breasts to
his mouth, sucking and biting at the nipple, making my pussy clench impossibly tight.

"God, David," I moan.

"That's it baby," he says. "Ride my dick. Use me."

He bites my nipple, holding it between his teeth. The pain is sharp as it flashes through me,
sending a warm gush of moisture dripping down his dick. I pull away, my nipple pulling painfully
between his teeth as his dick almost slips out of me. I cry out, shoving my hips forward, taking it
over and over again. He leans back, and I reach down, rubbing my clit, my head thrown back as the
pleasure builds.

I feel a hand sliding down my arm, coming to rest over my fingers. Stéphan. Oh god, I love this.
Being between them. He increases the pressure of my fingertips as his teeth close on the fleshy part
of my shoulder. I scream, so close now it's almost unbearable. I'm gonna come.
The fingertips of his other hand slide down my spine and I shiver.

"God, you're sexy," he says, his fingers dipping down the crack of my ass. My breath catches in my
throat when he slides one into my ass.

"Fuckkkk," I breathe out, the word more of a groan. "I'm gonna come."

My eyes roll back as I overload with pleasure. His finger in my ass feels wicked and dirty and I
love it. He slides it in and out and I lose my rhythm. My orgasm is so close, my thighs shaking.

"Don't come," he says, fingering my ass faster. "I want to be inside you when you come."

"You... you what?" I ask, barely able to speak now, the sensations so intense I want to die.

"I want my dick in your ass when you come," he says. "Be a good girl and wait for me."

"Oh god," I cry, his words tightening my muscles. "I can't. I can't take it. It's too much. I'll die."

I think it's even true. Feeling them stretch me open, filling me up that much will definitely kill me.
The mental image flits through my mind as I pull my fingertips away from my clit and clamp down
on his forearm. God, it's already so good. So fucking good.

Imagine with them both... Fuck it. I want it. I want them both inside me.

"Okay," I breathe. "Okay do it. Put it in my ass. Before I lose my nerve."

He chuckles, the sound of it sending shivers down my spine.

"Some things can't be rushed, princess," he says.

"But I'm so close," I cry. "Please."

He adds a second finger and my eyes close, a throaty moan issuing from my lips, head falling back
on his shoulder.

"Oh god," I say, my hips, rocking back and forth on David's dick as Stéphan strokes my clit. I've
never felt like this. Never wanted anything so badly. His fingers slide in and out, slick with
something. My eyes land on a bottle of lube by my knee. Oh. That makes sense.

The pleasure is short-circuiting my brain. I can barely form a thought. It feels deliciously wicked. I
can only imagine his dick... The mental image is so sexy I almost come just thinking about it. My
breaths come faster, short little breaths as he stretches my virgin ass. I don't know how the fuck it
feels this good. I don't see how it can, but it does.

Stéphan pulls away from my clit, reaching for the lube. I hear the bottle snap open and and then
closed. He strokes his dick. I can feel the head of it against my back. Feel as his fingers brush over
the tip.

"Such a good girl," he says. "Lean forward. Grind your clit against him."

I obey and let the pleasure notch higher, kissing David as I give myself over to what this has
become. I feel wicked and sinful and it only pushes my pleasure higher. Stéphan's fingers slip out
of me and I stall my hips as his cock brushes my anus. He's gonna fuck me. He's gonna fuck me in
my ass. I feel like a whore and I love it.

"Do it," I say. "Give it to me."

He pushes in, just the slightest amount and withdraws, gone before I even had a chance to feel him.
Again, a little deeper. My breath hitches. God. Fuck. He's so big. He keeps going, pulling back
every time I start to think it's too much. I find myself rocking backwards, pushing him deeper, the
sensation rolling my eyes back in my head.

"That's it," he says. "You control it."

Me? I control it? I rock forward, letting him slip free before pushing back. I am DOING THIS. I
am FUCKING DOING THIS. Oh my god. I push him just deep enough that it hurts and he grabs
my hip, holding on like he needs it. I wait for him to move me, but his hand just holds my hip,
squeezing it, like he's barely holding onto his control.

THAT'S FUCKING SEXY.

My eyes open, landing on David's face. He's looking at me with what looks like reverence.

"You're so beautiful," he says. "God, I love you, Y/N."

I rock my body back into Stéphan's dick, feeling it press past some unknown barrier. My mouth
opens, with a low groan.

"I...I..." I can't talk. I can't think. Fuck, he's so deep in my ass. Almost all the way. I rock forward,
feeling his long length slip out of my ass. "I love you too, David."

I pause, holding my hips forward, Stéphan's dick barely inside me.

"And you, Stéphan," I say. "I love you too.

I throw my body back, pushing back so hard that he splits me wide and I'm definitely gonna die. It
feels so good. So dirty. So wrong. But so very right.
"Fuck me, Stéphan," I say, my legs shaking again as my clit rubs on David's pelvis, both their
cocks inside me. So deep inside me. "Make me come. I'm so close."

He waits a beat, drawing it out. Just when I think he won't, he does. He shoves his cock inside me
and I swear it feels like I've died. Like I AM dying. He hammers my ass, the motion moving me on
David's dick, pressing my clit so hard I think my eyes will cross from the pleasure.

Fuck. I'm gonna come. It's right there.

Stéphan slaps my ass and I explode, spasming around them both. I scream, literally scream. My
body shakes, mini ripples of convulsions radiating through me. I collapse on David's chest, after
shock orgasms clenching my pussy each time one of them moves. My muscles unclench and I
relax, trying to catch my breath.

"We're not done with you yet," Stéphan says. He thrusts deep, pounding into my ass as David
begins to thrust from beneath.

Oh. My. Fucking. Godddddddd. Feeling them both slam into me, their rhythms matched. I think
maybe I actually DIE. My fingernails dig into David's chest as they give it ALL to me. So fast. So
hard. God damn... It's... there's no word for it. I think my soul leaves my body, spinning in some
astral plane as they fuck me, every thrust spiraling pleasure through me. Dirty, nasty pleasure.

"Such a sweet little slut," David says, his teeth clenched. "God, you take it so fucking good."

Oh god. I can't. I can't take it. Not with him talking that way to me.

My pussy spasms, clenching even deeper this time, pushed over the edge from David's words.
Yeah, I'm definitely dead. Fuck me sideways, it's so fucking good. Impossibly good. Stéphan
presses on my lower back, increasing the pressure on my clit, forcing another wave of climax.

"God damnnnn," David groans. "Your pussy gets so tight when you come."

"Not yet," Stéphan says. "Don't you even think about it."

"Stéphan... god," David says. "I'm too close."

Stéphan grabs my hips, squeezing tight as he fucks me even harder. I love it. I love him. I fucking
love them both so much. I can't take it. Can't fucking take it. But I do. I AM.

"Beg for it," he says. "Beg me to come. You want it. You want me to come so deep in your ass."

"God, yes," I say, breathless. "Please, please, please come. Come in my ass. Fill me up. Give it to
me, FUCKKKKKK."

"Now," Stéphan says. "Come now."

They thrust deep and I feel their cocks swell in a way I never have before. With them both inside
me it is... god... so much more. I feel it when they come. Feel it squirt in my ass, feel their dicks
flex. Fucking hell.

"I love you, Y/N," Stéphan says. "God, I love you so much."

He falls on top of me, sandwiching me between them, as his dick slips out of me.

"I love you too," I say, my chest tight with it. Their arms wrap around me, holding me so close. It
makes me want to cry. "I missed you guys so much."
My emotions are impossibly close to the surface, drowning me. A tear slips out and I hate it. I feel
silly.

"Hey, no," David says, lifting my chin. "Don't cry, princess. We're here. We aren't going to leave
you. We're here."

Oh god, I'm ridiculous. I just had the best sex I've ever had and I'm crying like a baby.

"It started to feel like a dream," I say. "I thought maybe it wasn't real. That none of it had been real.
Like I didn't deserve you guys. So it couldn't be real."

Fuck. This is bad. Stop crying. Stop talking about how you feel. Jesus.

"Aw baby," Stéphan says. "Don't think that. There's no place we'd rather be and no one we'd rather
be with."

He rolls to the side, pulling me with him so we are all laid out on our backs. David takes a moment
to deal with the condom as Stéphan tucks me into the crook of his arm, kissing me softly.

"You're ours," He says. "You'll always be ours. We won't let anything like that ever happen again.
I swear."

He kisses my tears as David crawls back on the bed, cuddling into my back. His dick, soft now,
nestled against my ass, drawing my attention to it.

"My ass is still throbbing," I say, with a watery chuckle. "That's... fuck... Is it supposed to do that?
It has a heart beat."

I feel Stéphan smile against my mouth.

"When you do it right," he says. "It was good for you? You liked it?"

"Gawwwwd, yes," I say. "I um... well... if it keeps throbbing like this, someone's going to have to
do something about it."

"I think that can be arranged," David says, kissing the back of my head. "I just need like... three and
a half minutes."
 David

I wrap my arm across Y/N, who has succumbed to sleep, despite herself. My hand comes to rest on
Stéphan's hip. After the sex we had, I should be tired. I should be slipping into a post-orgasmic
blissful sleep.

I'm not.

I keep thinking about Stéphan fucking her ass. How he had taken his time with her. How he had
made it good for her. I can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop... imagining it. I think... I think I'm
jealous.

Stéphan and I were alone for four days and he never once tried to fuck MY ass. He didn't even
suck my dick until last night. But he just dicked Y/N down so proper that... I think... I wish he had
at least tried to convince me. He didn't even try.

I flash back to last night. When he had rubbed me down in the shower. The way he bit the dimples
above my ass. God, the way he sucked my dick. Refusing to let me return the favor. He'd said I'd
beg for it and I'm beginning to think I might.

I roll out of the bed, moving silently so as not to wake them. I need a drink. There's a kitchen with a
fridge and a mini-bar. I look through the bottles and grab the Jack Daniels, twisting the top of the
bottle. I turn it up, swallowing a generous amount.

"What's wrong?" Stéphan asks from the doorway.

Damn. I hadn't meant to wake him. I turn to find him leaning against the doorjam, naked in all his
glory.

"Nothing," I say, setting the bottle down. I try to walk past him, but he catches my arm.

"Hey," he says. "Talk to me."

"It's nothing," I say. "I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to take a shower."

"No, you're not," he says.

"Look, I let you do that shit to me when we're fucking, but I'm not your bitch," I say. "If I want to
take a fucking shower, I will."

"You're mad," he says, his eyes searching my face.

I realize I am. I am mad. And jealous. Not of him, but of Y/N. I don't like the feeling and that only
adds fuel to the fire.

"I said I don't want to talk about it," I say, shrugging him off my arm.

And I don't. I don't want to talk about it AT ALL. I don't even understand it really. What the fuck
will talking about it accomplish? Nothing. I'll just look stupid. I hate looking stupid.

I walk to the bathroom leaving him in the kitchen and shut the door behind me. It feels like an
escape and maybe it is. I lean against the sink and look at myself in the mirror. Why had I been
such an ass? I'm not your bitch. What the fuck was that about?
I turn at a soft tapping on the door.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" I ask, louder than I mean to, almost yelling as I throw open the
door.

It isn't Stéphan. It's Y/N, her eyes wide. Shit.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I didn't mean to yell at you."

"You're mad at Stéphan?" she asks. "Because of what happened?"

Oh god. No. I don't want her to think that.

"No," I say softly. I look her up and down, naked now except for the shirt I had been wearing. She
must have taken the pants off when she woke up. "No, that was fine. Great even."

"Then what is it?" she asks.

I sigh. I don't want to talk about this with her any more than I do him. Maybe even less.

"It's nothing," I say, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist. "I'm fine. Go back to bed."

"I can't," she says. "I have to pee."

"Oh," I say. "Yeah, okay. I'm sorry. You can have the bathroom."

My eyes rise to Stéphan, watching from the other room, a disapproving look on his face. I scowl in
frustration as I walk out of the bathroom. There's nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. This hotel room
is giant, more like an apartment than a room. And I hate it. I feel trapped.

"Sit," he says indicating a chair next to the one he's sitting in.

I drop into it, not because he told me to, but because I have to sit somewhere.

"I don't think you're my bitch," he says, keeping his voice soft. "You're not anyone's bitch. Not
even during sex."

"I KNOW that," I say, uncomfortable. "Can we please just not talk about this. I'm sorry. Okay?"

"It's not okay," Stéphan says. "Something's going on with you and we are, the three of us, a unit.
Which means something is going on with us."

I let my head fall. He's really not gonna drop this.

"Look, you bit Y/N's head off," he says. "You're snapping at me. Just talk to me David."

I scowl, my lips pinched tightly.

"Fine," I bite out. "I was jealous, okay? You happy?"

My eyes lift to his and I swallow, hard.

"Y/N is ours," he says. "I thought you were okay with the sharing."

God, this is messed up. Fuck it. Just say it.

"I don't have a problem sharing her with you," I say. "I have a problem sharing you with her."
He blinks, taken aback. May as well get it all out in the open. I run a hand through my hair,
embarrassed now.

"You haven't even tried to fuck me," I say. "You sucked my dick yesterday, but you won't let me do
it back. And you're too dominant. I don't know how to tell you what I need without it feeling like
I'm a bitch."

"You want me to fuck you?" he asks quietly.

"I dont KNOW," I say, my voice rising again. I take a breath and drop my voice. "But I want you to
WANT to. You didn't even try. Am I not fuckable? Is there something wrong with me?"

Oh dear god. See... I sound like a whiny bitch. Jesus.

"I have WANTED to fuck you since I met you," Stéphan says. "Even before I finally let myself
think it in my conscious thoughts. I THOUGHT you were straight. I THOUGHT that you were off
limits.

"Yesterday, I sucked your dick because I NEEDED it. I needed to be close to you and I was afraid I
would scare you if I came on too strong. You think I don't WANT to put my dick in you? Your
mouth? Your ass? Jesus, David. Wake up.

"Everything I've done, I've done for you. To make YOU comfortable. I know how hard this has to
be for you. I'm trying to take things slow so you don't freak out."

"Maybe I don't want it slow," I say, the words coming out of my mouth before I can think about
them. "You fucked Y/N's ass, and THAT wasn't slow. Hell, we DP'd her."

He sighs, and I look at him, really look at him. He looks tired. The last week has taken a toll on all
of us, but he had more than just me and Y/N to think about.

"I only get one shot," he says. "One chance to take you and make it be everything you want.
Everything you need. If I fuck it up, I'll lose you. I don't want to lose you, David."

Shit. When he puts it like that... God, I'm an asshole.

"I'm not going anywhere," I say softly.

"You say that," he says. "But guys are funny about their first all the way experience with another
guy. Even if it's perfect and you love it, you may leave me. Hell, I've had men hate me for making
them love it too much. There's so many ways it can go wrong and only one way it comes out
right."

He's right. I know he is. But it doesn't change how I feel.

The bathroom door opens and Y/N looks at us, her eyes full of questions.

"Go take a shower, princess," Stéphan says. "We need a few minutes."

"Why does the important stuff always happen when I pee?" she asks, huffing.

I grin. I can't help it. She bites her lip as I stand and walk over to her.

"Get in the shower," I say, my voice low and growly. "I still haven't put my dick in your ass and I
need that."
I lower my head, kissing her, losing myself in her mouth for just a moment, letting the anger wash
out of me.

"Okay," she says, her voice breathless and eyes dazed when we break apart. I spin her around and
give her a little push towards the bathroom, swatting her ass.

She jumps, a little gasp coming from her throat. I love that. Hearing the sounds she makes. I'd
known I would from the beginning. I just hadn't expected she'd be as kinky as me.

The door closes and I turn back to Stéphan. My shoulders sag. I'm all twisted up in knots with him
and have no idea how to unravel them. I walk back to where I was sitting.

"Look," I say. "I can't promise I won't freak out. Hell, at this rate, it seems pretty likely. But I'm so
jealous of the way you just fucked Y/N, I can't see straight. Soooo... yeah."

He looks up at me and there's fear in his eyes. Naked fear. I hate that I put it there. That he's that
afraid of me losing my shit. Not that I blame him. My track record speaks for itself.

I come out of my chair, kneeling in front of him. I mean to kiss him softly. Something reassuring.
But he grabs me, crashing our mouths together.

He kisses me like a starving man. Like his entire existence depends on this kiss. I feel it now. What
he's feeling. It seeps into my mouth, and everywhere we touch. Anguish, so raw I can't describe it.
The idea that he finally has something he can't bear to lose and the knowledge that he might fuck it
all up.

It all comes through his kiss, like he already knows he will lose me. That this isn't going to work
and it will be his fault. He slays me with that unfiltered kiss. Makes me his more completely than I
think either of us realize.

I can't bear his pain. Can't bear him thinking that way. I'd do anything to take it away. I WILL do
anything. In the face of that pain, my heart shatters and there's no going back.

I am his.
 Stéphan

I. Am. Shook.

David is jealous. In my wildest dreams, I wouldn't have expected this. It's so much of a shock I
don't even know how to react. He's come so far in just a few days, embracing himself and accepting
who he is. Deciding what he wants.

Me. He wants me. I really believed it would take a lot more to get to this point. I don't entirely trust
it. I want to give him what he wants. Everything he wants.

But I'm scared. At this point, I don't know how I would handle it if he left. I'm so... Well... I love
him. And Y/N... I love her. It feels like without the three of us together, there is nothing.

If we do this, and it goes badly, I'll lose them both. I'll lose everything. I can't even bear the idea of
it. These two... they feel like home. They're special to me in a way I can't explain.

But he wants me. Me. I'd like to take credit for a well laid plan coming together, but I wouldn't
have dared plan something like this. Not so soon. Hell, I'd been worried about sucking his dick the
night before, terrified that without Y/N he'd be too self-conscious to let it happen. Too nervous to
enjoy it.

But he had. I'd barely touched him for three days except at night when we curled up together. And
when I'd given in to my desire to bite his delicious ass... he'd asked me to suck his dick. Even
offered to suck mine. I'd told him no. That I wouldn't let him until he begged.

It had been about more than dominance. I needed Y/N to act as a buffer. I can't give in to my
desires without her there to help him pick up the pieces if he goes to a dark place in his brain. If in
a moment of self-reflection he doesn't like what he sees, I will be the last person he wants to see or
talk to. No... we need Y/N.

She's here now, and I am terrified.

I pull away from his mouth, both of us breathing heavy. His eyes are dark with passion and
something else. It looks like trust, but I'm not sure.

"Come on," I say. "Let's join Y/N in the shower."

He smiles.

"Yes, lets," he says.

We step together into the steamy bathroom. The shower takes up the entirety of the back wall,
beautifully tiled and enclosed in glass with gold accents. It speaks of wealth and elegance. David
drops the towel from around his waist and opens the door. I watch him step inside and wrap his
arms around Y/N, kissing her neck. He turns and holds a hand out to me.

This is going to happen. It's really going to happen. Please god, don't let it all go to shit.

I step into the shower, making a conscious effort to let the water wash away my doubt and fear. We
kiss and soap each other, massaging tight muscles and caressing in a sensual dance. It won't happen
here. No... we definitely need a bed for what I want. But it isn't possible for us to be wet and naked
without making out.
I shut the water off when I can't take it anymore. The two of them... fuck... they drive me insane.
I've never felt more out of control than with them. With anyone else, I have it in an iron grip, but
these two disarm me.

David is drying Y/N off with a towel and even that is pushing me. I grab the bottle of hotel lotion,
squirting some in my palm. She moans when he dries between her legs and my dick flexes. I grit
my teeth, determined to hold onto SOME kind of control. I rub my hands together and put what's
left on my face.

I pull David into a kiss, putting the lotion in his palm.

"Rub her down," I say. I turn to her, taking one of the towels and wrapping it around my waist.
"Then you do him. I'm gonna order some room service. We need food."

That will give me time to collect myself. I'm holding on by a thread as it is. I walk out to the
bedroom and dial room service, ordering a variety of things. Filet, medium rare. Shrimp alfredo.
Chicken piccata. Some champagne and strawberries. I grab the box of condoms and the lube,
placing them on the nightstand for easy reach.

David and Y/N come out of the bathroom a short time later. She's wearing one of the robes the
hotel provides. David, a towel. I suck in a breath at the sight of them. God, I want them in every
way possible. Fuck.

"What are you doing?" Y/N asks, crawling onto the bed where I have my laptop spread across my
lap.

"Just checking to make sure all our plans went off without a hitch and weren't able to be traced
back to us," I say.

David crawls onto the bed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He brought the lotion.

"Your turn," he says, squirting some lotion into Y/N's palm then his own. They've evidently been
plotting.

"Yeah, okay," I say, closing the laptop and placing it on the nightstand out of the way. I pull the
towel off and roll onto my stomach.

"That was too easy," Y/N says, her voice sounding like she's pouting. "I thought for sure he'd put
up a fuss."

"I'm not an idiot," I say, smiling. "You think I'm going to turn down a lotion massage from the two
of you? No. Now get to rubbing."

David takes one side, Y/N the other, rubbing the slick lotion into my back and shoulders, my ass.

"This is really nice lotion," she says. "Think they'll be mad if I steal it when we leave?"

I chuckle. She's really too cute sometimes.

"They'll just put it on the room," I say.

"How long are we staying?" she asks, rubbing lotion into the back of my legs. David is paying
particular attention to my ass. Interesting.

"A week," I say.

"Oh my god, a whole week?!" she exclaims. "How can you afford that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I respond.

"Yes, actually," she says. "That's why I asked."

"Sucks to suck," I say, grinning.

"Oh come on," she says. "You can tell me."

"Don't tell me you're actually a gold digger," I tease. "Say it ain't so."

"No," she huffs. "Of course not. I just know you can't afford this room working for Geek Squad."

"That's just a cover," I say. "I made a mint off bitcoin, but I started out as a freelance hacker.
Changing grades and test scores, selling final exams. Silly shit. That's how I got on Anonymous'
radar.

David finishes my other leg and I flip onto my back, reclining with my arms behind my head. His
eyes keep going to my dick as if drawn by an invisible force. I love that. They work their way up
my legs. I can see David is working up his courage to do my dick, but stop him with a hand on his
arm.

"None there," I say. "Trust me... it would cause problems later."

He rubs it into my chest instead. I'm trying to keep things light. Room service will be here any
minute and I don't want to have to stop. David has other ideas, dropping his head to meet my
mouth. He kisses me and I let him, surprised when Y/N runs her tongue along my thigh and bites it
playfully. God damn. The two of them are going to be the death of me.

Fuck it.

I grab Y/N's head and push her towards my dick, groaning as she begins to lick my dick. David
pulls away from my mouth.

"No," he says. "I want to do it."

I look at him and he looks at me. Fuck. It's not like I don't WANT him to suck my dick. I DO. I
mean I REALLY do. God, please don't freak out. I grab Y/N by the hair and gently pull her away.

"Okay," I say. "But she gets to suck you."

"I mean... I could just watch," she says, licking her lips. "Can't I watch? Please?"

I shake my head, chuckling. I think she's more into us fucking than we are and we're pretty into it.

"I don't think he needs an audience the first time, sweets," I say. "Now put your pretty mouth on his
dick."

I don't tell them that it will be easier for him to get out of his own head if she's sucking his dick but
this is my primary reason. He's already in his head. I can see the thoughts flying across his face. He
swallows.

"No," he says. "Let her watch. I'm okay."

She claps. She literally claps with glee, her face splitting into a wide grin. Yep... death of me, the
both of em. Y/N crawls up, nestling into the crook of my arm as David moves between my legs. It's
been less than a week since he balked at licking her pussy cream off my fingers. Now he's about to
suck my dick.

Fuck. Me.

David takes me in his hand, stroking once. A tiny drop of precum shines in the light. He looks up
at me, making eye contact, that hard kind of eye contact. And then he licks it. My eyes close, a low
groan coming from my lips. He does it again and then sucks me into his mouth. Just the head.
Fuckkkkk. David is sucking my dick.

A bell rings, followed by a voice on the intercom. "Room service."

"Fucking hell," I say. "I knew I was forgetting something."

David pulls me out of his mouth and looks at me. He looks... pleased with himself.

"Don't stop. I'll get it," Y/N volunteers. She hops off the bed.

David shrugs and puts my dick back in his fucking mouth. Like it's NO BIG DEAL. I'm dying and
he is... he seems... FINE. It was only last night that he said he didn't think he could do this. And
he's DOING THIS.

"There's uh...," I swallow as he takes more of me, pushing his head down my cock. "There's a
money clip on the desk so you can tip them."

My eyes roll back in my head when he pushes all the way down my long length, taking me into his
throat. Fuck. He's really sucking my dick. When room service rang, I thought for sure I'd made a
grievous error somewhere, but he doesn't seem to care. He sucks and licks, using his tongue on the
head and I am certain I've somehow died or that I'm dreaming.

"Oh god," I moan. "That's it. Just like that."

I'm mesmerized, watching my dick go in and out of his mouth. What he lacks in skill, he makes up
for in sheer will, pushing me into his throat every few strokes.

"Teeth," I choke out when he scrapes them along my dick. "Watch the teeth."

Even that doesn't really bother me. It's nothing compared to the fact that this man that I love, this
man who a week ago... I thought was straight... someone I unconsciously lusted after for years... is
SUCKING MY DICK.

"Slow," I say. "Do it slow."

He takes my direction, breathing through his nose and using his hand. God... when he decides to do
something he really fucking commits. It's so erotic I could come in about three seconds.

Y/N returns, a little moan coming from her throat at the sight of us.

"Shit, that's hot," she says, crawling onto the bed.

David moans his agreement and I'm so fucking lost. I can't think. Can't function. She's right. It's
hot.

"Fuck," I growl.
That's it. That's the rhythm, right there. My hands clench in the sheets, trying to grab onto
something. He keeps sucking and I realize how close I am to coming. Like really fucking close. I
reach down and grab him by his hair, just long enough for me to get a hand hold.

He moans as I lift him off my dick, making eye contact with me.

"If you don't stop, I'm gonna come," I say, my voice deep and breathy.

"Come then," he says, pulling against where I hold him.

"I second the motion," Y/N says.

I turn to look at her and she's playing with her clit while she watches us.

"Fuck," I say, the visual making my dick ache. "Okay then."

Who am I to argue if that's what they want. What they both want. I push him back down my dick,
using my hand to guide him. David gives himself over to the experience, letting me control him
with my hand in his hair.

"So good," I say through clenched teeth. "Goddamn. That's right. You want it don't you. You like
sucking my dick. Like feeling me in your throat."

I'm possessed. Frenzied. I've lost whatever control I once had. I thrust my hips, pushing deeper.

"I'm gonna come," I say. "Fuck, David I'm gonna come."

I let go of his hair, giving him the choice of how he takes it, but he keeps sucking. I'd thought he
wouldn't want me to come in his mouth. Not the first time. But he keeps fucking sucking the shit
out of my dick. So close.

So fucking close.

"Oh gawwwwwwwd," I growl as my orgasm hits, come shooting into David's mouth. He strokes
my dick, squeezing hard. "Fuckkkkkkkk."

It seems to last forever. And nowhere near long enough. He strokes my cock, squeezing the last
little bit of come into his mouth and pulls away. God. David just sucked my dick. That's a real
thing that happened. I look at him and he's smiling at me.

"Saltier than I expected," he says.

He crawls up my body, pausing when we're face to face.

"I just made you come," he says. "I just sucked you off."

"Shut up and kiss me," I say, pulling him to my mouth.

His lips crash down on mine and I am overwhelmed. Pleasure and fear that this won't last all mix
together as we kiss, his mouth tasting like come. MY come. David's mouth tastes like MY come.
God that's hot.

We break apart, both breathing hard.

"We need fire extinguishers in here," Y/N says. "You two are gonna set the building on fire.
Jesus."
"I second the motion," I say, trying to catch my breath.

"Sooo...," David says. "Anyone hungry?"

 Y/N

"I'm fucking starving...," I say staring at them.

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. No I'm not talking about food. Definitely NOT talking
about food. I reach over to David, pulling him to me so I can kiss him, kiss his mouth. Touch him.
His chest, his arms.

I have never in my life been more turned on than watching him suck Stéphan's dick. I don't know
what it was about it, but I kiss him with desperate intensity, angling my head to let him take what
he wants from my mouth. From anywhere.

"Put your dick in me," I say, my lips moving against his mouth, my hands wrapping around his
head to hold him close. "Put your dick in me right now."

"You liked that huh," he says. "Is your pussy dripping and aching for me?"

"God, yes," I breathe. "I need you, David."

Stéphan scoots up the bed into a sitting position, but I barely register it.

"Hand her here," he says. "Let me hold her."

Before I know what's happening, David jerks me across the bed. I let out a little scream, but my
pussy literally drips, running down my slit, so wet and aching. Stéphan reaches for a condom as
David settles me between his legs. He hands David the condom and takes hold of my wrists,
holding me so I can't move.

"Buckle in, princess," he says, his lips touching my ears.

David forces my legs apart and the look in his eyes is beyond feral. He seems possessed of the
same desperation as me. He slips the condom on and plunges into me in one thrust, shoving deep
and making me scream. My head falls back onto Stéphan's shoulder as I lift my hips, meeting him
stroke for stroke as he pounds into me. I'm so wet, my pussy aching and needy.

"Fucking take it," he grounds out between clenched teeth. "You fucking take it."

I love it when he does that. I fucking love it. When he talks to me like that I cream. Every. Fucking.
Time.

"GOD, YES," I yell. My voice becomes a low whine. "Give it to me, please. Hurt me. I need it.
FUCK me, David."

I feel insane, possessed. I can't get enough. I want it harder. Faster. David grips my throat, shoving
himself into me until I think I will split in half and it's still not enough. His fingers squeeze cutting
off my air or the blood flow to my brain.

"Your pussy is so tight, so wet," he says. "Such a perfect little hole for my dick."

I can't breathe. Can't speak. But I need more. I pull against Stéphan's grip where he holds my
wrists, but I can't move anything except my hips. David releases my throat but doesn't move his
hand. I draw a ragged breath.

"More," I gasp.
And then he's squeezing again, his tempo increasing, pounding me so hard I think my insides will
surely be bruised.

"You want more?" he asks. "Fuck yeah, little slut. You love my dick. Love me fucking you. Take
it, bitch. You fucking take this dick."

The edges of my vision go dark but his WORDS. God. It's so fucking hot. I've never been called a
bitch while someone fucked me before. God damn, I'm gonna DIE, it's so hot. I squirt, my pussy
showing him what I can't say with words. It washes out of me in a flood, covering his dick and
squishing between my ass.

"Oh, yeah," he growls. "I fucking love your pussy. God."

"Did she just...?" Stéphan asks.

"Fucking right she did," David says. "Came all over my cock like a proper little slut. Didn't you
baby."

He releases my throat and I gasp, drawing air into my lungs before I can answer.

"Do it again," I say. "Please."

I don't know if he's feeding off my vibe or I'm feeding off his but I keep getting more and more
frantic. My whole body is tingling, a massive orgasm building. He jerks my hips, my head falling
into Stéphan's lap and changing the angle of EVERYTHING. I gasp, the sound fading into a low
moan as his pelvic bone grinds against my clit with every thrust.

"Fuck that's good," I say. "So good. Don't stop."

Stéphan lifts my arms over my head and holds them in one hand, reaching down with his other to
pinch my nipple. I scream, my pussy clenching as the orgasm rushes over me in waves.

David takes my throat again, squeezing so hard my vision instantly dims. It only intensifies my
orgasm as I buck and convulse, trying to press my clit harder against him.

"God I love how fucking tight you get when you come," he says. "You're milking my dick baby.
I'm gonna come so deep in your fucking pussy."

He lets go of my throat, holding himself up with both hands and hammering into me. So hard. God.
So fucking hard. Every single thrust hitting my clit and drawing out my orgasm. So good. So god
damn fucking good I want to die.

"Kill me with your dick," I say, my orgasm still pulsing through me. "I don't care."

"I mean... don't kill her," Stéphan says "I care."

"Oh god," David says, his hips losing rhythm. "Fuck, baby."

He thrusts deep, a growly groan coming from his throat. He's coming, I feel his dick swell inside
me. He thrusts again and again before collapsing on top of me. I love the way he fucks me. The
way he talks to me when he fucks me. Every time we fuck it's like I see deeper into him.

David kisses my face as Stéphan releases my wrists. I wrap them around David's shoulders and
hold tight, kissing him with soft, sweet kisses. He's impossibly gentle now, reverent even, cupping
my face and whispering sweet nothings.
"It was so good," I say, breathless. "God. I just want to fuck you both forever. I'm never gonna get
enough."

"Are we just not going to talk about you squirting?" Stéphan says. "I feel left out. I want you to
squirt on my dick."

He's so cute, pouting.

"It's not like I can turn it on and off," I say. "It just happens sometimes. Usually when he chokes
me."

"Noted," he says. "I will have to remember that."

My stomach growls, embarrassingly and I realize I haven't eaten anything but half a piece of toast
this morning.

"Seems someone worked up an appetite," David says. "Are you hungry, baby? Let's eat something.
I'm starving. Stay here. I'll be right back."

David rolls off the bed, disposing of the condom and bringing me a towel for the wet spot in the
bed. He walks, naked into the other room and returns wheeling the cart that room service had
brought. It has several silver domed plates and a bottle of champagne. I sit up, pulling my legs
criss-crossed on the bed and dragging a sheet over my lap.

My mouth starts to water as David lifts the lid from each plate. Now that I can see the food and am
I'm not being distracted by my men engaging in... mmmm... stuff... I'm starving. He hands me a
plate and a set of silverware. I pass it to Stéphan and take a second.

We eat in comfortable silence, sampling off each other's plates like it's the most natural thing in the
world. Stéphan holds out a bite for me and I lean forward to take it. He pulls it away at the last
moment, replacing it with his mouth. My heart flutters as he kisses me tenderly. I've never felt such
peace. He's so sweet. They both are.

David had been... I guess harsh is the best word. Like tamed violence. Barely controlled. His words
and the way he talked had pushed me to even higher pleasures. But I love this side of them too. It's
like facets on a diamond, each one reflecting different colors of the light. All beautiful.

"You still haven't fucked my ass," I say, swallowing a bite of chicken piccata. "You could have, if
you'd wanted to."

David smiles like the cheshire cat. It's predatory and even though I just came so hard, so many
times, it tightens things in my belly. I pull the bottle of champagne out of the ice bath and lift it to
my lips, turning it up and swigging straight from the bottle. I pass the bottle to Stéphan.

"I'd have hurt you if I'd fucked your ass, baby," David says. "I felt like an animal. I couldn't think.
Couldn't control myself. I don't know if... if it was some mental dam breaking or what, but I
thought about it for about a second and then pushed the thought far, far away, lest I break
something that can't be fixed."

"Scientifically speaking," Stéphan says. "You were probably high. Dopamine and seratonin
flooding your brain. Overcoming years of repressed sexuality can have that effect I'd think."

"Maybe," David says, noncommittally. "Or maybe your dick is a drug and we're just addicts."

"That sounds accurate," I say. "Addicted. Definitely. I'm absolutely addicted to you both. Strung
out on your sex. I've... well... before I met David, I'd never even come with a guybefore. They...
well... they didn't fuck me like you two. I can't even BEGIN to tell you how much I masturbated
after I got out of that government place."

"Maybe you should," Stéphan says. "I think that knowledge might be useful. Scientifically
speaking."

I roll my eyes.

"You're a mess," I say. "It was weird though. When I was back at home, in my room, it didn't feel
like I belonged anymore. My clothes felt weird. Nothing felt like it was mine. The only time I felt
right was when I masturbated. Dreaming of you two and all the things we'd done made me feel
safe and hole."

"It was like that for us too," David said. "We missed you. Stéphan made me be the little spoon.
More than once."

"Oh please," Stéphan says. "You liked being the little spoon. Don't act like you didn't."

I grin at their playful banter. So easy and... dare I say... normal?

"You bonded, the two of you," I say. "It's frankly adorable."

"Something like that," David says.

Stéphan passes him the bottle of champagne and he drinks a long swig. He passes the bottle back to
me and lays across the bed, resting his head on Stéphan's hip.

"Where's your phone?" I ask Stéphan. I hadn't brought mine, just in case the government was
tracking it.

"On the dresser," he says, nodding across the room. "Why?"

"I want a picture," I say. "Of the three of us."

I stand and walk over, grabbing the device and handing it to Stéphan to unlock. He pauses the
faintly seductive music that has been playing in the background and pulls up the camera. I crawl
onto the bed, covering him with a sheet and lay my head on his other hip.

"Ready?" he asks, indulgently.

"Yeah," I say, smiling up at the camera, held above his head for a downward shot.

He takes the picture and I reach for the phone to look at it.

"No, we can't see your face this way," I say, sitting up. "Scoot up David. We'll try a front view."

Stéphan snaps the second pic and hands me the phone.

"Oh my god, it's perfect," I say, looking at it adoringly.

My shoulders fall.

"I don't have a phone though," I say. "I can't post it anywhere or even take it with me."

"Hold that thought," Stéphan says, pushing his way out from beneath us. "I'll be right back."
He walks to the other room, returning with a small bag. He rummages through it and pulls out a
ziplock bag, handing it to David.

"That's your new identity," he says. He turns to me, holding out the entire bag, apparently
containing more than an identity. "And this is for you."

I look into the bag and pull out a box for the new samsung galaxy phone. There's a number written
on the outside of the box.

"It's secure," he says. "I set up the network myself. It piggybacks on nearby cell towers, but it's a
closed network. No social media though. Very important."

"No, of course not," I say, nodding my head. He picks up the phone and types for a second.

"There," he says. "Now you have the picture."

I reach into the bag and pull out my identity documents. There's so much in the bag. Passport.
Driver's license. A credit card.

"Why do I have a credit card?" I ask, curiously.

"You need one," Stéphan says. "For emergencies. Or just because. It has a fifteen thousand dollar
limit and the bill is paid automatically."

"I-I can't accept this," I say. "It's... it's too much."

"Just take it, please?" he says. "I'd rather you have it and not need it than need it and not have it. If
something happens, I don't want you to feel helpless."

I bite my lip apprehensively.

"You don't have to use it, okay," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Just please keep it. I set
one up for David too. You don't have to feel weird about it. It's a precautionary measure."

"Fifteen grand?" David asks, lightheartedly. "I'm going shopping."

The mood is instantly lighter. I pull out the documents, smiling despite myself.

"You named me Calliope?" I ask.

I don't feel much like a Calliope.

"She's a goddess," he says. "Daughter of Zeus and one of the muses. I don't know. If you don't like
it, we can change it."

"Are you kidding?" I ask. "This must have cost thousands of dollars. I'll get used to it."

Stéphan's face grows red and he looks away, guiltily.

"How much did did it cost, Stéphan," I ask, wary.

"A hundred and fifty," he says, looking anywhere but at me.

"A HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS?" I exclaim.

"Each," he says.
"Stéphan you spent almost half a million dollars?" I ask.

The room gets hot and suddenly I don't feel so good. Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars. He
spent four hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I don't think I've ever had more than four hundred
and fifty dollars in my checking account at one time. I swallow, trying to find my breath, but my
lungs don't want to work.

"It's only money," he says. "I can make more. And these documents are 100% legal. A police
officer could run it through the system and it's all properly tied together. Please don't freak out."

David pulls me into his arms, snapping a finger in front of my face. It doesn't register. I'm stuck in
my head. I'm sleeping with a man that can spend almost half a million dollars and act like it's
nothing. Like he'd popped down to the corner store for a pack of cigarettes or something.

I had felt perfectly comfortable twenty minutes ago. Now I feel small. Insignificant. This is one of
the top hackers for Anonymous. He's leading the DC operatives in an attack against the
Department of Homeland Security and has been basically at war with the government for weeks
now. And he's rich. He's so far out of my league I can't even speak.

Wait... why isn't David freaking out.

"This doesn't bother you?" I ask, looking up into his face. "Why doesn't this bother you? Are you
BOTH loaded?"

David has the decency to blush beneath my gaze.

"You ARE," I say, breathing fast. Too fast. Hyperventilating type fast. "You're both loaded."

"Mercenary hacking pays well," he says, shrugging. "It's really not a big deal."

"To YOU," I say. "God... I AM a gold digger. Or... something even less kind. You guys are doing
all these things for me and ... I'm just me. I... I'm a nobody with maybe seventeen dollars in my real
life checking account."

"I guess it's a good thing I didn't buy the yacht," Stéphan says, laughing like it was a joke. "I'm
sorry Y/N. I didn't expect you to react this way. I just wanted you to be safe and us to be able to do
things without the cops breathing down our necks."

"Did you say... yacht?" I swallow, my pulse skyrocketing. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I really
can't breathe.

The edges of my vision go dark and my body gets heavy. Really heavy.

I... Calliope Stevens... or so it says on my new documents... faint.

 David

Fuck.

I check her pulse and it's fine. Y/N fainted. I can't believe she fainted although hyperventilated is
probably a better term. She's been through so much. Poised under pressure in an active war zone,
shot, abducted by the government, held in inhumane conditions and it was the money that pushed
her over the edge. I don't understand that.

Stéphan leans over her, concerned.

"Just give her a minute," I say. "She's okay."

"I know that," he says. "In some part of my brain, I know that. But I feel responsible."

"Duh," I say. "You just had to bring up the yacht."

"I was trying to be funny," he says. "Lighten the mood."

"Congratulations, dumbass," I say. "It's light now."

"Shut up," he says, chucking me on the shoulder. "I didn't think it would be this big a deal."

"Straw that broke the camels back," I say. "I was rather hoping it would be one of us. Stupid
straw."

"That was literally the worst joke I've ever heard," Stéphan says.

Y/N stirs, coming around. I pat her face a few times and her eyes flutter open. She looks from me
to Stéphan and then back again.

"You fainted," I say. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes close and she groans, rolling over to put her face in her hands.

"Oh my god," she whines. "I'm so embarrassed."

I pull her into my lap, letting her bury her head in my neck.

"Don't be," I say. "Shock is a funny thing. You had a bit of a shock."

"A bit?" she says, pulling back to look at me. "A BIT? I'm basically some poor, helpless charity
case. You're both so... so... IMPORTANT. You're former military and a wealthy, mercenary
hacker. He's leading Anonymous' response to government oppression, also wealthy. What am I? A
poor, college student with seventeen dollars to my name and a part-time job at Barnes & Noble.
You guys are Batman. I'm... I'm Robin... a sidekick."

"Baby, no," Stéphan says, pulling her chin to look at him. "If anything, you're better than us."

She laughs, a choked sound to it, like it hurt.

"You're ridiculous," she says.

"No, hear me out," he says. "David and I, we DO have money. You may as well know now, it's not
an insignificant amount of money. But we have always known we can fall back on that money. If
we get hurt or injured, or just tired of fighting, we can disappear and go live the life o'reilly. There's
no REAL bravery when you know you have a safety net. We went to the protests decked out in
army grade gear. Bullied the cops, with very little risk to ourselves. Not like you. You risked
everything over and over. You did it all without a safety net of any kind. You're not a sidekick.
God, I can't even explain how much I admire you. You are a badass. A boss bitch. You have to
know this. How can you not see what I see when I look at you?"

"He's right," I say. "The risks we take are calculated. They have a low probability of injury and we
have multiple exit strategies and back-up plans. You're fearless and brave. You could have gone
home after being shot and packed it up. Instead, you left your family and friends behind and
embraced OUR life. One that requires fake identities. Expensive fake identities. We're in a five star
hotel right now, but our life isn't usually like this. We have money, but most of it we spend fighting
the government, not just here but all over the world."

"That just makes it worse," she says. "You could be off gallivanting around the world with all your
money and instead you spend it fighting for people less fortunate and the oppressed. You're
literally the best people I've ever met. Don't you see? At some point, you're going to realize what I
already know... I don't deserve you. I don't even know why you like me. You could have anyone.
Hell, you could have each other. You're going to realize I'm not worth it. And then I'll have
nothing."

Her eyes brim with tears. It breaks my heart, but I let her finish.

"I'll go back to my life with my seventeen dollars and never get over losing you," she says, a
solitary tear leaking from the corner of one eye. She wipes it away abruptly. "What would regular
life be like after being with you two? I'll tell you. It would be unbearable. Fucking horrible. You
think I can go back to doing stupid shit with my friends? Tiktok trends? Snapchat? I CAN'T. I can't
go back to my old life and I wouldn't want to. But at some point, that's all I'm going to have. You
two are like gods. When you two wake up to the fact that you've... I don't know... imprinted on a
lesser, unworthy mortal, my old life will taste like ash in my mouth."

This is the problem. This is why she hyperventilated. She's scared and her insecurities in the face of
our wealth, combined with everything else... It was too much. We have to convince her she's
wrong. Convince her what she means to us. But I don't know how.

"Are you saying we're stupid?" Stéphan asks. "Blind? Do you think we don't know when
someone's lying to us?"

"No...," she says, chewing on her lip.

"Then how are you going to tell us that we don't feel how we feel?" he says. "How are you going to
act like we don't know exactly who we're fucking? Who we love? I LOVE you. I LOVE David.
But David and I worked together for years now. Do you know I didn't let him see my face until like
eight months into our working relationship? I trust him now, but I didn't then. I could have kept my
mask on when he dropped my name. I didn't. I trust his judgment and I trust you. I don't do that
blindly. This isn't something meaningless for me. It's not some fling. You have my heart, Y/N.
Hell, I think you have a piece of my soul."

"Same," I say. I can't be more eloquent than that. "I feel exactly the same."

He pulls her into a tender kiss and I wrap my arms around them both, laying my head against Y/N's
shoulder. At least she's feeling better. This has to be better than unconscious.
"I'm sorry I freaked out," she says, pulling back. "I feel ridiculous. I'm just overwhelmed. And you
guys are so amazing."

"So are you," I say.

"Not really," she says. "But sure, okay. We'll just pretend. Soooo... what are your names. I'm
Calliope. Who are you?"

"I figured we'd call you Calli when we're out," Stephen says. "So you're Calli Stevens. I'm Damien
Atworth. And David is Lucas Sterling."

"Damien and Lucas," she says chewing on her lip again. "Yeah okay... even your fake names are
sexyyyyyy."

"Calli is sexy," Stéphan says. "It's not like I named you Gertrude. Calli's cute. Like you. And
Stevens is kind of like Stéphan. I couldn't resist marking you in some way as mine."

"Hey," I say. "What about me? She's mine too."

"Of course," Stéphan says, pretending to buff his nails on his chest. "But it was my money."

I glare at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I'm not really mad, just trying to be funny.

"I guess that's fair," I say. "I don't like it though. Fuck around and she'll end up with my last name."

"Uhhh, guys," she says. "I'm right here."

The corner of her mouth is turned up though. Sooooo... she thought that was cute. Good.

"Fuck around and you'll end up with mine," Stéphan says.

I purse my lips and cock my head to the side, taken aback. I'm speechless. He really just said that.

"Wait...," she says, pointing to Stéphan and grinning. "Does that mean that you get mine then? I
refuse to let you spend another half a million dollars so we can all exchange names. That'd just be
ridiculous."

I stand and begin moving the dishes we had eaten out of off the bed.

"You weren't really gonna buy a yacht, right?" Y/N asks, looking at Stéphan.

"Not really," he says. "I mean I considered it, but it just wasn't realistic. We have too much still to
do when it comes to the protests and the American police. They STILL haven't arrested the killers
of Breonna Taylor. Those fuckers are just chillin like it's no big deal. Maybe after we get some
national police reforms."

He winks at her and it's still unclear if he's kidding, even to me. I turn and walk towards the dresser
with two of the plates. Stéphan removes the last plate, following along behind me.

"I'm not done with you yet, you know," Stéphan says.

My heart races at his words.

"Oh?" I respond, attempting a casualness that isn't real.

Sucking his dick had been exhilarating. It had made me feel... god... ten feet tall. I'd made him
come with my mouth, and my dick had been so hard. Aching as I heard the sounds he made and felt
his desire. Hearing him talk to me.

I want more. I'd made the joke, but he IS like a drug. Being with him, doing things with him... it
does something to me. Unleashes something in me. I don't know where it will stop. I don't have
control over it. I'm afraid I'll become Mr. Hyde. That my baser instincts are more violent than I've
ever realized.

I wanted to break Y/N. I wanted to fuck her until I hurt her. And she loved it. She never stopped
me or acted like it wasn't everything she wanted. Hell, she told me to kill her with my dick. I'd have
stopped before it got that bad, wouldn't I?

The fact that I don't know worries me. But not enough that I haven't imagined being with Stéphan
in other ways. Rubbing lotion into his ass had been an exercise in torture.

"You don't think I'm going to sleep before I claim your virgin ass..."

I swallow. Is it hot in here? It definitely feels warm.

"Oh... ummm... yeah, ok," I say, flustered. God, I sound like an idiot.

The mental image flits through my mind, my dick hardening. Yeah... ummm... fuck.

That's what I'd wanted. I had a whole freak out because I thought he didn't want to. Because I was
jealous of Y/N. But hearing him say it... Now I'm nervous.

"Y/N needs some attention," Stéphan says. "Go play. I'll join you in a minute."

Go play... That's what he said. Fuck, I don't know if I'll even be able to concentrate. But he's right.
Y/N does need some attention. Her poor pussy has been beat half to death and it hasn't even been a
whole day yet.

I walk back to the bed, thinking about what I want to do. What kind of evil I can devise for Y/N.
She does like to watch.

Maybe... yeah... that's what I'll do. Definitely.

 David

So you all know I like to bounce around on my POV, but this one HAS to be David. Don't hate me
for switching up on you with a repeat POV.

I walk back to the bed and pick up Y/N, redepositing her in the middle. She giggles as I put pillows
behind her back to prop her up.

"I feel like a queen sitting like this," she says.

"I guess that makes me your loyal subject," I say, smiling.

I lift her chin and bend down to kiss her. It's a soft kiss, sweet, and tender until she bites my lip. It's
like a switch flips in my brain. My whole plan goes out the window. I deepen the kiss, pulling her
hair to get the angle I want, pushing my tongue between her lips. I stroke the roof of her mouth and
she shudders, moaning into my mouth. I love that.

Her hand slides into my hair, pulling hard enough to draw a gasp from me. My dick, already hard,
flexes. God, I love her. I fucking love her so much. Love how she speaks to the animal in me. I bite
my way up her jaw, pushing her hair out of the way. My thumb caresses the outside edge of her
ear, the tiniest touch as my teeth close on the lobe. I bite it, hard, reveling in the sensation as she
arches her back, pressing her breasts into my chest.

"I'm gonna hurt you," I whisper, my lips moving against her ear.

"Oh god, please," she moans.

I slap her cheek, hard enough to shock her without really hurting her. Her eyes widen, breath
catching in her throat. She licks her lips and takes a ragged breath, desire making her eyes go dark.

"Oh my god," she says through clenched teeth. "Fuck... do it again."

I slap her again and her head falls back, mouth open in silent invitation. Our lips crush together,
hard and aggressive. I want to devour her, feed on her mouth, taste her desire. She strokes my
tongue with hers and bites me again.

God. She she liked it. She REALLY liked it. Every time I think we've been too hard with her, she
surprises me. It had been a spur of the moment whim, to slap her. I've never slapped a woman
before, not on her face. I admit, I hadn't been entirely sure what would happen. Her response...
fuck. Everything she does pushes me to some deeper depravity, unlocking doors in my brain I
never knew existed.

I hear the slap against my ass before I feel it, or before it registers that I feel it. Fuck. I am not
submissive. I am not submissive. I am NOT submissive. He could do it again though. I would take
it. Part of me even wants it.

"Play nice with your toys," Stéphan says.

A shudder of pleasure washes over her when Stéphan calls her a toy. That's interesting. Further
testing required.

"We're playing nice aren't we, toy?" I ask.

There it is again. That look of utter bliss, like the word itself caressed her. If I reached between her
legs, she'd be soaked.

"So nice," she breathes.

I suck her nipple into my mouth, biting and sucking so hard. She cries out, arching her back again. I
keep biting, harder. Harder.

She screams and I release it, licking it soothingly.

"Oh god," she cries. "Fuck, David."

I move to the other, repeating the action, feeling her nails dig into my shoulders. I don't stop until
she screams.

"Such a fun, little toy," I say, licking her swollen nipple.

She opens her mouth but doesn't speak. I wonder if she can. Wonder what she's thinking.

I can't wonder long. Stéphan runs a hand down my spine and along the crack of my ass. I had
watched him do that to Y/N. Done it to her myself. I wasn't prepared for the shiver that claimed
me. Hadn't known the rush it would send through me.

I lay my head on Y/N's stomach and just breathe for a moment. This is happening and I WANT it.
God, I want it. I bite my way down her stomach, leaving behind little bruises and teeth marks and
showing Stéphan without words that I'm ready. That I want him.

The feeling I'd had when he fingered my ass and sucked my dick flits through my mind.
Anticipation of having it again.

I jerk Y/N's legs apart, pushing her thighs back to expose her wet, messy cunt. She gasps, digging
her hands into the sheets and my dick swells. I'm supposed to be taking it easy on her but I'm not.

I want to hurt her. I'd told her that and she didn't shrink away. She begged me to.

"Such a good little toy with a bad, greedy pussy," I say. "You're sore and aching but you want
more, don't you. You need it."

I run a teasing finger down her wet slit, the barest touch and she opens her legs wider.

"Yes," she says. "God yes."

Stéphan mirrors the action, skimming his fingers down my anus and cupping my balls. He rolls
them in expert fingers and I groan at the sensation.

I slip a finger inside her, hooking it to hit her gspot and rubbing her clit with my thumb. She's so
tight. Her pussy wet and swollen. It makes my dick ache.

She moans. It only makes me want to hurt her more. I push a second finger inside her as Stéphan
pushes one inside me. My eyes roll back, sensation washing over me as my whole body responds.

"Oh god," I moan.

"He can't help you," Y/N says, parroting what I told her oh so long ago.

She's watching us with greedy eyes, wanting this as much as either of us. I'm ashamed for being
jealous. It wasn't rational. Didn't make sense. I tell myself it will be better after. That having him
inside me will erase it.

"You either," I choke out as Stéphen adds a second finger from his other hand.

God, it's intense. Feeling him stretch my asshole, knowing he's preparing it for his cock. I want it. I
want him inside me and I don't want to wait. Don't want it gentle.

"Just fuck me," I say, pushing my fingers in and out of Y/N's slippery cunt. "I need it."

"Not yet," Stéphan says.

I turn my head to look over my shoulder. At his dick, hard and veiny. At his eyes, dark with desire.

"I'll fuck you when I want," he says. "You don't get to rush it. But it's cute you think you can."

I turn back to Y/N, consumed with a hunger I can't explain. The calmer he is, the more frenzied I
become. Like a school of piranhas or sharks in a feeding frenzy.

I drop my head and suck her clit into my mouth as I shove my fingers in so deep. My teeth close
around the sensitive nub, spurred on by the sounds she makes and her thighs shaking.

She could come right now. Right fucking now. I increase the pressure, biting harder, feeling her
pussy clench around my fingers. God, I want to be inside her again.

I don't care that she's sore. That her poor pussy is aching. She said to hurt her and I want to. I want
to destroy her, to know that she will feel me inside her for days, every time she moves.

God, her ass. I want it. I want to fuck her ass so badly I can't see straight. I want to take it the way
Stéphan isn't taking mine. He's patient and controlled. I want it violent. Want to shove my dick
deep inside her and hear her scream for me.

I mustn't. I'll tear her. My dick's too big. But I want to. God, I've never wanted anything more.

I flip her onto her stomach, pressing her head down and lifting her ass so she's on her knees. My
tongue plunges into her ass, illiciting a deep, throaty moan. I fuck her ass with my tongue,
spreading her cheeks and gripping them so tight I know there will be bruises. I don't care. I need
this. Need to claim this part of her with my tongue if nothing else.

"Fuck, David," she cries, beating the bed with her fists. "God, it feels so fucking good. Please."

"Play with your pussy," I say. "Make it gushy for me."

"It already is," she says.

I smack her ass, drawing a shudder from her as her need peaks.

"What'd I say, bitch?" I grind out between clenched teeth. "Play with your fucking pussy."

God, I'm insane. Possessed. I smack her ass again and again, biting her other ass cheek and leaving
imprints of my teeth. She screams and I love it.

I plunge my tongue back into her ass, licking and biting, pushing a finger inside and driving her
crazy. I want her crazy. I want her to feel like I feel. Need like I need. Because I'm dying. If
Stéphan doesn't put his dick in me I'm going to really hurt her. I need it. I need him.
"Please," I beg, the word muffled against her ass. "Please fuck me. Stop teasing me and fuck me.
God Stéphan, I WANT it. I NEED it."

I hear his chuckle. Feel it wash over me like a touch.

He smacks my ass again and my eyes close at the sharp pain.

"NOT. YET." he says.

His fingers plunge into me, hard now. Fast. It's so good. So fucking good. I reach down and stroke
my dick, my fingers coming away wet, precum dripping from the head of my cock in a long string,
the like of which I've never experienced.

"I'm dying," I bite out. "Do you want me to kill her? Cause I'm losing control."

"Do it," she says. "Hurt me. Fuck me. Kill me. I don't care."

I growl, lifting my body up enough to yank her closer. Close enough for my cock spread her pretty
ass cheeks.

I bury my dick in her ass, and Stéphan does the same. He'd been waiting for this. For me to lose
control. Pushing me and teasing me. Manipulating me. God.

Y/N screams and I don't blame her. It had to hurt. I didn't do enough prep. Not like Stéphan with
me.

"Fuck, yes," she groans. "Fuck me in my tight, little ass, David. Use me. Play with me. Fuck me."

Or maybe I had. Fuck...

Stèphan slides his cock slowly out of me and the sensation makes my knees weak. I've never felt
anything like it. His fingers ARE NOT THE SAME. He plunges deep as I draw out of Y/N, a
rhythm developing. A push and pull that's driving us all crazy.

"Your ass is so fucking tight," Stéphan says, his teeth clenched. "So good."

Y/N shudders, his words affecting her as surely as my dick in her ass. I can't speak. I can only feel.
And it feels impossibly good. It can't be real. It can't. It's too good. I'm never gonna last. God, I'm
gonna blow my wad like a teenage virgin.

"Please let me watch," she says. "I wanna see, please."

I... I can't. I'm out of control. I don't want her to see my face. I don't want to be that naked. That
vulnerable.

"Not till you come," Stéphan says, taking the decision out of my hands. Thank god. Thank fucking
god.

I shove my dick into her violently, winding my hands in her hair and turning her face to the side,
pressing it against the bed, my other hand clenching the sheets as I pound into her.

"I love it," I say. "Your dick. God, it's so good."

I am animal. A beast. Uncontrolled and I don't care. Y/N doesn't either, shoving herself against me
with every thrust. Neither of us are gonna walk right. Not for days.
The sound of flesh slapping flesh is loud in the room. So loud. It's erotic, just hearing it. The sound
of moans and pleasure. Groans and smacks.

"If you don't make her come soon, I'm gonna die," Stéphan says, his voice showing his own lack of
control.

I know what he means. I'm dying. My dick aching, balls begging for release. I pull her up by her
hair, putting her ear against my mouth.

"Did I or did I not tell you to make it gushy, bitch?"

She spasms, my words or the tone of them sending her over the edge. Fuckkkk... her ass tightens
around my cock as she comes, squeezing so tight. I can't take it. I'm gonna come.

My rhythm falters. My eyes close when a hand yanks my head back.

"Don't you do it," he says. "Don't you dare come."

Y/N is breathing hard and I love it. She's almost gasping.

"You... promised...," she says, breathlessly. "Please."

I growl, shoving her away from me. I hadn't promised. I hadn't said anything. But Stéphan had. I
flip her over, pulling her back against me in one smooth motion, shoving my dick back in her ass.
Thrusting over and over.

"I love you," she says. "God I love you both so much."

I look away. I can't. I can't look in her eyes. Stéphan takes that decision from me too. He holds me
by my hair, forcing me to meet her gaze.

"Come," he says.

And I do. God, I fucking come soooo hardddddd. He follows me a second later, both of us coming,
our dicks squirting in unison.

Y/N watches, meeting my eyes. Seeing everything. In this moment, I don't care. It isn't what I
thought it would be. It feels... communal. Like we shared something magical.

Maybe we did.

My dick spurts and spurts. The orgasm seems never ending. Every thrust from behind me, drawing
it out.

"Oh god, I love you, Stéphan," I moan. "Fuck."

He finally stops, spent, pulling out of me and falling to the side.

"I love you too," he says. "Both of you."

I collapse on Y/N's chest, unable to breathe or think.

"And you," I say, stroking her cheek still pink from where I slapped her. "I love you too."

She bends down kissing my forehead. It's so sweet. So tender. My actions come back in a wash.
Everything I'd done. God. How can she love me after that? I'd hurt her. Meant to hurt her. Called
her names.

"How soon can we do it again you think," she asks. "Because that was incredible."

"You two...," Stéphan says. "You two are gonna kill me. You CANNOT already be thinking about
more."

I don't say anything. I can't. I'd hurt her. I know I had. And she loved it. She loved me anyway. My
heart swells, love and acceptance filling me all the way to my toes.

"Not me," I say clutching her close. "I need sleep."

 Stéphan

I crawl onto the bed and recline with carefully measured movements. Now that the sex is over,
cautious, nervous energy takes it's place. I didn't hurt him. I know I didn't hurt him. The sex was
magnificent. God, it was... fucking incredible. Possibly the best sex I've ever had. Ever. But it's
over. If he's going to freak out... it's most likely going to be now.

I want so desperately to curl up behind him, to pull him into my arms and fall asleep. But I don't. I
can't. I've seen it before, countless times. The easy casualness of sleeping together while Y/N was
with her parents is gone. Just this awful weight in my chest. Terror that he will call foul and my
whole world will fall apart.

Sleep claims David. Claims Y/N too. They lie together in an easy embrace and now I'm the jealous
one. Y/N is tucked in close his chest, an arm around her waist. I just watch them sleep. It's
probably a little creepy. I'd never admit to it out loud but I want it so badly. To relax and fall
asleep. With them. I wish I could.

I've tasted the forbidden fruit. Been to the promised land. If it ends now... I'll be devastated. I love
them so much. It's deeper than love. It feels like we're connected somehow. On a cellular level
maybe. It sounds silly... the idea of soul mates. That three people could be connected in such pure
perfection. But that's how it feels. Or it would if I weren't afraid of ruining everything.

"You're too far away," David says, his voice gruff with sleep, barely awake. "Come here."

He reaches for me, blindly, his arm flailing about behind him. I fight the smile that threatens the
corners of my mouth but eventually give in, releasing a sigh of relief as I scoot close to him. I wrap
my body along his back, laying a kiss on his spine and holding them both. I take a deep breath and
release it, letting peace wash over me.

I belong. I've never belonged before. The closest I ever came was when I joined Anonymous. I
thought those people had become my family. But that's not the right word. I'd thought at the time
that it was, but this... this is family. We belong, the three of us. It feels so right. Now that I have
them in my arms, I feel silly, like I was worrying over nothing. Maybe I was. I fall asleep, with
David's back rising and falling against me in quiet breaths and Y/N snoring softly.

*********

I wake a couple hours later and let that sense of peace wash over me again. David has linked his
fingers with mine and we're both holding Y/N across her stomach. I lay this way for several
minutes, absorbing the moment, imprinting it in my memory banks, filing it away. I try to go back
to sleep, but I can't.

With careful movements, I extricate myself from my lovers and roll off the bed, making my way
out of the bedroom. I dial down to room service and request a bag of lavender eucalyptus epson
salt, asking them to knock when they bring it up rather than ring the bell. I order some more food
also, in case anyone wakes up hungry. And a variety of nonalcoholic drinks. The bar is fully
stocked with booze, but I don't need that.

Forty minutes pass before room service knocks. I spend most of the time on my computer, looking
into the Department of Homeland Security and the fallout from our attack. Anonymous has been
named a terrorist organization and Trump has promised to put the full weight of the government
against us. This isn't surprising. On the flip side, hackers from all over the world have come out of
the woodwork wanting to work with us.

I walk to the door in the robe I'd donned after relieving myself when I hear the faint knock. The
attendant wheels the cart into the room and I hand him a tip.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" he ask.

"No, I'm fine," I respond. "Thank you."

I shut the door behind him, holding the handle so it won't be loud.

"What'd you get?" Y/N asks with a yawn.

"Just some sandwiches," I say. "In case anyone is hungry later. Some drinks. And epson salt. So
you can soak in the tub. It uh... well... it will help with the soreness in your muscles and... well
everywhere."

She smiles, walking over to me.

"That's so sweet of you," she says, coming up on tip toes to kiss me.

"How are you doing?" I ask, holding her in my arms. "Now that the endorphins have worn off?"

She blushes and it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

"I'm pretty sore," she says. "I may have overdone it a bit. But I'm not sorry. I'd do it all again in a
heartbeat."

"There are witch hazel wipes in the bathroom, if you find yourself uncomfortable," I say. "I um...
well... I know from experience. In the beginning especially, it really helps."

"Duly noted," she says, looking away embarrassed. "What about you? Are you okay?"

I smile, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"I am better than okay," I say.

There's still a possibility of everything blowing up in my face, but it gets smaller with each minute
that passes. I'll admit... I was nervous about today. It had seemed too good to be true, having them
both, us all being together. But so far so good. It definitely felt good to fall asleep with them.

"You should come back to bed," she says, yawning. "We missed you."

"We?" I ask.

"Well I missed you," she says. "David's asleep. But he would miss you if he were awake. I'm sure
of it."

"She's right," David says sleepily. "Did I hear there's food?"

"I'm sorry, baby," she says. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," he says, stepping out of the bedroom. "Feed me and I'll forgive you."

She moves over to the little cart and pulls one of the silver domes off, placing it on the shelf
underneath.
"These look pretty good," she says, pulling off another one. "Ooooh, there's french fries. Dibs."

"I will bodily restrain you if you think you're hogging all the fries," David says, pulling her gently
away from the cart. He kisses her, full on the mouth, leaving her dazed when he sets her away from
him.

I watch, enchanted. He seems fine. They both do.

"Why don't you eat and I'll start a bath?" I ask. "It will take awhile for the water to fill. The
bathtub's ginormous."

"A bath sounds great," David says, reaching over Y/N to steal a french fry.

He turns, walking back to me, chewing his fry. He has a cocky swagger in his walk, his eyes
devilish and predatory. It's sexy and completely lacking in self-consciousness. That look in his eyes
does more to make me think this might all work out than anything else. He swallows and grabs the
collar of my robe, pulling me into a kiss, not just any kiss, a dominant, demanding kiss. Huh.
Who'd have thought that getting fucked in the ass would make him MORE dominant?

I slide my hand up his chest and grab his throat, my thumb sliding along his jugular, feeling his
pulse, strong and steady. I smile against his mouth. He's fine. He's really fine. With everything.

"You, sir," he says, his mouth moving to my ear. "You are a god."

"I've been saying that about the both of you," Y/N says, stepping into us and laying her head
against my chest. "See? I was right."

I find myself speechless, more moved by the two of them than I can explain. I'm a little choked up
and don't have an explanation for that either. I'd been so scared. So certain that I would lose them.
But we're fine.

"Eat something," I say, pulling away from them. I grab the bag of epson salt from the cart. "Then
we'll take a bath and go back to bed."

I turn towards the bathroom.

"Hey," David says. "We love you,"

"I love you two, too," I say. "That sounds weird. Two, too. Whatever. You get the point."

I step into the bathroom and close the door trying to wrangle my emotions into some semblance of
order. It's a struggle. I'm all up in my feels. So happy. So relieved.

I bend down and pull the lever that activates the plug for the tub and sprinkle about half the bag of
salt in the bottom before turning the knobs. The water shoots out and I adjust the temp, adding
more cold so it won't burn us.

I hear Y/N giggle and smile. They're mine. They're really mine. We're okay. We're better than
okay. We're great.

In an odd moment of word association, I think of Tony the Tiger.

We're Greaaaaaaatttttt.

I shake my head, letting my thoughts wander.

We really are though - great that is.
 Y/N

I lower myself into the tub, sucking in little breaths through rounded lips as my skin adjusts to the
water temperature. David and Stéphan had gotten in first, David in the back and Stéphan relaxing
comfortably between his legs, leaning against the slightly taller man. It's so adorably cute, the two
of them together, surrounded by bubbles. For a moment, I'd just stood at the side of the tub,
looking at them, capturing this moment for my memory.

Stéphan pulls me back against his chest and I relax against him. He slides his arms under mine,
resting them on my thighs beneath the water. David rubs Stéphan's shoulder with one hand and
mine with the other. His fingers are strong and sure, thumb pressing into my shoulder blade in a
way that makes me moan.

"None of that," Stéphan says, pinching my thighs. "You two need to soak and if you keep making
those kinds of sounds, I won't be responsible for what happens."

I smile to myself, loving that I have that effect on him.

"He's right," David says. "Your poor ass. I should have been gentler."

I turn to look at David over my shoulder and flick water in his face.

"My ass is fine," I say. "Or it will be in a day or two. Besides, I loved it. Stop acting like you did
something to me. We did it together. All of us. I wanted it. In fact, it was exactly what I wanted. I'm
a big girl. I can handle it."

"I just think-," David says.

"Shush," I say, interrupting. "I'm fine. And this bath is heavenly. I want to enjoy it."

Stéphan adjusts his leg and I resettle myself. He dips a sponge into the soapy water and lifts it to
my throat, squeezing it out in a delicious trickle. Then again at my shoulder. I sink lower, letting
my breasts submerge. It feels so good. I haven't taken a bath in ages. Now I'm here, with the two
hottest guys I've ever met in real life, my... is boyfriends the right word? It doesn't feel right. It
seems... juvenile somehow. My... lovers? That just sounds weird. Boyfriends it is I guess. I'm
sitting here with my boyfriends in a bath.

I let my eyes close, thoughts drifting lazily as Stéphan continues with the sponge.

"It was pretty incredible," David says. "The sex, I mean."

"God, yes," I groan. "Speaking of, I need to get back on my birth control. Then we won't have to
bother with condoms."

"Mmmm...," Stephan moans. "Now I'm thinking about licking David's come out of your pretty
pussy."

"Fuck, that's hot," David groans.

Yes. Yes it is... Now I'm picturing it too.

"I thought you didn't want to be responsible for us sloshing water all over the bathroom," I say.

"I'm not," he says, his voice sounding like there's a smile on his face. "You brought it up."
I turn and smack his shoulder. A playful smack. He grabs my wrist as it withdraws, so fast, his
hand rising out of the water to catch me. It shouldn't be hot. I don't even know why it is, but it
tightens things low in my belly.

"Be good," he says.

"Yes, sir," I breathe out, the words barely a whisper.

I feel him shake his head and know that I messed up. My pulse races as his thumb strokes the
tender flesh of my wrist.

"I didn't give you permission to call me that," he says, his voice low and deep. "Now I've got to
punish you."

"It just slipped out," I say, my breath catching in my throat.

God... he makes me crazy. My pussy is swollen and sore, but I already want him.

"When we finish our bath," he says, his lips caressing the edge of my ear as he speaks, sending
shivers down my spine despite the warm water. "I'm going to lay you across the bed and spank you.
It's going to turn you on. You're going to ache, wanting my dick inside you."

"That's a punishment?" I ask. Doesn't sound like much of a punishment. It sounds amazing.

"It will be when I make you go to sleep without getting what you want," he says. "Bad girls don't
get dick."

"Oh... my...," I breathe out, my pussy clenching hard, a slow throb beginning.

"Now, lean forward so I can wash your back," he says, his voice returning to it's normal tone and
rhythm.

"I could take David instead," I say, arousal making me brave. "It doesn't have to be you."

I let out a little gasp when his other hand grabs my jaw, holding me very still against his lips.

"Keep it up and you won't get to come for days," he says, his voice dropping down and taking on a
gravelly sound. "David knows better and your pert mouth just earned you ten more swats. You're
going to be so wet and aching when I'm done with you, you might not even be able to sleep."

I don't know what's come over me. I'm already wet and aching and it's making me stupid.

"I could masturbate," I say. "Lay in the bed next to you two and make you listen while I get myself
off, hear how gushy wet my pussy gets, the noises I make."

He sucks in a breath at my words and a trace of fear draws goosebumps up my arms. I scream
when he stands abruptly, taking me with him. Before I know what's happening, he spins me around
and throws me over his shoulder, stepping out of the tub. He doesn't bother with a towel.

"David, do something," I say, my voice high and panicked.

"You got yourself into this, princess," he says, reclining deeper in the tub and crossing his hands
behind his head. "You're on your own."

"Stéphan, put me DOWN," I cry as he carries me to the bedroom. "I'm sorry."

He doesn't respond, just shifts me on his shoulder so he has a better grip and continues walking.
The air goes out of me in a whoosh when he tosses me onto the bed.

"Don't move," he says, his voice hard and uncompromising.

He walks over to the bag of god knows what on the other side of the room, soap suds and little
drops of water clinging to his body. It's impossibly sexy and entirely ridiculous. My pussy pulses. I
mentally tell her to shut up. Look at the trouble you started. You just HAD to push him. I ignore the
tremor of pleasure that sparks through me wondering what kind of punishment he has in store for
me.

I swallow hard as he begins to pull things out and throw them on the bed. Two sets of restraints, a
blindfold, a set of ear plugs and a vibrator land on the bed. Each item increases my anxiety. He
turns, looking at me, his face set in hard lines that are indescribably sexy and dominant.

"Now you may refer to me as sir," he says, his voice sending a shiver through me.

"Yes, sir," I say, ignoring the way my body tightens in arousal.

"I'm going to tie you up," he says. "You'll lay here with a vibrator inside you, unable to see or hear
until I finish my bath. Then I'm going to spank you like I promised. Do you understand?"

I take a shallow breath. Fuck.

"Yes, sir," I say, my voice small.

He crawls on the bed, pushing me down and holding my eyes.

"If you come while I'm gone," he says, stroking a finger along my jaw, "you won't get any dick for
a week. You won't even get to suck a dick. You'll watch as I fuck David. As he fucks me and you'll
get nothing. Your pussy aching as you watch us until you think you'll go insane."

"But," I say.

"No," he says, cutting me off. "This isn't a debate. This is your punishment."

He slides his fingers down my throat, squeezing with the barest pressure, just enough to make me
ache. He drops his face, his mouth hovering over mine, the barest millimetre separating us, our
breaths mingling.

"Do you agree?" he asks.

"I can say no?" I ask, my chest rising and falling painfully with each ragged breath.

"You can," he says. "But if you agree, I'll kiss you before I tie you up."

"I agree," I say, the words out of my mouth before I can consider the circularity of his argument.

His mouth lands on mine in a rush. He kisses me hard, drawing a moan from my mouth as I lift my
chin and turn my head, giving him deeper access. Our tongues slide together, teeth nipping at each
other. I gasp into his mouth when he pinches my nipple, groaning when he rolls it between his
fingers.

This is not a kiss. This is a fever pitch. This is heaven and hell all rolled into one because I know
any moment, it will be over and I'll be this needy, wanton thing, begging him to come back. Son of
a bitch... that was his intention all along. He manipulated me. He wants me turned on and aching. I
try to draw it back, but I'm too far gone, giving over to his lips and hands as my arousal peaks, my
pussy wet and throbbing.

His hand closes around my wrist, wrapping it in a leather cuff, buckling it in the blink of an eye.
God. My heart races. I knew it was coming. I don't know why the feel of it around my wrist
catches my breath in my throat. He leans up, wrapping the woven nylon cord around the spindle on
the four poster bed, yanking my arm tight before tying it off. I gasp, eyeing him as he walks around
the bed.

He kisses me again, his tongue plunging into my mouth with abandon. Fuck. I need him. I need
him now. That's what he wants. The look in his eyes is sinister as he takes my other wrist, buckling
me into the cuff and tying it off like the other, spreading my arms as wide as they can reach.

I watch with shallow breaths as he takes the earplugs out of their package. He crawls onto the bed,
straddling me at my hips, his dick hard and pressing into my stomach. Fucking torture. He turns
my head to the side, pushing one earplug in. His fingers caress my jaw, sending little electric pulses
of pleasure through me. He turns me the other way and my breath comes faster as he inserts the
second earplug.

I force myself to take deep breaths as he slips the blindfold over my eyes. Everything goes black
and I'm dying. He kisses down my stomach, licking the bruises David had left earlier, making new
ones of his own, his teeth tightening on my skin as he sucks little love bites into my flesh. I arch
my back, unconsciously begging for more, but he ignores me.

My eyes widen behind the blindfold when he spreads my legs and licks my clit. Fuck. He's going to
kill me with this. I'm definitely going to die. He touches the buzzing vibrator against my clit and I
moan, the sound distorted with the earplugs. It slides down my wet slit and pushes inside me. I feel
the vibrations increase as he turns it to maximum intensity. God, I can't. I can't take this. It's too
much. Delicious torture.

I expect him to tie my legs the way he does my arms, but he pushes them closed, increasing the
pressure of the vibrator inside me. Gawwwwwwwdddd. I'm aching. Dying. The vibrations driving
me crazy. He ties my ankles together somehow and attaches it so I can't move.

"Please, don't go," I say, the sound of the words muffled from my ears.

He lays a chaste kiss on my lips, and then he's gone.

Seconds become hours without sight or sound. I'm so wet, so horny I want to die. I dare not come,
but it's so close. I find myself clenching around the vibrator unconsciously, pleasure knotting my
insides. It takes all my will not to come. Not to give into the torture he devised. And it IS torture. I
know in my soul he'd meant it when he said he'd punish me for a week if I give in. I can't bear the
thought of it. Not when we're all finally together.

My legs are shaking from the effort it takes not to give in to the pleasure.

It's unending, a never ending torture.

I find myself begging, unintelligible words and sounds coming from my throat. I want to come so
bad I could cry. Maybe I am crying. I can't even tell anymore. Every cell in my body is tense and
aching. I'd give anything to come. Literally anything.

AND HE ISN'T GOING TO LET ME.

Even when this awful torture ends, I'm going to be spanked and sent to bed without sex. I can't take
it. I'm LITERALLY GOING TO DIE.
 David

"You're evil," I say as Stéphan walks through the door, his dick standing at attention. It would be,
of course, after all that. "You know that, right?"

"Shut up and put my dick in your mouth," he says, walking over to the edge of the tub.

Or we can do that. He steps into the tub and turns to face me, one hand holding onto the wall. His
dick is so hard, a drop of pre-cum dripping from the tip. I sit up and take hold of his hips, guiding
him into my mouth. It isn't like before. He's not careful or controlled.

His hands slide through my hair, holding me in place as he pushes deeper. He begins to thrust in
and out, growling and groaning. This isn't me sucking his dick. This is him fucking my face. He's
using me and I don't care. I open my mouth wider, mindful of my teeth and let him take what he
wants. It's fast and dirty. Raw. I choke on his cock, but he doesn't stop. I fight for air, but even that
doesn't seem to matter.

My dick hardens and I have tears in my eyes. I don't care. He's using me and I don't care about that
either. It's hot. It's so fucking hot.

"Take it, David," he says. "I'm gonna come. Swallow it."

I can't help but moan when he shoves himself deep, coming in a wash down my throat to the
soundtrack of Y/N's begging and inarticulate pleas. He thrusts again and I can taste him on my
tongue now. I gag when he shoves back into my throat, but he doesn't stop, not until every last drop
has gone down my throat.

"Fuck, David," he says, pulling out of my mouth.

I would second the exclamation but I'm still learning how to breathe. He drops to his knees,
straddling me in the bathtub and I'm surprised when he reaches behind him and grabs my cock,
guiding it to his ass. He pushes down on it, his eyes rolling into his head as I groan. God. Damn. I
grab him, pulling his mouth to mine, kissing him as he rides me, as he takes my dick, all of it, with
no prep and no lube besides soapy bathwater.

It's amazing. God. It's so fucking good. I grab his hips and leverage my feet on the bottom of the
tub, thrusting into his ass with abandon. This. God. This. I hadn't known if I would ever get this
from him, unsure about tops or bottoms but it's HAPPENING. Every sound Y/N makes pushes us
further in our frenzy. And the way he'd fucked my face. Now he's riding my dick. Riding the fuck
out of my dick. Water splashes out of the tub but neither of us care.

He pushes me so high, so fast. Everything about this is making me crazy. His abandon. The lack of
control. Y/N begging from the other room. Knowing that when we finish here, I'm going to watch
him dom the fuck out of her. I can't last. You'd think as many times as I've come I'd have some
control, but MY DICK IS IN HIS ASS AND HE'S FUCKING THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

"I'm gonna come," I say, my lips moving against his mouth. "Stéphan, I'm gonna come."

"Tell me you love me," he says, his voice frantic, as possessed as mine.

"I love you," I growl, shoving my dick deeper.

"You need me," he says.

"Yes, GOD," I say.

"You'll never leave me," he says, kissing me deeply.

"Never," I respond. "I'll never leave you. I love you."

"I love you too, David," he says. "God, I fucking LOVE you. Now come. Come for me. Come in
me. Make me take it."

I lose it. I lose any hope of control, rolling us in the tub as water sloshes over the sides. I put him on
the bottom of the tub and push his knees back, my dick sliding in and out of him, so hard, so fast,
my knees scraping the bottom of the tub.

"Yes, God, David," he says, the words grinding out through clenched teeth. "Fuck me. Use me.
Use me like I used your mouth. Come for me."

I grab onto the edge of the tub, using it for leverage and pound into him, my dick swelling as I
come... and come... and come...

I feel like I'm drunk or high when I finally pull out, sitting back on my feet. I'm breathing so hard.
Like a crazy person.

"What..." breathe... "was..." breathe... "that?"

I look at him, his lips swollen from our kiss. Mine are too I imagine. It had been so... something.
Aggressive maybe. It wasn't nice. It was... the most basic form of uncontrollable desire.
Unstoppable. Immutable.

"You liked it," he says, his dominant air sliding back into place.

I did. Of course I had. But for just a second... Just a minute... he had seemed... lost, desperate. It
only makes me love him more.

"Come here," he says, pulling on my arms.

I let him draw me into an embrace. Let him kiss me softly and turn me in the tub so I'm leaning
against his chest.

"I'm addicted to you," I say. "To your sex and the way you control me. To your vulnerable
moments when Y/N or I get through all your defenses. I don't know how we worked together for
so long and only now..."

I stop, embarrassed. It's not like me to do this.

"Sir, PLEASE," Y/N screams.

"We better do something about that," he says.

I step out of the tub and dry off with the last towel. We'll have to call down for some more. I hand
it to Stéphan when I'm finished. He grabs my shoulder.

"Thank you," he says. "I'd never have been able to get through this punishment without fucking her
otherwise."

I clear my throat, blushing.

"It was...uhh...," I say. "It was my pleasure."
 Stéphan

I pull David into a kiss. That hadn't come out the way I'd meant. I just... NEEDED him.
Desperately. It's wasn't about Y/N. It was him, being with him, loving him. What just happened
was ALL about him. I try to tell show him with my mouth what I hadn't been articulate enough to
convey.

We break apart, listening to Y/N's pleas.

"Sir, I'm sorry," she cries. "I'm so sorry. Please come back."

David walks across the bedroom taking the chair on the other side of the room. I do love an
audience. I crawl onto the bed and Y/N silences instantly, her noises reducing to whimpers of
pleasure and need. I straddle her, leaning down to bring my lips to hers. Her lips part as I kiss her,
my touch soft, sweet.

"P-please," she whispers against my mouth. "I'm sorry. I'll be good."

I turn her head to the side, removing first one, then the second earplug.

"I know you will," I say, kissing her again. "You did so good."

I reach out and unhook the leather cuff from the nylon cord. She draws her arm in and I repeat the
process on the other side. I push the blindfold up, letting it rest on her forehead. She smiles,
blinking fast, her eyes adjusting to the light. I scoot down her body, releasing her feet and
spreading them open so I can remove the vibrator.

"God, thank you," she says. "Thank you, sir."

I crawl back up the bed and pull her into my arms, rocking her gently.

"You're okay," I say. "You're more than halfway done. All that's left is the spanking."

"Won't you please fuck me," she begs. "I need it."

"I'll fuck you in the morning," I say. "If you're a very good girl."

She cries at that and I love it. That she wants me that badly. That even though we've had so much
sex, she wants my dick in her.

"You promise?" she asks.

I smile.

"Yes, I promise," I say. "IF you're a very good girl who takes her punishment. Are you ready?"

She shakes her head but says, "Yes, sir."

I put her in the middle of the bed, leaving her hands free and spreading her legs, enough that I can
see her pussy glisten in the light. I straddle her knees, running my fingertips down her spine. She
shivers and I bite my lip. I love that. It's such a sensitive area of the body. So many nerve endings.

My hand draws back and lands on her ass with a satisfying slap. She sucks in a breath, clenching
her fingers in the sheets. The reddened image of my hand appears on her ass. So pretty. I hit her
again, twice in short succession on the other cheek.

"Oh gawwwwd," she says when I rub the reddened flesh.

"That's my good girl," I say, sliding two fingers from my other hand inside her. Fuck, she's so wet.
So tight. Her swollen pussy clenches around my fingers. I slide them in and out of her as I smack
her several times, until her ass is bright and warm when I rest my fingers there.

Y/N grabs her head, squeezing her hand into fists and pulling her hair.

"Please, sir," she begs.

I smack her again, a particularly hard slap, watching as her ass jiggles, my fingers still inside her,
moving tortuously slow. She's so pretty with her desire naked on her face. Again and again, my
hand falls, pausing sometimes as my fingers play in her pussy, other slaps landing in quick
succession.

"Oh god," she cries. "Please. Please, sir. Please just let me come. Fuck."

I ignore her pleas, ignore the way she begs. Well... I try to. She's so fucking hot, and the anguish in
her voice sears my soul. I want her. Even though I just came, I want her. Tomorrow. I just have to
make it to the morning. Fuck.

Y/N lifts her hips and it damn near kills me. I smack her ass again, pulling my fingers out of her
pussy and rubbing her clit.

"Yes," she breaths. "Oh, god, yes. Fuck."

My hand falls in a volley of slaps, hitting the same place repeatedly and making her ass dance, as I
stroke her clit. She's breathing hard, her ass growing redder by the second.

"Do you still want to come, princess?" I ask.

It's a rhetorical question. Of course she does. I know she does. I just want to hear her say it.

"God, yes," she whines, her legs already shaking. "Please let me come, sir."

I begin to spank her in earnest, hard slaps, no pauses. I hit her ten times before acquiescing.

"Come, baby," I say, gritting my teeth. "Come for me."

I shove my fingers inside her, fast, so fast, feel her clench around them, her pussy growing wetter
by the second.

Her pussy spasms around my fingers as she comes, unintelligible sounds coming from her mouth as
the pleasure engulfs her. She gushes on my fingers, the liquid coming out of her in a wash as her
pussy spasms. So hot. Fuck. I want to make her do that on my tongue. Can't think of anything
besides tasting it.

"God, Y/N," I say, mentally telling my dick to behave. "You're so beautiful."

When her spasms cease, I flip her on her back, and lay down beside her, sliding my arm beneath
her neck. She's sweating, her breaths still coming fast. I push little tendrils of sweat soaked hair
from her brow before kissing her softly.

"Was I good?" she ask, "Is it done?"

Fucking precious. I. Can't. Even.

"Yes, baby," I say, my lips moving against her mouth, unable to pull away, unable to stop kissing
her. "You did great."

My hand splays on her belly. I tell myself it's enough, but my fingers move towards her clit, as if
drawn by an invisible force. Fuck... I can't help myself. I'm going to do it again.

I draw little circles on her clit with the pads of my fingers and her back arches. She moans into my
mouth, her fingernails digging into my leg.

"That's it," I say. "Let go baby. Give me another."

I kiss down her body, licking and sucking at her nipples, while my fingers work her clit. Tongue
tracing random patterns on her abdomen. I settle myself between her thighs, biting one then the
other, leaving behind little love bite bruises.

"Are you gonna come for me?" I ask. "Come for daddy."

I dip my head down and taste her, licking her slit, sliding my tongue between her folds. She tastes
so good. Intoxicatingly good. I breathe deep, drawing the scent of her deep into my nose.

"Oh god," she says. "Yes. Fuck, please. Please make me come, daddy."

I smile, sucking her clit into my mouth and sliding my fingers into her. I don't know why I said
that. I've never made anyone call me daddy before. It just happened, coming out of my mouth
before I had a chance to think about the words. Hearing her repeat it back to me... God. Tomorrow.
I have to wait till tomorrow. Her pussy needs to rest. To heal. At least a little. I make a mental note
to remember to be gentle tomorrow and then there's nothing left but the way she feels around my
fingers, the way she tastes on my tongue.

I draw three more orgasms from her but she doesn't gush. She's shaking, her body never coming
down enough to stop. I love every second, determined to feel her gush on my face. I want it. I need
it. I've become possessed, eating her and fucking her with my fingers.

I feel the bed shift as David joins us and look up her body, watching as David kisses her. Watch as
his fingers come to rest on her throat. My fingers slide in and out of her, her clit inside my mouth,
my tongue flicking back and forth as he chokes her. Her hands clench in the sheets and I know
she's close.

"Give it to me," I say, my lips pressed against. "Please, baby. Come on my face. Come for daddy."

I suck her clit back into my mouth and her body goes still. Like the eye of a hurricane. She groans
and I feel it, she's coming. God... I dip my head, letting her wetness cover my chin as I suck her clit.
A second later, I feel her spasm, feel her pussy convulse around my fingers.

She cries out and the sound sends an aching pulse to my dick. Tomorrow. You can fuck her
tomorrow. And so help me god, if she doesn't gush on my dick tomorrow I'll lose my fucking
mind.

"So good," she says. "Fucking hell, your mouth, sir."

She grinds against me, her hips bucking as the orgasm takes over. I love making her come. God, I
love that as much as anything I've ever done in my whole fucking life. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. You
have to wait for tomorrow.
The waiting is gonna kill me.
 Y/N

I blink awake slowly, reliving the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday... god... yesterday had been
insane. I'd been terrified the entire time at the train station, convinced men with guns would jump
out from somewhere, taking me back to that awful room where they held me before. It wasn't until
I got in the car that I'd started to breathe easier. And then... my boyfriends had consumed my every
thought.

The smell of sex is still thick in the room. So many orgasms. I've lost count. My body is sore, stiff
from laying in one position for so long after such vigorous use the prior day. I ache in places that
don't even make sense, muscles I can't have possibly used. And others... that I definitely did. And
yet, I can already feel myself growing aroused as the memory of last night, of Stéphan and the
things he'd done to me awakens my girl parts.

I've never before experienced such... fuck, i don't even know what the right word is. Control
maybe. Blindfolded and unable to hear, my entire focus had become the vibrator between my legs.
At the pleasure it evoked. At the torture it provided, knowing I couldn't come despite how
painfully close I'd been. Stéphan had seen to that, manipulating me masterfully.

I'd been desperate for his dick, needing it more than air or life or anything. He'd refused me. I'd
thought I'd go mad as he tortured me with tongue and hands, making come SO MANY TIMES, but
refusing to fill me like I needed. I've never felt such an aching emptiness before. The more I'd
come, the more my pussy felt like an empty, aching hole.

Stéphan had promised he'd fuck me today and my pussy is already aching for it. Bitch, chill. He's
asleep. They're both asleep. I shift my body, feeling Stéphan's morning wood pressing against my
abdomen. God, what I wouldn't give to reach down and push him inside me. I need a condom
though and I definitely can't reach. My pussy is obviously still running this show, because I find
myself grinding my clit against his hard length, biting my hand to stifle a moan.

God, I want him inside me. I'm working up the nerve to get out of the bed and get a condom when
one appears, like magic. David holds one of the gold foil packets out to me. I meet his eyes, finding
them hungry and alert.

"Have I told you I love you?" I whisper, taking the foil from him.

"Not today," he says, winking. "I'm gonna pee, I'll be back."

I open the packet, pulling the rubber circle out. A glance at Stéphan confirms he's still asleep. Not
for long. I roll the rubber onto his dick and he groans sleepily. He squeezes an arm around me as I
wrap my leg around him, rolling him onto his back and slipping his dick inside me.

Gawwwwd. It hurts so good. I press him deeper, feeling my aching, swollen pussy stretch to take
him.

"Mmmm," he says, opening his eyes. "Someone is being bad."

"Uh-uhhh," I say, rocking my hips. "You promised. Now, shut up and let me fuck you."

His eyes darken, but he rests his hands behind his head.

"By all means, badness," he says. "Get your rocks off so I can fuck you how I want."
I shake my head.

"I'm too sore," I say. "You gotta let me do it. Just lay there and let me fuck you."

"Aww, baby," he says, leaning up, his arms trying to wrap around me.

I put my hand in his chest and shove him back down, rocking my hips to push him in and out of
me.

"I don't want to be babied," I say. "I don't want to be handled with kid gloves. I just want to fuck
you. Let me fuck you, please."

David returns from the bathroom, crawling across the bed to slide behind Stéphan, throwing the
pillows over his shoulder. He grabs Stéphan's hands, linking their fingers together.

"You owe her this," David says. "After last night, it's the least you can do."

"Fine," Stéphan says, pouting. "You might be right. But at least let me have my hands."

"It's so sexy seeing him hold you like that though," I say, grinding in little circles. "You're not really
gonna deprive me of the visual."

He growls and it sends a shiver through me.

"No," he says. "I'm gonna let you take what you want from me, but you're killing me with the slow
build. I may literally die."

"You can take it," I say.

I press my hands into his chest, using them for leverage to slowly lift myself up as I lean forward
and kiss his mouth. He groans as I ease myself back down, a shudder of pleasure making me
clench around him. It's the most delicious ache.

I fuck him slowly, letting my pleasure rise in tortuously slow increments. I'm so sore, but he feels
so good inside me. And the sounds he's making. The look on his face. He looks so tortured and I
love it. I've never seen that look on him before.

"God, baby," Stéphan says. "Fucking hell but you're tight. So fucking tight. Ride me, baby. Fuck
daddy's cock."

He strains against David, his jaw ticking in the most delicious way.

"Daddy likes it?" I ask impetuously.

"Daddy loves it," he growls, the sound washing over me. "I fucking love it, baby. You're killing
me and I love it. Please come. Come for me. On me. Use me. Please, baby."

"You can let go," I say to David. "Let him touch me. I want it."

Stéphan bites his lip and makes a sound I can only describe as a snarl. He reaches for me, his hands
resting on my hips. He lets me keep my pace, but his fingertips squeeze so tight that I find myself
increasing the pace, my tension rising, pleasure heightened, pushing away the soreness, or making
me forget it.

"My tits," I say, my voice sounding husky to my ears. "Play with my tits."
"Can I suck them?" he asks.

I think we're both dying now. He asked. He really asked. He could have just done it, but he asked.

"Yes," I breathe out, letting out a little gasp as he leans up, his abs flexing. God, his abs. He's so
sexy. He palms one breast, rubbing my nipple between his thumbs as he bites the other. My head
falls back. "Jesus fuck. Harder. No kid gloves. Remember?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he says.

I reach out and grab his jaw, possessed by ... I don't even know what. I pull him away so he can see
my face. So I can meet his eyes.

"Then what good are you?" I ask. "Daddy would hurt me. Where's he at?"

For a second, there is nothing. No words. No movement. It's like a bomb went off. His eye twitches
and I hold my breath, wondering if, in the moment, I had gone too far. Why had I said that? What
do I want?

I want out of control Stéphan. I had teased us both for damn near an hour and I want to push him
beyond reason or control. I want him to hurt me. I can barely feel the sore ache anymore and I want
him to capitalize on it. I think. The look in his eyes... I feel a tremor of fear and suck in a shallow
breath, wondering if maybe I don't like that sliver of fear as much as anything else he does to me.

"Right fucking here, bitch," Stéphan says. "I am right fucking here."

He flips me over, his cock slamming into me, so hard and so fast as he bends down and bites my
nipple, hard enough I scream. God, yes. This is what I want. This frenzy. This burning desire. I
reach for him, but David, who's lap I'd landed in, grabs my hands.

"His turn," he says, grinning down at me when I look up at him.

David holds me acting as my restraints, holding me captive as Stéphan fucks me savagely. He

grabs my throat, squeezing with one hand and slapping my cheek with the other. My eyes roll back
and I come, instantly pushed over the edge, squirting and spasming with violent intensity.

"God, yes," he says, releasing my throat. "Fuck, baby, come all over my cock."

He grips my hips, holding me down with the full force of his body as he pounds into me, the angle
and the pressure, making him slide against my g-spot with every thrust, drawing out my orgasm,
making it last forever.

"Take it," he says through gritted teeth, his hips losing rhythm. "Take this fucking dick."

"Give it to me, daddy," I groan. "Hurt me."

He slaps me and I gush again, feeling the liquid stream out of me in a hot wash. I am losing my
mind. It feels so good. So fucking good.

"Gawwwwwwd," he yells, thrusting deep as he comes, his dick impossibly fat "Such a good little
fucktoy. Come baby. Come one last time for daddy."

My breath catches in my throat when he pulls out of me and smacks my pussy. He spanks my clit
and I come again, from pleasure or pain or some combination of the two, my body convulsing from
the intensity.
He collapses against me, grabbing hold of my middle.

"God, you drive me crazy," he says when he can breathe again.

"Pot... kettle," I say, still fighting for my own breath.

I feel him smile against my stomach.

"You shouldn't have done that," he says. "One of these days, you're gonna get hurt."

I've acknowledged I'm a bit of a masochist, at least to myself anyway. It's my pussy's fault. Bitch
goes insane when one of them hurts me and I haven't found the line yet for what's too much.

"I wouldn't argue with an ice pack at some point," I say, my endorphins fading, the ache returning.

"Yeah, of course," he says. "Just give me a minute to learn how to walk again."

"I'll get it," David says, releasing my wrists.

"Kiss me first," I say, not wanting him to go. "Please."

It had felt amazing having him at my back. Feeling his strong fingers holding my wrists. Feeling
his eyes devour us. Gonna give him a special one-on-one session when I can walk again. It might
be a few days though. Because I definitely overdid it this time.

It was so good though. Worth it. So fucking worth it.

He kisses me, his lips gentle and sweet. I love that. That when the violence is over they're both so
sweet. It makes me feel treasured. Precious.

"Should I order food too?" he asks.

"YES," Stéphan and I say in unison.

"Don't go anywhere," he says. "I'll be right back."

"I don't think I could if I wanted to," I say, chuckling.

"Me neither," Stéphan says, snuggling into me.

"At least take the condom off," David says.

"Can't move," he says. "I need a minute."

David walks away, shaking his head. He returns a few minutes later, laptop in hand.

"All right," he says. "Food's coming. Oh my god, you still haven't dealt with the condom?" He
picks up a trash can and holds it out. "Here, man. Jesus"

I realize we had both fallen asleep. I shake Stéphan.

"Wake up, baby," I say. "You gotta take off the condom."

He stirs, and manages to get it off, tossing the condom in the trash can David was holding out.

"Wake me up when the food comes," he says, burying his face in my neck.
David sits next to us, opening the laptop. I turn my head, kissing his thigh. My thoughts drift, so
close to sleep. I don't know how long it lasts, but it's a beautiful.

The laptop slams closed, startling me. David stands and begins to pace the floor.

"Mother fucking bastards," he says.

I come awake instantly, sitting up, the aches and pains of my body, disappearing in a wave of
worry.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"My mom," he says. "They took my fucking mom."

 David

Blind fury boils my blood, flowing through every cell of my body. I want to break something. Hurt
someone. I can't believe they took my fucking mom. GOD.

"Who," Stéphan says, opening the laptop and beginning to type. I hadn't even noticed he'd woken
up. "Who took her?"

"I don't know," I say, unable to think past the rage. "The video didn't show any defining insignia or
uniform characteristics. Unmarked vehicle. They were wearing fatigues and bullet proof vests, and
SpecOps helmets. They carted her off like a criminal."

"When did they take her? What time?" Stéphan asks.

"Yesterday afternoon, like five o'clock," I say.

Oh god. This our fault. We attacked DHS and within a few hours, they took my mom. Stéphan
spins the laptop to me.

"Pull up the video," he says.

My fingers shake as I attempt to log in to the system I had installed for mom. It takes me three tries
to correctly enter the password. I isolate the video and hit enter, pushing it back to Stéphan.

"It can't be DHS," he says, fingers flying over the keys. "They don't have any records of us even
being there. They lost everything when we 86'd the servers. I'm crosschecking emails from DHS at
the time of our capture. Maybe we'll get a hit."

He spends several minutes typing. Y/N stands and comes over to where I'm pacing. She stops me
with a hand on my chest, attempting to draw me into a hug.

"I can't," I say. "I want to hurt something. Break something. I don't want it to be you."

"I can take it," she says, stepping into my personal space.

My breaths come faster. I'm falling apart inside my head. I can't. I shouldn't...

I drop to my knees and crush my arms around her, squeezing so tight, burying my face in her throat,
tears of worry and fear coming in a wash. She murmurs soft, soothing words, but I can't make them
out, only the sound of them. There's a roaring in my ears, like a jet or a waterfall. So loud, blocking
out the world.

It crashes over me, sweeping me in violent sobs as I squeeze Y/N tighter to me. Please, god, let
mom be okay. I swear to god if they hurt her... If they hurt one tiny hair on her head I'll burn this
whole country to the ground. Fuck... Devon...

I pull away, wiping my eyes and trying to compose myself.

"My brother doesn't know," I say, looking around for my phone. "I've got to tell Devon."

"Got it," Stéphan says, hitting a key on the computer triumphantly. "Looks like it was a group of
border patrol appropriated by the CIA. Those same fuckers the president sent to Portland. I can
find out where they're holding her, but it will take time to cover my tracks. We can't afford for
them to trace the hack back to here."
I stand, feeling lost.

"Just find her," I say. "Whatever it takes. And... check on Y/N's parents. I want to be sure they're
okay."

I watch as the color drains out of her face. She hadn't thought about that. Hadn't considered the
possibility. Shit. I'm an asshole.

"Don't worry," I say, hugging her to me this time. "It's going to be fine."

The words taste like ash in my mouth. Even I don't believe them.

"I'm okay," she says. "Let's just find your phone."

It doesn't take long. I go to the bathroom for some privacy and open a VPN. Wouldn't do to get
sloppy now. I route my call through several countries bouncing it off of a couple different satellites
and set up a meet. I don't want to tell him over the phone. Not something like this.

"I'm going out," I say, pulling on a pair of jeans. "I'll be back after I meet with Devon."

"That's a bad idea," Stéphan says, looking up at me.

"It's our MOM," I say, frustrated. "I'm not gonna tell him over the phone."

"David, please," Stéphan says. "Just give me some time. I'll find her. You don't even know where
she's at yet. At least wait until we have more intel."

"What would you know?" I ask, pulling a t-shirt over my head. "You never had a mom. Or a
brother."

He cringes like I slapped him. Shit. Still being an asshole. Dammit. I shake my head, ashamed.

"I'm sorry," I say, running a hand through my hair. "I didn't mean to say that. I'm just... It's our
mom. I have to do this in person."

Stéphan stands, walking over to me. He pulls me into a quick, chaste kiss.

"Forget it," he says. "I understand. Just be careful. I WILL find her. I promise I will."

I pull him in for another kiss.

"I'll be okay," I say, turning to Y/N.

I kiss her too.

She puts a card key in my hand.

"Watch your six," she says. "Or whatever it is military people say."

The corner of my mouth lifts. It's almost a smile. It's something. I kiss her forehead and walk out
the door.

The elevator opens immediately when I press the button. I hit the 'L' button and lean against the
back wall, sliding my hands in my pockets. So much nervous energy. I feel like I'm spinning out of
control. Or like the world is. My MOM. I just... I can't... I can't believe they took her. Can't believe
I didn't see this coming or plan for it. God, please let her be okay.
The elevator doors open and I walk to the concierge desk.

"How may I help you?" the man asks.

"Can I get a taxi?" I ask.

"Certainly sir," he says. "Right outside and to the right. The valet will call one. There are usually
several waiting."

"Thank you," I say.

I walk through the lobby to the big glass doors, following the concierge's instructions. The car ride
seems to last forever, like time has slowed down. I swear we drive for hours, but my phone says it's
only twenty minutes. I pay the driver and give him a tip, stepping out onto the curb at a park.

Devon is already there and I pull him into a hug.

"What's going on?" he asks.

I pull away... unsure how to say it. Unable to find the calm, rational part of my brain that usually
manages stressful situations. I shake my head. Just say it.

"The CIA has mom," I say. "They took her yesterday."

"WHAT?" Devon exclaims. "What happened?"

"It was a couple hours after the DHS attack," I say. "Stéphan is working on finding out where she's
being held but he says it will take awhile."

"Is she okay?" Devon asks, his voice cracking.

"I don't know," I say, wrapping my arms around myself. "She looked okay when they carted her
off, but it's been almost twenty-four hours since then."

"God," he says. "Okay. What can I do?"

"We don't have a plan yet," I say. "We don't know anything other than that they took her. But you
can round up some of the team. We're at the St. Regis. Presidential Suite. Bring equipment, but try
be inconspicuous. Laptops only. And keep your face covered."

"Yeah... yeah... okay," he says. "I can get Giselle and Simmons for sure."

"We're gonna get her back," I say.

"You're damn right we are," he says. "I just hate that she found out about us this way. You know
they're filling her head full of crap."

"Come on," I say. "It's mom. She won't buy into their bullshit. She raised us to think for ourselves.
You gotta trust her to do the same."

"If they hurt her..." he says, cracking his knuckles.

"You already know," I say.

"God," he says, shoulders sagging. "I didn't even check on her. I've been so busy with DHS. They
got someone decent working on their phones. I've had to re-script it seven times."
"You recognize the signature?" I ask.

"Naw," he says. "It's not anybody on my radar."

"We're gonna get her back," I say. "Don't blame yourself. I didn't check until about an hour ago."

"Don't blame YOURSELF, either," Devon says.

It's hard not to. It was beyond careless. I've been fucking my brains out while our mom has been
captured by the government. How can I NOT feel guilty?

"I don't know, man," I say. "At least you've been working. I... well... I haven't been working."

"You're doing okay though?" he asks. "The three of you? I mean... before you found out about
mom obviously. You guys are like poly or something?"

"Yeah," I say, running a hand through my hair. "It's crazy, right?"

"Whatever, man," he says, gesturing. "I don't give a shit. I just want you to be happy. With
WHOEVER makes you happy."

"That means a lot," I say.

We part after a long hug and I hail a taxi, lost in thought.

 Stéphan

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks. She'd waited until David left.

I shrug.

"It's not like he's wrong," I say. "I don't have a mother. Or a brother. I don't know what that kind of
familial bond is like. Or what I'd do in his situation."

I sit back down on the bed and continue working on the laptop. Y/N snuggles in behind me and I
immediately feel better. I'd told him it was no big deal and I meant it. I get that he's upset and
stressed out. In my head I know these things, but his words had stung. Having Y/N's wrapped
around me, knowing that she loves me. That she cares. It takes a bit of the sting away.

"It's okay, you know," she says, her finger tracing some invisible pattern on my shoulder. "To love
someone and be mad at them because they hurt you. It doesn't mean you love them any less."

"I know," I say. "I just... it doesn't matter. He apologized. It's fine."

"Stéphan," she says, her voice soft.

I don't respond. It's fine, right? I'm fine? The more she talks about it, the less fine I feel. I push it
away, working instead on the coding for my hack. Hacking the CIA is no small feat. I've done it
before, but not on a timeline. Not like this. David's depending on me. His mom is depending on
me. I don't have time to be all up in my feelings.

"Stéphan, please," she repeats. "I know it hurt you. If you talk about it, it will hurt less. It may not
seem like it, but I promise it will."

She kisses my back, little brushes of her lips, like she can kiss the pain away. Maybe she can. Just
hearing how much she cares about my hurt feelings is doing a lot. Surprisingly.

"It wasn't what he said," I say, concentrating very hard on my coding, focusing on it, so that the
words I speak seem to come from some other part of my brain. "He lashed out because he feels
guilty. Because he's been fucking us while his mom is being held god knows where, experiencing
god knows what. I'm afraid... that his guilt will make him pull away from me. From us."

I stretch my fingers out over the keyboard, hovering above the keys and let myself feel what I just
said. That's what had hurt. I know I don't have familial ties. There have been times in my life that I
was jealous of people that do. Times in my life when it would have been the fact that I don't have
them that hurt. But now... God, I can't bear the thought of not waking up next to Y/N and David.
Of not being with them. They healed a place in my heart that I didn't even know was broken.

"He may," she says, kissing my shoulder. "It's possible. But I believe what we share, what the three
of us share is bigger than guilt. It's stronger. If David pulls away, we'll BOTH pull him back. I've
seen the way he looks at you when he think you're not paying attention. He cares about you. About
both of us. Loves us. I've FELT it. I know you have too."

"Yeah, I guess," I say, resuming my coding. "Unless something happens to his mom. If they hurt
her... or worse... he'll never forgive us. Or himself. Whatever happiness we brought each other will
be eclipsed by the fact that he was THAT happy while his mom was..."

I can't bring myself to voice it, but that's my root fear. My worst case scenario. If they've hurt her
in retaliation of our attack against DHS, I'll lose him. We'll lose him. I just know it.

"Do you remember when he thought Devon was dead?" she asks, laying her cheek against my
back, her fingernail still drawing little invisible patterns on my shoulder blade. "He thought his
brother had been caught in the explosion and he tried to wall himself off from me. I felt it
happening so I know why you're afraid. But I also know what happened in the van after you all got
out. I know that I was able to get over those walls and comfort him. I did it once. I can do it again.
We can do it together... if... you know... if it's bad. We won't just let him go. We won't let him pull
away. There are two of us. He can't stand against us both. You know he can't. You'll see. It's going
to be okay."

She's got a point. I try to believe it, but fear is the mind killer. It takes over in a way in which
nothing else compares.

"I hope you're right," I say.

I guess she was right before. I do feel a little better after talking. I start a script running on my code
and pull up the ring website so I can check on her parents. It's not nearly as complicated as the CIA
and I still have the code I used the first time. It only takes a few minutes. I speed up the video and
watch the last twenty-four hours. There's nothing except her mom leaving and returning with
grocery bags.

"Your parents are fine," I say. "I'm setting up an alert whenever there's activity at the front or back
door, just in case."

"Yeah, do it," she says.

When that's done, I go back to the CIA code. The bell rings with the room service notification.
Shit. I'd forgotten all about David ordering food. So much has happened since then.

"I got it," Y/N says. She hops off the bed and grabs a robe from the chair, her barefoot feet padding
softly on the carpet. God, I love her. Everything about her.

I'm as ready as I can be. I set the timer on my phone and hit the button to start the hack, my scripts
running in the background as I route and re-route my transmission, pinging off different servers
around the world.

Y/N comes back carrying a plate of bacon and I grab a piece, letting it hang out of my lips for easy
eating. I wipe my fingers on my thigh and continue coding, bypassing regressive scripts and
shutting down alert systems to buy myself enough time.

She's watching me, but I can't pull my attention away from the screen without risking the whole
thing. I code on the fly, hi-jacking the cryptoids embedded in their firewalls and subjugating their
protections so they work for me instead of against.

It's like a game. If the game were timed, borderline impossible and would likely result in real life
death if caught. The script I have running knocks out their internal alert systems and uses a SQL
injection to enslave the processing code so I can route it back into my transmission and find what I
need.

I smile, chewing on the bacon when I gain access.

"I'm in," I say.

I type a query for David's mother's name, but nothing comes up. I try searching for operational
reports from yesterday, but still nothing. Shit. They aren't documenting this. This is a ghost
operation. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I switch gears, pulling up surveillance video for any location within a hundred miles of where she
lives. It will take forever to comb through. I write a code that eliminates any video without
movement. Not the best plan, but there's no way I can review it all. That eliminates about a third.

There's still too much. I dig down a level and eighty-six any external building video and building
access prompts. That leaves about half.

Wait... maybe... I query David's name and get nothing, shaking my head. It was a long shot. I'd
known it would be. I look at my phone, a timer counting down on the main screen.

Three minutes. I have three minutes before the CIA d-base security protocols cycle and I'm kicked
out. God, I hope I can find her by then.

I scroll through the video feeds, looking for David's mom. There's over a thousand remaining. One
thousand versus three minutes. No pressure.

Y/N sets a drink next to me on the nightstand. I don't have time to drink it but mumble "Thanks,"
anyway.

"Come on. Come on. Come onnnnn," I say. "Where are you Hazel? You have to be somewhere."

My eyes start to water as I force myself to go faster, refusing to blink for fear I might miss her.

"I know you're here somewhere," I say.

Pleasssssse let me find her. My phone dings, the program issuing an alert every thirty seconds of
the last two minutes.

I can see Y/N pacing from my peripherals. She seems to have grasped the urgency, saying nothing,
presumably so she doesn't distract me.

"THERE," I say, clapping my hands in success. His mom looks okay, but I don't have time to really
LOOK. I isolate the video and begin tracing it back to the building where she's being held.

"Did you find her?" Y/N asks.

"Yes and no," I say. "I found video of her, but don't have a location yet."

My fingers fly over the keys, coding and back-coding to follow the footage to its origination point.

"All I need is an IP address," I say. "Come on baby... Talk to daddy. Tell me where they've got
her."

I am addressing my computer, of course. Never realized I did that before. I guess usually, I don't
have someone watching. Maybe it's her perception I'm reacting to. God, I hope she doesn't get
weird about it. It's not like the computer talks back.

"Got it," I say, copying the address. I hit the button to run my exit code, essentially reversing all the
steps that led to this point in a microsecond and eliminating the possibility of anything being traced
here. Hell, they might not even be able to tell anyone was here.

I look at Y/N, smiling as my phone beeps, signalling rhe countdown completion.

Barely. I barely got it.

"That... was fucking sexy," she says, sliding her arms around my neck.

I kiss her. Kiss her hard and fast, yanking her against me as the adrenaline rush washes over me.
People think hacking is boring and at times it can be. But this? Fuck, it's like I just jumped out of
an airplane.
 Y/N

The release happened much faster than I would have expected. I had thought Stéphan's hacking
skills were impressive. It was nothing compared to the next five hours. David returned followed
shortly by a girl named Giselle and and a guy named Simmons.

Giselle reminded me of Missandei from game of thrones with her hair and body shape. Even some
of her facial features. She could have played a body double if she weren't busy saving the world
with Anonymous. Simmons was the opposite. He looked like like a toad, short and kind of dumpy.
His face was always sweaty and he smelled like corn chips.

This did not detract from his genius. The literal kind of genius. Simmons and Stéphan set up next to
each other working in tandem like... well... I don't actually know what. I don't have anything else to
compare them to. It was magical. Like a symphony or the computer version of concerto... I wish I
had a better way of describing it. I was awestruck.

Within minutes there was a video loop of Hazel's kidnapping, a short segment Stéphan had been
able to get from the CIA facility and some satellite footage of her being taken inside. The loop was
released on YouTube and Twitter with the hashtag #FreeHazel and Stéphan's distorted voice
outlining the laws that were being broken by holding her for more than twenty-four hours without
charging her with a crime.

Every single person that was involved in her capture and interrogation was targeted, much like they
had done to the officers from the Department of Homeland Security. We exposed their criminal
activity and general errors in judgment. You'd be surprised how many of these government guys
snort coke & cheat on their wives in their off time.

The twitterverse organized a protest in person at the facility, showing up with hundreds of people,
megaphones and signs. And of course we broadcast everything on as many news and television
stations as we could manage. I didn't believe it would work, but we got backing from several major
political figures including Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and some big names in hollywood, Billie
Eilish and Ashton Kutcher to name a few.

We watched via satellite feed as she was released, walking from the facility under her own power.
The people on the ground ushered her home where we set up an untraceable call so David and
Devon could speak with her.

They wanted to go see her in person but decided against it. I think that's wise, especially with the
virus still killing people and however many states are between her and us. I didn't say anything
though, feeling like it wasn't my place.

Now that everyone is gone, now that it is just us in the hotel room and the crisis is over, I find
myself lost in thought. It feels... almost anticlimactic. Like there's something unsaid or still to do.

We had all eaten dinner together, sharing a lavish spread from room service before the elite
hackers had departed. After they left, David had retreated to a quiet corner of the hotel room.

"Come on," Stéphan says, pulling me to my feet. Perhaps he feels the same.

We walk across the room to where David sits at the desk, staring at his laptop. It's the security
website for his mom. There's nothing happening, but he keeps watching like he's afraid to look
away.
"I set up an alert," Stéphan says softly. "Just like I did for Y/N's parents. If anything happens we'll
know."

"I know," David says, unblinking.

"We've filed lawsuits against three branches of the government," he says. "All very public and
widely documented."

"I know," David repeats. "Look, I know we've made her as safe as it's possible to be. I know we've
taken every precaution. But I have this fear in my heart. Like something will happen and I could
stop it if I just keep watching."

"Come to bed, baby," I say, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, fingers splaying on his chest
as I kiss the back of his head. "Let us distract you."

Stéphan closes the computer.

"It's not your fault they took her," Stéphan says.

I kiss David's neck, biting the lobe if his ear and running my tongue up the outside edge.

"Come play with your toy," I say, adopting my huskiest voice. "Please."

I walk my fingers down his chest, running the edge of one fingertip along the edge of his pants.

Stéphan bends over drawing him into a kiss as David grabs my hand, pulling it lower with a growl.
I squeeze his cock through his pants, my touch light and teasing.

"I have the most delightful fantasy playing through my mind," I say. "The two of you spread out on
the bed, me moving back and forth taking first one, then the other in my mouth."

"I think that can be arranged," Stéphan says, pulling away. "What do you think, David? Shall we
give her what she wants?"

"God, yes," he says.

We retire to the bedroom, dropping clothing as we go, kissing and touching along the way. I find
my attention captured each time they kiss so that when we enter the bedroom they are both naked
and I am still mostly clothed. I had managed to take off a sock. Just one sock. Watching them
kiss... we're lucky I got that much off.

David turns to look at me as I step over the threshold.

"You have on too many clothes," he says, reaching for me.

I expect him to pull my shirt over my head but he grabs the material of my tshirt in both hands and
rips it, tearing me out of clothes with a ferociousness that instantly makes me cream.

I would like to claim that I cared about the shirt, but it'd be a lie. I'd sacrifice a thousand tshirts for
the look in his eye. He claims my mouth, kissing me so hard, a hand tangled in my hair.

I am vaguely aware of Stéphan dropping down to push my pants over my hips and lift my feet out
one by one, but concentrating on anything besides David's tongue in my mouth is nigh impossible.

I let out a little yelp of surprise when Stéphan pulls him away and pushes him onto the bed. They
crawl up the bed, arranging themselves against the pillows to look like the world's sexiest snack.
My mouth waters as I stare at them. I don't know what I did to deserve such bountiful riches. Truly.
David smiles at my speechlessness, turning to kiss Stéphan as they wait for me.

For several beats, I just watch, feeling my pussy throb. DOWN BITCH. YOU ARE IN TIMEOUT.
She's been aching from overuse all day and I'll never get a proper fucking again if I don't give her
time to recoup.

I snap out of my reverie and crawl onto the bed. David is closest and I begin there, sliding his dick
in my mouth as I reach out to stroke Stéphan. I let out a moan when Stéphan tangles his hand in my
hair, taking control, pushing me up and down David's long length.

He guides me, pushing past the edge of my throat, until David's cock fills my entire mouth and
then some. So fucking hot. I can't breathe. Can't think. I can only feel and I'm literally drippjng to
be so deliciously used.

"My turn," Stéphan says, lifting me from David and pushing me down his dick instead.

David takes my hand and wraps it around his dick, wet with spit. God. I love this. I fucking love
this. They move me back and forth between them, Stéphan controlling everything.

He's teasing David, using my mouth to do it, holding me just out of reach of David's cock. I stick
my tongue out trying to reach it, letting spit fall from my mouth.

"Fuck," David says, the visual pushing him over the edge.

He grabs my head, thrusting into my mouth as he pushes me down, god all the way down. I take
him all, his dick halfway down my throat as my nose touches his abdomen.

"You like that don't you?" he asks. I try to nod my head but I'm too full of cock to manage it. "Such
a dirty little whore. Take it... Don't you dare stop."

I couldn't even if I wanted to. Which I don't in case there's any question. He's fully embedded
himself down my throat, thrusting deep with long, sure strokes. I give myself over to it, wanting
him to use me.

"God, you don't know how fucking good that is," he says, lifting me off his dick and holding me
there, much like Stéphan had, my tongue out, spit dripping and messy.

He spits in my mouth and I swoon, my knees going weak. Fucking hell. Why is that so fucking
hot? He smears his spit across my lip before pushing me back down his dick.

Stéphan uses the opportunity to position himself behind me, licking my dripping slit as I choke and
gag on David's dick. Fuckkkkk.

My eyes roll in my head as he fingers my clit with gentle strokes. Too soft to come. Just enough to
drive me crazy.

"Please," I choke out between thrusts.

David slaps my cheek lightly in silent admonishment. I bite my lip, letting my eyes close as I savor
the sensation. I look at him through downcast lashes.

"Good toys focus," he says. "You want to be my good little toy don't you?"

"Yes," I say, breath hitching as his words caress some dark part of my brain.
"Then suck my fucking dick, bitch," he says, shoving himself deep.

I cream, my pussy clenching. Stéphan pushes his tongue into my sore, aching cunt and I want to
die. It's so sore and sooooo good. Soft strokes of his tongue are ratcheting my pleasure higher as he
continues teasing my clit with that barely there pressure.

David thrusts deep several times and I'm loving it. Such delicious abuse of my mouth. Fuck.

"Switch," David says, lifting me off his dick.

Stéphan moves back up, pulling away from me, a desperate whine issuing from my lips. I turn as
he crawls back up the bed and push him into my mouth, his dick fat and dripping with pre-cum.

David smacks my ass, and I admit, I could care less how sore I am. I need... something inside me
or I'm going to die.

I'd beg if I could, but David is shoving my head down Stéphan's dick. I moan, choking. God. Yes.
This is so fucking good. This utter abandon as they take turns, teasing each other with my mouth.

I feel like a tool. A toy to be used and abused. Enjoying the way they use me against each other.
David smacks my ass again and I moan, saliva dripping from the corners of my mouth.

"So fucking wet," he says, running a finger along my slit. Torturous as he caresses my clit with the
barest brush of his fingertips. "Such a dirty, filthy, greedy, little whore. You love this. Love being
our little fucktoy. Love being a hole for our dicks, no purpose other than to please us."

I moan my agreement as he uses my hair to push and pull me up and down Stéphan's cock, so hard
and fat in my mouth, like velvet over steel.

Stéphan has been mostly silent except for the sounds he makes, but has apparently reached his
tipping point. He grabs my head, holding onto it with both hands as he thrusts in and out of my
throat while David continues to spank my ass.

"God damn," he groans. "I fucking love your mouth. Make me come, slut. Make Daddy come
down your tight, little throat. Fuck. God, it's so good."

"My turn," David says, yanking me away.

Stéphan and I moan in unison. He'd been so close. I'd wanted his come on my tongue. I still do. I
don't have time to think about it, feeling David thrusting into my mouth.

"Don't make me tie you down," Stéphan says. "You know I'll do it."

"Use my mouth," David says. "Come down my throat while she swallows mine."

This is, apparently, acceptable. I feel the bed shift as Stéphan stands, straddling David's hips as he
braces against the wall and begins to fuck David's face.

Fuck me, this is so hot. David's hands grip my head, using my mouth as roughly as Stéphan uses
his. I'm dying. My pussy clenching, legs shaking. I'm so close. I reach between my legs, desperate,
pressing my fingers against my clit in little circles.

I groan as the first spasm of pleasure washes over me. David shoves deep into my throat, his cock
swelling as he comes.

It seems we were all close as Stéphan growls through his orgasm, hitting the wall with a fist.
"Fuck, David," he says. "God, take it. Fucking take it. Swallow it. All of it."

The lack of oxygen stretches out my orgasm, making each spasm seem to last forever. My vision
goes dark at the edges and I'm still coming, listening as Stéphan and David grunt and groan.

David releases me when my vision is reduced to the teensiest pinpoint of light. I'm barely
conscious. I pull away and draw a great lungful of air into my lungs. My body wracking with
another spasm, more intense than any of the others.

"Fuck," I exclaim, grinding my pussy against my hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

David's come is still coating my tongue and I feel... God... so deliciously used. I let myself fall
forward, my fingers dancing over my clit as I cuddle into David's thigh.

The bed shifts and Stéphan drops next to me, kissing my mouth.

"Such a good girl," he says, pulling away as my orgasm recedes, little aftershock spasms making
me clench.

"Speak for yourself," David says, breathless himself. "I didn't tell her she could come. Such a bad,
greedy whore. She should be punished..."

My eyes flutter, rolling back into my head as he yanks me across his lap and begins to spank me.

"Fuckkkkk," I moan.

He spanks me several times, my hips dancing beneath his hand as the pain mixes with spent
pleasure.

"Only good girls get to come," he says.

His finger slides inside me, making me clench my sore, swollen, achy cunt around him.

"True," Stéphan agrees, apparently only now realizing I'd come. "Shame she couldn't wait long
enough to come on my face."

"I told you she's greedy," David says.

Stéphan smacks my ass, drawing a moan from between clenched teeth as David contines to finger
fuck me.

"Please," I beg. God, I'm already close.

"Sorry princess," Stéphan says. "Bad girls get punished. "

Fuck it feels so close. My legs are still shaking from the last one, pressure building, my entire
body's senses focused on my pussy and ass.

"Please, please, please," I beg. "I need it. God, please let me fucking come."

They continue the punishment, David's fingers inside me, occassionally dipping down to tease my
slit. Stéphan spanking me, my ass red and hot.

"I'll be good," I say, attempting to grind my hips against anything to alleviate the pressure building
inside me. "I swear I'll be good."
"Come slut," he says. "Such a good little cumslut."

I fall apart, my body seeming to separate with the force of my orgasm, wave after wave pushing me
higher until I scream.

They pull me up when it's done, settling me between them with sweet kisses and soft murmurings.

Heaven. Pure, absolute heaven.

 David

I've checked my computer a hundred times. It doesn't matter that I know in the front of my brain
that mom is fine, it's that voice in the back of my brain that brings me back. Stéphan and Y/N are
sleeping. I should be sleeping, too. Instead, I'm staring at my laptop, waiting for... I don't even
know what. Nothing, I guess. Every second that nothing happens goes a little further to convincing
me that she's really okay. That I didn't fail my mom.

Stéphan stirs, his eyes finding mine when he realizes I'm sitting here with my computer. I flatten
my lips, shrugging apologetically and close the device, moving it to the nightstand. I hadn't meant
to wake him. Really. He stands and walks around the bed, lifting the covers and scooting in next to
me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"It's okay," he says, pulling me down. He turns my body so I can hold Y/N. Places my arm across
her middle and curls around my back.

I don't speak. I don't know what I would even say.

"When I was twelve, the woman who ran the home where I grew up was in a car accident," he
says, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb Y/N. "She wasn't a motherly figure per se, but the
closest I've ever known. I called her hospital room about every ten minutes, convinced that she
was going to die and I would be shipped somewhere else. I had to keep hearing that she was okay."

I nod. Yeah... I get that. Totally. I still don't speak. But I understand.

"I imagine," he continues. "That it's so much worse with an actual mom."

"Yeah," I whisper. "I don't even know how to explain it."

"You don't have to," Stéphan says, squeezing me a little. "We don't have to talk about it. I just
wanted you to know I'm here. That I understand."

For several minutes, neither of us speak.

"I just don't know what I would do if something happened to her," I say, voicing the thought that's
been circling my mind over and over. "Something that was maybe my fault for going to war with
the government."

Stéphan lays his forehead against my back.

"Anonymous isn't like the mob," he says, softly. "You can stop. If you want to, you can stop."

"I know," I say. "I didn't mean it like that. I love working with you. Love the work we do. I'm
just... I don't know... I'm just worried about her."

"I'm worried about her too," he says. "And Y/N's parents. Hell, the whole country at this point. The
more I worry, the more reason I have to keep fighting. We shouldn't be afraid of our own
government. We shouldn't be sitting here in the dark trying to come up with plans and back-up
plans and back-up back-ups to keep your family safe or hers. The more I think about it the angrier I
become. I want to dismantle the whole thing. Tear it down and start over. Write a new constitution.
If you knew what I really think... well... It isn't good."

"Tell me," I say.

"No," he responds.

"Oh come on," I say. "Now you have to."

He sighs, saying nothing for what seems like forever.

"Sometimes," he says, pausing, not for dramatic effect, but rather because he's afraid to continue.
Afraid I'll judge him or think less of him. "Sometimes... I think it's time for an actual war. I'm so
fucking tired of change happening at a snail pace while Americans suffer and old, racist, white men
make the decisions that keeps outdated, inundated practices in place. Because that's what they're
comfortable with and how they make money off of the blood, sweat and tears of people they
couldn't care less about. It's not just black people. Hispanics in cages. Lost children by the
thousands. Native Americans. Muslims. Chinese. Hell, LGTBQ+. I'm sick of how all of them are
treated. It makes me... ashamed, honestly... to be white. I don't know how we are still having the
same conversation they were having fifty years ago. And since that time... what's really changed?
Barely anything. I'm... losing faith in the system. It's too well designed to keep people oppressed."

"You thought that would bother me?" I ask, genuinely surprised.

"Well... yeah," he says. "War is ugly. Innocent people die. Always. You probably know that better
than me. I just figured... I guess I assumed you would be against it."

"Innocent people are dying right now," I say. "At some point, we have to rise up and force change,
through whatever means necessary. I was in the military. I don't consider myself particularly
patriotic, but I fought for this country. For it's ideals. Ideals that have been ignored, constitutional
rights that have been stripped away. It's like somewhere along the way, Americans lost their
humanity. There is no justice. And maybe there never was. I don't think it suddenly got worse
when Trump was elected. People just stopped hiding what has been there all along. I'd fight to end
it. To start over and build something where people really had all the freedoms Americans are
convinced exist."

"Me too," Y/N says sleepily.

Shit. I guess we woke her up.

"Shhh," I say, kissing the back of her head. "Go back to sleep, baby. I'm sorry we woke you up."

"It's okay," she says, yawning. She turns to face me, resting her head on my arm. "You're worried
about your mom. But if you two are going to plot to overthrow the government, then I want to be in
on it. I don't want to sleep through it. I'm not as tech savvy as you two. But I'm here. I'm part of
this. I WANT to be a part of it, anyway. I'd fight."

"We aren't plotting to overthrow the government," Stéphan says. "Just thinking about it. I don't
want to be sitting around in fifty years debating these same issues. I want to make a difference."

"You do," she says. "You both do. I admit, I hadn't known how much of a difference until I got
shot and all of this happened with you guys, but you have to know how important it is, what you're
doing."

"It will all be for nothing if we don't make any real changes," Stéphan says.

"Change IS happening," she says. "People are waking up. People are standing up. They're already
fighting. Look at me. Six months ago, I lived in a bubble of naivete. I was blind to the problems
that didn't affect me. Not anymore. And it's not just me. There are millions of people like me,
seeing what's happening and joining in the fight against it."
I look down at Y/N, kissing her forehead. She's so cute. So sweet.

"I love you," I say.

"I love you too," she says, snuggling closer against my chest.

The conversation passes into a comfortable silence. My eyes grow heavy, lulled to sleep by her soft
breaths against my chest and Stéphan's solid warmth behind me. My last coherent thought is how
lucky I am. That if she hadn't gotten herself shot, I wouldn't have any of this.

**************

I wake to the smell of coffee and bacon. Someone had ordered food. Y/N is sitting cross-legged on
the bed, a sheet pulled over her lap with a plate of waffles. She smiles at me.

"Morning sleepyhead," she says, holding a bite out to me. I open my mouth to take it, but a drop of
syrup lands on my chin.

She giggles and leans forward, licking it then moving up to kiss my mouth. A chaste kiss, sweet
and full of affection.

"Sorry," she says.

I stretch, chewing.

"Where's Stéphan?" I ask, reaching over to steal another bite.

"Shower," she mumbles around a mouthful, covering her hand with her mouth. "We didn't think
you were ever going to wake up."

"I guess I needed the sleep," I say, yawning. "I usually am up at the crack of dawn."

"It's all the sex," she says, winking at me. "Your body's not used to it."

"What's your excuse then?" I ask, taking the piece of bacon she holds out.

"Women are naturally more adaptable," she says. "Duh."

"Oh really," I say, arching an eyebrow. "Maybe I should give you something to adapt to then."

She shakes her head at me, inching away.

"Don't even think about it," she says. "I still haven't recovered from the last time I adapted." She
points between her legs. "She's closed for renovation for at least a day or two."

I laugh. I can't help it.

"You'd think with all the screwing, renovations would be complete by now," I say.

She rolls her eyes.

"That was just the demo," she says, taking a sip of coffee.

"Sooo, just to be clear," I say, clearing my throat. "You're saying we demolished your pussy."

I puff out my chest, buffing my nails on my shoulder.

"Mmmhmmm," she says, chewing another bite of waffle, a twinkle in her eye.

"I can live with that," I say, reaching for another piece of bacon off her plate.

She pulls the plate away, batting at my hand.

"There's more food over there," she says, nodding towards the cart at the edge of the bed. "Get
your own. Renovation is hungry work."

I fake a scowl, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yours tastes better," I say.

"Eat more pineapple," she says. "Although I think mine would still taste better. I'm pretty
delicious."

I laugh again. She's killing me with the cuteness this morning. All sassy and flirty. I don't know
that I've seen her like this before. Glimpses, but that's it.

"Fine," I say, pretending to be angry. "You could at least make me a plate or something."

She rolls her eyes again.

"I'm sorry," she says, her brow pinched in mock consternation. "I left my 1950's house-wife apron
at the cleaners."

"You wound me," I say, holding my chest and falling back against the headboard. "I was willing to
trade. We could barter or something. What do you want in exchange?"

"Oh no you don't," she says. "The last time I made a deal with you it took me DAYS to collect.
Besides... RENOVATIONS... remember."

"You're killing me woman," I say, standing and walking the three steps it takes to reach the cart. I
lift one of the lids and find scrambled eggs and sausage. Another has crepes in what appears to be
lingon berry sauce. A third has bacon and hashbrowns. The last has fresh fruit. I grab a bite of
pineapple, making eye contact as I eat it. "For later," I say innocently. "You know... just in case."

"I was kidding, you know," she says, smiling. "Yours doesn't taste bad."

I shake my head, making myself a plate with a little from each dish. I walk back to the bed, and
balance my plate on a pillow across my lap.

"I'd still have rather had waffles," I say, picking up the bacon and taking a bite.

"That's what you get for sleeping in," she says haughtily. "Early bird catches the worm and all
that."

I lift the pillow, pretending to look at my dick.

"It's bigger than a worm," I tease.

"Awww," she says. "Does someone need his ego stroked? Okay... it's bigger than a worm."

"It's not my ego I'm trying to get stroked," I say, spearing a piece of cantaloupe.

"You cannot be horny," she says, reaching for her coffee. "We've had enough sex to last a month at
least."

"Maybe," I admit. "If you're like an old, married couple."

She covers her mouth with her hand, attempting to stifle a laugh that would have no doubt sprayed
coffee all over the bed. I smile. I like making her laugh.

"Be honest," she says when she gets her facial expressions under control. "Your ass isn't still sore?
Cuz mine feels like the two of you fucked me with razor blades or something."

"I should have been more gentle," I admit, blushing. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not complaining," she says, hurriedly. "I'm just saying... RENOVATIONS."

"So like... you're putting in a new kitchen?" I ask casually. "What new features come with this
renovation?"

She rolls her eyes and I wonder if I ever thought it was cute before. On her... adorable.

"No," she says, huffing. "Not a new kitchen. This is more like the dudes in Oklahoma or Kansas
that rebuild their trailer after a tornado." She adopts a southern accent. "We ain't leaving. We're
gonna rebuild. Just like the last time. And the time before that."

"What are we building?" Stéphan asks, the bathroom door swinging open in a cloud of steam.

"My vag," she says, chewing a bite of waffles. "I was telling David that my girl parts are closed for
renovations."

"And your ass," David says. "Don't forget about your ass. That's being renovated too."

"I see," Stéphan says. "Well then we'll have to occupy ourselves some other way. You guys up for
a bike ride maybe? We could rent city bikes."

Y/N looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I literally don't have any clothes," she says. "Somebody tore up the only shirt I had."

"Shopping then?" Stéphan asks. "You can borrow one of my shirts and we'll go get you some new
clothes. I had planned on it anyway at some point."

"You can't just plan to take me shopping," she says.

"Why not?" Stéphan asks. "I want to buy you clothes. You need clothes. This isn't like the yacht
thing."

She cocks her head, considering.

"I guess," she says. "But no fancy places. I want to go to Target."

Stéphan stands next to the breakfast cart and begins to eat a crepe. He smirks.

"You act like I'm planning to drag you off to the DC equivalent of Rodéo Drive," he says. "I
wouldn't do that unless you wanted me to."

"Well I don't," she says. "I don't think I can even afford to breathe the air on Rodéo Drive."
"Fine," he says. "We'll go to target after breakfast."

She claps her hands, excitedly.

"Wait," she says, looking at him side-eyed. "No movie montage things where I try on a hundred
outfits and come out of the dressing room after each one so you guys can see."

"Of course not," he says. "Namely because all the dressing rooms are closed. But you're welcome
to model everything when we get back.

This time she rolls her eyes so hard I'm afraid she's going to hurt herself.

"That will take away all the surprises," she says.

"Indeed it might," I respond. "Come on. Give daddy a little show."

"I don't need new clothes for that," she says. "But I repeat. FOR THE LAST TIME...
RENOVATIONS."

I sigh, pouting. Stupid renovations.

 Stéphan

"Okay," I say, pushing the cart towards the pharmacy section. "Before we look at clothes, lets get
some basic essentials. Shampoo. Conditioner. Is there a bodywash you like?"

"I knew it," Y/N says, turning on me with an amused scowl. "You're getting off on this. Admit it."

I shrug. "Maybe a little. Come on baby. Indulge me. You need this stuff. Please?"

She rolls her eyes.

"You're a mess," she says, linking her arm with mine, wrapping the other around David's waist.
"But I'll let you two pick the bodywash, since you seem so keen on it."

I push the cart down the aisle and we stop, picking up random bottles and smelling them.

"What about this one?" David asks, holding the bottle out to me. "Orange hibiscus."

"I don't think that I've ever smelled a hibiscus flower in real life," Y/N says. "You know. I bet it
doesn't even smell like that. They're almost all made with artificial scents."

"I don't care," I say. "I'm just imagining the way it will smell on your skin."

"Stahhhhp," she says, smacking me on the shoulder. "Okay, fine. But nothing too sweet. Sweet pea
anything reminds me of middle school."

"Check," David says. "No sweet pea."

"The orange hibiscus is okay," I say. "But I really like this one. What do you think?"

"Moonlit pear?" David says, bending down to smell the open bottle. "What's the difference
between a regular pear and a moonlit pear?"

"A moonlit pear is dirtier," I say. "She's scandalous, maybe a few slits in her skin, showing off her
meaty flesh, trying to entice a moonlit apple?"

"Oh my god you're ridiculous," Y/N says, shoving me with a roll of her eyes.

"No, but really," David says. "What's the difference?"

"I have no idea," she says, taking the bottle and smelling it. "But this is fine."

"But we haven't smelled them all," David says.

"That will take forever," Y/N says. "And I still need a razor and some deodorant. Stuff for my
hair."

David's shoulders slump and he scuffs his foot on the floor.

"You said we get to pick," he says.

I can't help but smile. He looks so adorably boyish.

"I thought guys didn't like shopping," Y/N says. "Isn't that like a thing?"
"We haven't gone anywhere but protests, jail and the hotel," David says. "Gotta make the most out
of this."

"You really want to smell them all?" she asks, like she already knows she lost.

"Fair is fair," he says, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling triumphantly.

"Fine," she says, her mouth turned up in a grin. "I'm going to go get the other things I need. You
two can play with body wash."

David and I continue smelling the bottles, cracking jokes and playing around. He seems... better...
I'd been so worried but he seems relaxed and dare I say, carefree? I slide my arm around his waist,
giving him a quick squeeze.

Y/N returns a few minutes later, dumping an armful of things into the cart.

"Well?" she asks. "Did you decide? We going with the skanky pear or what?"

"Actually, I think we decided on Vanilla Honey," David says, holding out a bottle for her to smell.
"Smells good enough to eat."

She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. It's fucking adorable.

"I don't think you guys need any help with um... eating," she says, a slight blush in her cheeks.
"But okay. Vanilla Honey it is."

"What else did you get?" David asks.

"The usual," she says, shrugging. "Shaving gel, a razor, deodorant, shampoo and conditioner, a
face wash and moisturizer."

"No face masks?" David asks.

"I'm not wearing a face mask around you guys," she says. "This isn't a sleepover. We're not
painting each other's nails and shit."

"Oooh wait," I say. "That could be fun."

"You're joking," she says. "You are not wearing a face mask. OR nail polish. Stop teasing."

"I mean... I haven't ever done anything like that before," I say, shrugging. "But... we've got to do
SOMETHING to keep from ahem... devouring you and your Vanilla Honey ass. We could do a spa
day. Watch cheesy movies. Get chinese take-out."

David looks at me, a twinkle in his eye.

"You might be a little adorable with black fingernail polish," he says.

"Wait...," Y/N says. "You guys are serious?"

"Why not?" David asks, shrugging.

"I don't know," she says, blushing. "I just never expected it would be something you'd want to do. I
don't... Um... I don't know what to say."

"So we're agreed?" I ask. "Spa day with face masks and the whole nine?"
She purses her lips, grinning.

"I guess, yeah," she says. "I mean... you really want to? You're not just doing this because you
think I'm like missing my girlfriends or something? Because I don't do this type of shit with them
usually."

"Are you implying we don't take care of our skin?" I ask. "That we're too masculine to be caught
dead wearing a face mask?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Nothing like that. I just... it doesn't matter. It sounds fun."

"What about board games?" David asks. "Scrabble? Monopoly? Maybe some cards? We could
play rummy or three-person spades."

"What the fuck is three-person spades?" Y/N asks.

"It's just like regular spades," he says. "But with three people. I learned to play in the army."

Y/N scrunches up her face, saying nothing.

"Look, we NEED distractions," I say. "It's gonna be hard enough as it is. Pun intended."

"You're determined to spend all the money," she says. "We've barely started and this is already
almost a hundred dollars."

"We spend what we spend," I say. "I'm not worried about it. Please don't freak out. Let's just get
what we get and not worry about it. Okay? Please, baby."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Fine," she says, throwing up her arms. "I give up. Go nuts."

David literally jumps, throwing his fist in the sky. He picks her up and spins her around.

"This is gonna be fun," he says. "You'll see... I'm a beast at Scrabble."

"I don't know," she says, giggling as he sets her down. "I think I can take you. Both of you."

"You already did," I whisper, kissing the side of her head.

"Shush your face," she says, leaning into me. "You know what I mean."

"Fancy a wager?" David asks.

"Don't even think about it," she says, shaking a finger at him. "Just a nice friendly game."

"Mm-hmm," David says, winking. "Sure."

"No, really," she says. "I mean it. Anyway, so then we need more stuff if we're really going to do
this. We need nail polish, and remover, some cotton balls and q-tips."

We move to that section and she starts throwing things into the cart. I can't help but grin. She
seems genuinely excited. It's adorable and sweet. We get some games, ruling out Monopoly after
an impassioned discussion. We get jenga and scrabble, a 6-in-1 board with chess and checkers and
some others I don't know how to play. And a deck of cards.
We make our way to the underwear section, picking out a variety of bras and panties, making Y/N
blush as we hold out options.

"I can pick myself guys," she whispers, looking around like she's embarrassed.

"Yeah, but this is so much more fun," David says. "Look at this one. It's so pretty and lacy."

"Go away," she whispers, her cheeks bright red as an older lady looks over at us. "Don't you need
anything? Surely there's something in the men's section for you to buy."

"Oh just get it," the lady says. "If I had that tall drink of water asking me to buy it I would in a
heartbeat."

Y/N covers her face with her hands.

"See?" David asks. "Even she agrees."

"You bet your fine ass I do," she says, giving him a wink.

"Oh my god," Y/N says, turning away. "Thank you ma'am. I'll take it under advisement."

"You need some little panties like this, too," she says holding out a lacy thong to Y/N. "Men love
them. Trust me."

"Okay, okay," she says, grabbing the underwear and tossing them into the cart. "Thank you. I think
I got it from here. Go on about your shopping."
 Y/N

I slide the card against the reader to unlock the door and hold it open for the guys. They'd refused
to let me carry anything which was ridiculous, of course. I'm perfectly capable, but they'd refused,
saying there were two of them and they didn't mind. There are so many bags. I can't believe how
much we bought.

I'd had a mini panic attack when the clerk told me the total, but I'd managed to pull out the credit
card and insert it in the chip reader. The contents of the cart had come to over seven hundred
dollars. The only time in my entire life that I've ever spent that much money at one time was when
I purchased my books for school. At least it hadn't ALL been for me.

Stéphan begins pulling things out of the bags, arranging them on the table. I reach for my shampoo,
intending to put it away along with my other toiletries, but Stéphan swats at my hand. I jerk out of
reach.

"So impatient," he says. "Just wait until we get it all out of the bags. No point in making multiple
trips."

"Okay, nazi," I say sardonically, rolling my eyes. "Wait a minute. STOP! STEP AWAY FROM
THE BAGS. YOU'RE TRYING TO PEAK AT THE UNDERWEAR I BOUGHT, YOU SNEAKY
BASTARD."

I throw myself bodily in front of him, blocking the table like a spastic basketball player.

"I mean it," I say, laughing. "Back UP!"

"Okay, okay, relax," Stéphan says, taking a step back, hands raised in surrender. "You can't blame
a guy for trying."

I turn, rifling through the bags until I find the one with the undies. I look around, my eyes coming
to rest on the dresser.

"I can and I do," I say, lifting my chin hautily. "Keep it up and I'll never wear them for you."

I walk across the room, slipping the bag into the top dresser drawer.

"You don't mean it," Stephan says. "You want to wear it for us."

"Whether I want to or not is irrelevant," I say, stepping back to the table. "If you keep cheating, I
won't. Period."

I grab a bag and begin pulling things out, separating them on the table. David comes up behind me,
wrapping his arms around my chest. I lean back against him, making a little sound of pleasure.
These casual displays of affection get me every time. It's like my heart is filling up every time we
touch, growing so full.

"I just want to put it on record that I didn't look," he says, his voice smug.

I turn in his arms, rising up on my tip toes to kiss his mouth. A soft, lingering kiss, little swipes of
my tongue.

"Aww, come on," Stéphan says. "That's not fair."

I turn to look at him, my hands still holding tight to David's shoulders.

"Good boys get kisses," I say. "You were bad, so you don't."

"If I weren't desperately trying to let you recover from all the sex we've already had," Stéphan says,
stepping closer. "I'd show you how bad I can be."

"Promises, promises," I say, looing up at him through my lashes. "I'll hold you to that."

"Princess, you won't have to," Stéphan says, his eyes closing as he bites his lip, no doubt imagining
all the 'bad' things he wants to do to me. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. When he
opens his eyes, they are dark with desire. My body responds, a thrill shooting all the way to my
toes. I love that. Love our chemistry. Love the way either one of them can just look at me and
garner a response. "So ummm... face masks?"

I watch him fight for control, the effort visible. At least he has some. I don't think I could say 'no' to
either of my boyfriends. Not really. Even with my body sore and bruised, I want them.

"Yeah, okay," I say. These are the words on my lips, but I don't mean them. I could give a flying
fuck about face masks right now. Not with David's arms around me and the look in Stéphan's eyes.
I could literally choke on the sexual tension.

"Let's put the rest of this stuff away," he says, swallowing hard as he looks away.

"That's a good idea," David says, releasing me.

With the connection broken between the three of us, I can breathe again. God, it's crazy. I still
haven't adjusted to how they affect me. I don't know that I ever will. Or if I even want to. It's so
intense.

We put everything away that we aren't using. Toiletries go in the bathroom. The clothes get hung in
the closet. Games and whatnot are arranged on a small table against the wall under a mirror in the
dining area. As distractions go, it's not bad.

"Okay," I say, pulling my shirt over my head. "So first things first, change out of your clothes. Use
the hotel robes. They'll be perfect."

I slip my pants off letting them pool at my feet. David clears his throat, drawing my eyes up to his.
He's staring at me, biting his lip. I look at Stéphan and find him similarly stuck. They want me.
God. I love that. I've never felt prettier or sexier than standing in front of them in my bra and
panties with that look in their eyes.

Stéphan snaps out of it first, shaking his head.

"We're never gonna make it two days," David says, his voice sounding far away.

I smile, rolling my eyes.

"Be good," I say, even though that's the last thing I want. I remember making them lose control and
it had been... God... the best thing in the entire world. I mentally evaluate my body, cataloging my
aches and bruises. It's too soon. I wish it wasn't, but it's too fucking soon. "Good things come to
those who wait."

"It's so hard," David says.

I fight the impulse but it doesn't last.

"That's what she said," I say, quoting The Office.

David's mouth twitches and I turn away, grabbing the robe nearby. I shrug into it, cinching it
around my waist. When I turn back he's smiling.

"Okay," he says. "I'll be good."

Stéphan had used the seconds my back was turned to produce the other two robes, handing one to
David and laying his on the table. I bend down and pick up my clothes, ignoring them as they strip
out of their clothes. There's zero chance of me being able to control my eyes or anything else if I
watch them. I keep my eyes glued to the floor as I pick up their clothes and carry everything over to
the closet, laying it in a heap.

When I look back, my men are standing together, watching me with smiles on their faces. As if
they knew I was having a hard time concentrating or controlling myself around them.

"What?" I ask, shrugging with a casual nonchalance.

"You're cute," Stéphan says. "You're so cute."

"Yeah, yeah," I say, smirking despite my best intentions. "Come on. We'll need the bathroom
mirror."

I grab the face mask off the table as I go.

"Okay," I begin, leaning against the edge of the tub when we are all standing inside the bathroom.
"There are several avenues of thought regarding the best way to begin. You guys both shaved this
morning, so you're good on that front. Some people just apply the mask. But I, personally, like to
wash my face first. I feel like it opens up my pores so the mask can penetrate deep. That is uh... in
your pores... and on your face... like uh... penetrate deep into your skin... Shit."

I feel the blush rising up my chest as my words echo in my brain. Penetrate deep? I couldn't have
chosen a better description? Something less ridiculous? I pinch my lips closed, fighting the
embarrassed smile I know is coming. With a shake of my head, I give in.

"I'm sorry," I say. "My sense of humor is basically that of a twelve-year-old boy. Penetrate deep."

I start to laugh, holding out the bottle of face mask and mimicking a person with it.

"Like 'ooh, baby'," I snort laugh, the horribly bad french accent cracking me up before I can even
finish the joke. "'I love it when you let me go deep. Ooh la la. Je suis excitée.'"

I lose it, clutching at my sides and laughing until tears leak from my eyes. I somehow lose my
balance, but Stéphan catches me easily before I fall.

"You are a goofball," he says, grabbing me around my middle and setting me to right.

I hold up the tube of cream, still laughing borderline hysterical.

"Take this," I say, pulling out of his arms, putting the tube in his hand. I wipe my eyes and shake
my head, attempting to pull myself together.

"You good?" Stéphan asks.

"Yeah, yeah," I say, stretching out my jaw. "Totally. I think it was all the umm... the sexual
tension. I'm fine. I'm good. Just ignore me."

"We couldn't if we wanted to," David says, chuckling. "You're fucking adorable."

"Okay," Stéphan says. "So we wash our face so the mask will... penetrate. Got it."

If I didn't know better, I'd swear he said it that way on purpose just to keep me going. Shit, maybe
he did. If that was his goal, I don't disappoint, immediately descending in a fit of giggles. This time
they both laugh with me and the more we laugh, the harder I do. Until I'm laughing at myself more
than anything else.

"Stahhhhp," I whine, my sides aching. "We're never gonna finish at this rate."

"Okay, okay," Stéphan says. "Wash your face. I'll stop teasing you."

I step towards the counter and turn the water on, splashing a couple of handfuls on my face. Both
of the men repeat my actions at the other sink, sharing it in a way that makes me smile. We wash
our faces, using my cleanser and flicking water at each other. It is fun and playful. Altogether
adorable.

"I feel prettier already," David says, drying off his face with a handtowel.

"As if you need it," Stéphan jokes.

David shoots him a whithering glare, but can't hold it, the corners of his mouth turning up in a grin.

"Like you don't know you're the pretty one," he says, bumping his shoulder into Stéphan.

"You're both pretty," I say, squirting a generous amount of mask into my palm. "I tend to use
adjectives like sexy or handsome or fuck me against the wall hot. But if you want to be pretty, trust
me... You BOTH are."

I give them the bottle and begin applying the mask to my face in much the same way that I do my
cleanser, explaining as I go that you need a thick coating so it peels off cleanly when it dries.

"Not like that," Stéphan says. "You're making it all patchy. Here let me help."

I watch as Stéphan fixes David's ineffectual attempt at application, smiling to myself. They really
are fucking adorable. God, I love them so much. I can't believe we're doing this together.

"Drop your chin down to stretch the skin under your nose," I say.

David follows my instruction so Stéphan can apply it around his mouth.

"It smells funny," David says.

"Stop talking," Stéphan says. "You're gonna mess it up."

I laugh. I can't help it.

"You guys are literally the cutest," I say, rinsing my hands and drying them on a towel. "I wish I
had a video of this so I could re-watch it over and over whenever I'm sad."

"Who needs a video when you have us in real life?" Stéphan asks. "This doesn't have to be a one
time thing. We could make it a habit. I kinda like it."
"Really?" I ask, my face splitting in a wide grin. "I thought you guys were just humoring me."

"Maybe a little at first," he says. "But... like I said... I kinda like it. Okay, David. You're done.

Stéphan drops his hands, turning back to the mirror.

"Do you want me to do yours?" David asks.

"Absolutely not," Stéphan responds, applying the mask to his own face. "You need practice."

"How am I gonna get practice if you always end up doing mine?" David asks.

Stéphan sighs, his shoulders dropping. David waits, looking at him with a hopeful look in his eyes.
I swear to god, my heart is fucking melting watching them.

"Fine," Stéphan says, taking David's hand and smearing the remaining mask into it. "But look at
Y/N's face while you're doing it. It should look like that."

"How did you get so good at it?" David asks while he applies the mask to Stéphan's face.

"I don't know," Stéphan says. "Fingerpainting at the group home maybe? Who knows."

"Oh my god," I say. "I can't take it. I'd die for a picture of that. It sounds so sweet."

Stéphan shrugs, his body language changing slightly. I think I touched a nerve. Damn.

"We didn't even get school pictures," he says. "I don't have any of me from when I was a kid. A
few years ago, I pulled a few mug shots off the internet from when I was a teenager, but that's
about it."

I step forward, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I'm sorry baby," I say. "We can take some. We can take them all the time."

"It's cool," he say. "I'm okay. I just don't have any pictures of myself. It's not a big deal."

David leans down, pressing his lips to Stéphan in a chaste kiss.

"Pictures are an acknowledgement that a moment is worth remembering," David says. "I'm so sorry
that you don't have any from your childhood, because you are worth remembering. I want to
remember all our moments."

My eyes brim with tears. Damn. I felt that all the way in my soul. It was so beautifully said. I'm
almost afraid to speak. I don't want to ruin such a perfect moment.

"He's right," I say, blinking away my tears. "I'll be right back. I'm getting my phone."

I step past them, squeezing them both with a quick hug. I want to linger, but I'm afraid I will full on
start to cry and I don't want to make this about me. I run to the other room and grab my phone.

When I return, the mood has lightened considerably. I don't know what they talked about while I
was gone, but Stéphan seems his usual self and David is once again attempting to apply the mask. I
pull up the camera on my phone and take a few pictures of them, candid shots capturing the
process and one of Stéphan with his head thrown back in laughter after he looks in the mirror at the
mess David's made on his face.
I take over the mask application and give David my phone after he washes his hands. Stéphan
drops to his knees in front of me to make it easier. Like David, I'm unable to resist, bending down
to give him a soft kiss, careful not to smear the mask around our mouths. I pull away and grab the
tube, squirting a dollop into my palm.

"I love you guys," Stéphan says as I fill in the bare spots around his face. "I know I've said it
already, but I want you to know how much I mean it. You guys are... I don't know... I just love
you."

"We love you too," David and I respond in unison.

 David

"So how long does it take to dry?" I ask as we pad out of the bathroom with barefoot feet, sinking
into the plush carpet.

"About twenty minutes," Y/N says. "Should we order food now or do you guys want to wait."

"Let's order it now," Stéphan says. "I'm starving. Then we can paint nails while we wait. Dibs on
your toes."

"Wait," Y/N says. "You two are going to paint MY nails?"

"Yeah," he says. "Why not?"

"Uhhh," she says. "Have you ever painted nails?"

"Nope," Stéphan says. "But what's the worst that could happen? If we mess it all up, we can just
take it off and start over."

"Truuuuuueeee," she says. "But how are we gonna use chopsticks with wet nails? I'll tell you. We
can't. We'll order food, then eat, THEN we can paint nails."

"Makes sense to me," I say. "So what are we going to do until the food comes?"

Y/N chews her bottom lip.

"What?" I ask.

"Do you guys maybe wanna watch TV?" she asks.

"Sure," Stéphan says. "What do you like to watch?"

She clasps her hands behind her back nervously. I can't help but smile. I want to pick her up and
kiss her. I don't know why her shy-girl routine is so cute, but it's fucking adorable. She's blushing.
Why is she so nervous?

"Criminal Minds?" she says, looking anywhere but at us. "That's what I was bingeing before the
protests. I um... well I... I'm kind of obsessed with Spencer Reid. And I like crime dramas."

"Spencer Reid, huh," I say. "That's our competition?"

"How obsessed are we talking?" Stéphan asks.

Y/N chews her lip.

"Oh god," she says. "This is so embarrassing. We can watch something else. Forget I mentioned
it."

"That's boring," I say.

"Just tell us," Stéphan says. "It's not like we'll be mad."

She hides her face with her hands and it's somehow more cute with her ears and face turning red.

"I ummm...," she begins. "I may have... hypothetically... created a few edits on TikTok."
"Did you know about this?" Stéphan asks me.

I shake my head. I should have. She's nineteen. Of course she has a TikTok. But I didn't think about
it at all when I was vetting her. Not that I would expect to find anything there that would change
anything.

"I can find it," I say, turning back to Y/N. "Or you can just tell us."

"Come on, guys," she whines. "Please don't look. I'm begging. It's... god, it's so embarrassing."

"Oh now you have to tell us," I say.

"David, please," she says, her eyes imploring.

"If it makes you feel any better," I say. "I've done some really embarrassing things too."

"Like what?" she asks.

"I was fourteen when Transformers came out," I say. "And I was obsessed with Megan Fox. I had
pictures of her all over my room. Along with Bumblebee. Like... I wallpapered the room with
posters of her and little cutouts from magazines. It was almost like a shrine. I mean... like... I
wouldn't even have other kids over because I didn't want them to see."

"I mean... she's hot, for sure," Y/N says. "I can understand a teenage boy obsessing over her."

"I don't think you understand," I say. "I was REALLY obsessed."

Stéphan hasn't said anything and I wonder what he thinks about my confession.

"Like... how obsessed?" Y/N asks, feigning casualness.

"I used to glue pictures of my face over Shia Ladouchebag's when they would be photographed
together," I say. "Then she started dating that Brian Austin Green dude. I may have had a dart
board with his picture on it. Hypothetically."

She laughs, the sound almost musical.

"Okay," she says. "You were obsessed... I... It's not just the Spencer Reid edits. There are other
things on my TikTok... I just... fuck it. Don't judge me. My username is..."

She sighs.

"It's..."

She takes a deep breath.

"It's... stananonymousforever," she says, the words coming quickly, almost too quickly to decipher.
"Look, I know it's weird. I swear I'm not some creepy stalker person. I never, ever, in a million
years thought I'd be here with two people from Anonymous. And it's not like some fan-girl thing. I
mean, maybe at first. But I love you. I love both of you. And god... I just wish a hole would open
up in the floor and swallow me."

"Forever?" Stéphan asks, walking towards her, his gait predatory. I find myself, similarly inclined.
"You stan Anonymous forever?"

"So Spencer Reid isn't REALLY competition," I say, walking towards her. "More of a temporary
fixation."

Y/N backs away, almost like she's scared, but not quite.

"Umm, right," she says, swallowing. "Uh... yeah. So how 'bout that Chinese."

"Fuck the Chinese," Stéphan growls. "I'm eating something else."

"But your facemask," Y/N says stepping around the table to put it between us.

"Fuck that too," Stéphan says.

He blocks one side. I block the other, both of us moving forward.

"Guys, stop," Y/N says, holding out her hand. "I mean it."

We stop. I can't speak for Stéphan but I feel like a spring, my energy coiling inside ready to
explode. I want her. Want to kiss her and bite her. Want to taste her. My dick flexes. And yes. I
want to fuck her. There's just something awesome about knowing that we've been in her mind since
before we ever even met.

"As much as...," she swallows. "As much as I want all of this," she gestures to us. "I can't take it.
Not yet. I want to. God, the way you two are looking at me is... fuck. But I can't. I just can't. I'm so
sore inside. Even my throat is sore."

"I don't have to fuck you," Stéphan growls. "I just want to taste you. Please."

She shakes her head.

"That wouldn't be fair," she says. "I'm not that selfish. I'm not going to let you... pleasure me...
when you can't..."

"I HAVE A HAND," he says, his voice loud, almost yelling. He takes a breath, attempting to calm
himself. "I know how to use it. I'll live."

He takes a step towards Y/N.

"Stéphan, no," Y/N says. "We're all in timeout. That means me too."

"We can take care of each other," I say. "Just... be with us."

"God, you think I don't want to?" she asks, throwing up her hands and starting to pace. "The minute
either of you touch me, my body will forget. I'll forget about the pain, and even if you make me
come twenty times, it won't feel finished unless you fuck me. I already want it. You think I won't
beg for it after you've pumped me full of endorphins? Think I won't promise I'm fine, that I can
take it. And even if you have the strength of will to ignore my pleas, I'll be aching for it. I know
what it's like to go to sleep aching to have you inside me. I don't want to do that tonight. Please,
let's just... let's just get the chinese and play some cards or paint our nails or whatever. I'm sorry. I
want to. I really, really do. You have no idea how hard it is to say no."

Stéphan takes a deep breath, nodding his head a little as he bites his lip.

"You're right," he says. "I'm sorry. I just..." he clenches his hand into a fist and unclenches it,
stretching his fingers wide. "Nevermind. You can say no. Of course you can. I'm sorry. I don't
mean to be like this. Just... god... hearing it... forever. Like... I know when you made the account
you didn't even know us. But... forever... it just... it really hit me."
I walk over to him, pulling him into a hug.

"I stan forever too," I whisper. "We're not going anywhere."

Y/N steps closer, wrapping her arms around both of us. I will my dick to stop throbbing. The
energy that had felt coiled inside me has dissipated. But my dick's still hard. It will go away
eventually, I guess.

"Sooo... Chinese?" Stéphan asks, pulling away. He runs a hand down his face. "There's bound to
be a menu around here somewhere. Or I can call down for one from the concierge."

"There's a book of menus on the desk," I say. "I'll get it."

"I really am sorry," Stéphan says, pulling Y/N into his arms. "You can always say no. Always. No
matter what. For any reason."

"It's not like I wanted to," she says.

"Sooooo...," Stéphan says. "I'm assuming there are anonymous edits too?"

"A few...," she says, chuckling.

"Only a few?" he asks.

"Hundred," she responds.

"So that first day," he says. "When I fucked you in the mask... that was like a fantasy?"

"Something like that," she says. "It was all very surreal. I mean... The mask. We'd just escaped a
bombing. I'd been shot. You doctored on me. It was everything. Honestly, that first night feels like
a dream. It almost doesn't feel real. Not like this. Not like now."

"Do you want me to wear it again?" he asks. "Use the voice modulator, maybe? Not today,
obviously. But is it still a fantasy?"

"I mean... maybe one day," she says. "But right now... I'm enjoying you. I want to be with you. Not
your masked alter-ego. I love you so much, Stéphan. It's not about the mask."

"Found it," I say, flipping open the book to a laminated chinese menu.

I'd been waiting, not wanting to interrupt their moment. Sexually, Stéphan is dominant to both of
us. But emotionally, well... it seems like his childhood and the way he grew up plays into that. He
is afraid or insecure - at least that's how it seems. Every chance Y/N or I have to chip away at that
insecurity is important. This seemed like one of them.

"I already know what I want," I say, handing the menu to Y/N.

"What are you getting?" Stéphan asks.

"Same thing I always do," I say. "Beef and broccoli and an order of gyoza."

"Gyoza sounds good," Y/N says. "I want some chicken fried rice too."

Stéphan pulls away as he takes the menu, scanning it quickly. "I think I'm going to get the
mongolian beef and an order of summer rolls. Do we want to get anything for later?"
"I'm okay," Y/N says. "I'll never be able to finish all of mine as it is."

"Maybe szechuan chicken?" I say. "Or beef with mushrooms?"

"Those sound good," Stéphan says. "Okay, I'll place the order."

"When you're done, I think our face masks will be ready to peel off," Y/N says. "Mine has already
started to crack around my mouth."

We remove our face masks and moisturize, following Y/N's instructions. I have to admit, my skin
feels pretty nice. We curl up on the bed, indulging Y/N's Spencer Reid fixation while we wait for
the food. I hadn't expected to like the show, but it's actually very good. We tease her mercilessly
every time Spencer says something that makes her blush.

The food comes and we eat while we watch another episode. We feed each other bites of food with
chopsticks, laughing when a piece falls which happens more than once. Y/N pauses the show
periodically to explain some part of the back-story that wasn't outlined in the episode.

It's fun. Easy. I'm enjoying myself, enjoying the way Stéphan had leaned against my chest after I
finished my food as if it were a perfectly normal thing we've done a hundred times. Enjoying the
way Y/N absently runs her finger along my thigh while she watches TV. Enjoy the way the three
of us just meld.

"Do you want to do nails or watch another episode?" Stéphan asks as the ending credits appear.

"Let's do nails," Y/N says. "I'm dying to see you two rocking some black fingernail polish."
 Stéphan

I settle myself on the floor, cross-legged, the bottle of nail polish held in my mouth. Y/N is sitting
in a chair in front of me. We decided that she would paint his nails while I paint her toes. Then I'll
paint her nails, providing I do a decent job with her toes and then David will paint mine as his
should be dry.

Y/N places her foot on my knee and hands me a foamy toe-separator thing. I've seen them on TV
but never in person. I pull them apart and slide the foam between her toes.

"Like this?" I ask.

"Mmhmm," she says, focusing on David's fingernails.

"You didn't even look," I say.

"It feels right," she says. "I'm sure it's fine."

I run my finger along the bottom of her foot, lightly tickling her instep.

"Hey," she says, scowling at me as she jerks her foot back.

"You're ticklish," I say, my voice smug.

"Yeah, so what." she says.

"Now I know how to get your attention," I say.

"I hate being tickled," she says. "I don't recommend you make a habit of it."

"That sounds suspiciously like a challenge," I say, opening the bottle of polish.

"If you want to get kicked in the face, sure," she says, her tone light but the words holding a bite.

"You'd really kick me in the face?" I ask.

"Maybe," she says. "I really hate to be tickled. I'm not responsible for what happens if you decide
to do it after I asked you not to."

I run the little brush of color down her toe.

"What if it's an accident?" I ask.

"Obviously not then," she says. "Unless it's a really hard tickle. Then my body just reacts. Like... I
might accidentally kick you."

"Noted," I say, finishing her big toe. "This is much harder than it looks. I thought with such a little
brush it would be easy."

Y/N laughs.

"Imagine trying to paint your own nails with your non-dominant hand," she says.

"I don't know how you guys get so good at this," David says.
"Other hand," Y/N says.

"You're already done with this whole hand?" I ask. "I'm only on your second toe."

"Use your pinky as a stabilizer," she says.

"That's even harder," I say, my brow furrowed as I focus on trying to move the little brush with
slow, steady movements.

"Not once you get the hang of it," she says.

I look up at David. He's holding his hand out, moving it this way and that as he looks at the polish.

"It's actually not bad," he says. "I thought it would be weird."

"It's hot," Y/N says. "I can use a matte top coat so they aren't shiny if you want."

"That might be cool," David says.

I start on the third toe, but mess it up, the paint somehow smearing on the side.

"Dammit," I say, shaking my head as I try to fix it but just make it worse.

"It's okay," Y/N says. "Just get a q-tip and use the remover."

I lean up and grab the two items.

"Pour a little of the remover into the cap and then you can just dip the q-tip," she says. "Switch
hands."

"You're already starting the second coat?" I ask. "Jesus."

I fix her toe and continue, concentrating. I bite my tongue, the tip of it sticking out of my mouth.
I've done this since I was a kid, whenever I am really focused on something.

"Do you know how cute you are?" she asks, leaning forward to kiss my forehead.

"Well I want to do a good job," I say.

"You're doing fine," she says.

"So... where else are you ticklish?" David asks.

"I'm not going to tell you," she says, turning back to work on his hand. "Are you ticklish?"

"Not really," David says.

"What about you?" she says, turning to look at me.

I blush, not knowing why.

"Sometimes," I say. "It comes and goes."

She rolls her eyes and takes David's other hand to finish his second coat.

"Must be nice," she says. "I hate it."

"Why?" David asks.

"It sounds weird," she says.

"Tell us," I say, moving on to her pinky toe.

"Yeah, come on," David says.

"My uncle loved to tickle me," she responds. "He would do it until I cried or peed on myself. Even
when I would beg him to stop, he didn't. He didn't ever do anything else to me. But it always felt
just... I don't know... wrong. And the more he tickled me, the more I hated it. I told my aunt I didn't
like it and they had this huge fight. Then I never really saw them anymore except for holidays. She
eventually divorced him. I haven't thought about him in a long time."

"That's all that happened?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says. "Honestly, he never did anything that was inappropriate. It was just a feeling I
had. Like something was wrong but I couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was."

"How old were you?" David asks.

"I don't know," she says. "Like seven I guess."

"Well I'm glad you told," I say. "Maybe he was just a weirdo, but a lot of paedos start with
tickling."

"Really?" she asks, closing the bottle of black polish and opening the matte top coat. I finally begin
on her other foot.

"Yeah," I say. "Trust me. I don't know if it's because they like forcing a response that eventually
leads to something else or what, but... it's pretty common."

Y/N looks at me, hard, and I realize what I've said and how it could be construed.

"Not me," I say, shaking my head. "But I grew up with a lot of other orphans. Some of them for
sure."

"I'm sorry for them," Y/N says. "That's a horrible, awful thing. I hope they're okay now."

"Honestly," I say, concentrating on her toes. "I don't know. I didn't keep in touch with anyone from
back then. I should have maybe. But I'd probably have ended up in jail. I can't abide any one that
does that shit. I'd probably have killed people."

"How old were you when you left the group home?" David asks.

"Sixteen," I say. "I got arrested and they kicked me out."

"What'd you get arrested for?" Y/N asks.

"Stupid shit," I say. "Stealing. We didn't have very nice clothes and I got tired of kids picking on
me for how I dressed. It was a phase I guess."

"I get that," Y/N says. "I used to steal jewelry from claire's. It was cheap and worthless, but I liked
the rush."

"I've never stolen anything," David says.

"Liar," I respond.

"No really," he says.

"You stole my heart dumbass," I say, grinning.

"Mine too," Y/N chimes in.

"Look at that," I say. "Multiple counts. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Guilty as charged?" David asks shrugging, his face split my a wide smile that makes his scar
catch the light.

"How did you get that," I say, gesturing towards his face. "You've had it the whole time I've known
you."

David draws into himself before my eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," he says.

"Awww come on," Y/N says. "It can't be that bad."

David swallows and I want to hug him, to comfort him.

"It was stupid," he says with a sigh. "I got careless. I was in Afghanistan with the army and there
was a kid, maybe ten years old. I was trying to protect him, but he turned out to be part of the bad
guys. He attacked me when I picked him up to carry him out of the hot zone. Some one in my
squad shot him. I felt horrible. He was just a kid."

"I'm so sorry, David," I say, genuinely.

"It wasn't your fault," Y/N says.

"Felt like it," David says, shrugging. "I couldn't believe someone who looked so innocent could be
so..."

He seems tortured and I feel bad enough to break out one of my secrets.

"I met some homeless kids that were pretty vicious after the home kicked me out," I say. "These
kids were basically feral but they just wanted to survive. Any type of moral compass goes out the
window if you're in survival mode."

"How long were you homeless?" Y/N asks.

"A few months," I say, shrugging. "Anonymous took me in. They showed me how to make money
doing the hacker thing." I turn to David. "You know Tony right?"

"Yeah," David says.

"He caught me when we were both hacking the same target," I say. "He was so much better than
me at like everything. I begged him to teach me and the rest is history."

"Thank you Tony," Y/N says softly.

"He's a good guy," I say. "When he realized I was homeless and my only possession was a lousy
laptop, he took me in and so on and so forth. I'll always be grateful to him. Can we change the
subject? To like... anything."

"Yeah of course, baby," Y/N says.

I finish her foot and begin working on the second layer of polish for the first.

"Your toes look like little pieces of candy, I say.

"Thank you," she says, peering down at my handiwork. It's not bad if I do say so myself.

"You're pretty good at this," Y/N says.

"I like to paint," I say. "This is a similar concept.

"Well I've never done anything even remotely close to this," David says "I"m pretty sure I'm going
to ruin your hands. Maybe Y/N should do it. She's used to it."

I shrug.

"So what if you mess up?" I say. "All the cool black nail polish I've ever seen was kinda grungey."

"The more I get to know you," Y/N says. "The more amazing you are. I hope you know that."

"I do... mostly," I say. "I don't always think about things the way other people do. So it means a lot
for you to say that. You're precious to me. I have the hardest time deciding whether I want to hurt
you the way you like, the way we both like, or just hold you and talk about nothing."

"I told you," David says. "Just put your dick in her. Everything will be all right. It's the only way to
combat the cuteness."

"Little hard with us all in timeout," I say. "But I'm looking forward to some cuddle time this
afternoon."

"Dibs on the littlest spoon," Y/N says.

I grin. She's so fucking cute. I finish the second coat of polish and apply the top coat. It seems to go
on faster and easier. Maybe because it's clear.

"You can always be the littlest spoon," David says.

I can't help but agree.

 Y/N

I watch David paint Stéphan's nails while mine are drying. David is concentrating so hard. I have to
admit, he looks hot with black fingernails. I don't know why. He just does.

"If you do a good job, I'll suck your dick," Stéphan says.

"Not helping," David says, the brush gliding along Stéphan's nail bed.

"What?" Stéphan asks. "It's motivation."

"First," David says, pulling the brush away from Stéphan's nail and pointing it at him. "We're all in
time out, so it's an empty promise. And second, I'm trying to concentrate. I need all my blood to
stay in my brain. Thinking about you sucking my dick is not conducive to keeping the blood in my
brain."

David continues painting, dipping the little brush into the bottle and sliding the excess off one side.
He exhales before he presses the brush against Stéphan's nail. I realize he's approaching it very
much like a sniper preparing to shoot. He's doing fine. I don't know why he was so nervous about
it.

"I was kidding," Stéphan says, his voice sounding pouty. "Mostly."

"Shush," David says. "Just sit there and be quiet. I'm almost done."

I start to laugh, unable to hold it in. Stéphan glares at me, but he can't hold it. His mouth turns up in
a smile.

"Fine," he says. "But you two..."

"I said quiet," David says, cutting him off.

Stéphan scrunches up his face, but stops talking. I can practically see the thoughts flying over his
face. I can't wait for this time-out to be over. He's going to be vicious when he has me at his mercy.
David's not a masochist, but I imagine, Stéphan has plans for us both. A shiver of anticipation
snakes down my spine and I can't tell if it's for me or David. Probably both.

David finishes Stéphan's nails and the two of us begin cleaning up. Stéphan sits with this fingers
spread wide, palms flat on the table. I step close, pressing his my chest against the back of his head
as I wrap my arms around his neck and bend down to kiss his cheek.

"You can talk now," I say, coyly, shamelessly rubbing my hands down his chest. He isn't
restrained, but it feels like he is and I can't help but take advantage.

"I don't have anything to say that wouldn't lead to sex," Stéphan says.

"Surely it isn't that bad," I say, unable to resist poking the bear. Stéphan turns his head enough to
glance at me side-eyed.

"I can't wait to punish you," he says, calling my bluff. "I'm going to do the most awful things to
you."

My breath catches in my throat, a tiny gasp slipping between my lips. I clench my teeth, head
falling back as I close my eyes in an attempt at control.
"Look at you," he says. "Already aching for it. I bet you miss being my little slut. Sucking my dick
with your whore mouth, pussy dripping and hungry, waiting for me to fill you up."

God. I fucking love when he calls me names. Love the way he talks to me. It gets me every time. I
cover his mouth with my hand and bite my lip, waiting for my pulse to slow.

"You're right," I say. "That will definitely lead to sex."

He opens his mouth and bites my finger, his teeth scraping against the skin tortuously slow as he
lets it slip between them. His tongue snakes out, licking where he bit, sending a shiver of
goosebumps up my arm.

"You should back away," he says. "Before I mess up my nails."

I swallow. I should. I know I should. But I don't. I can't. Stupid pussy. Always trying to start
trouble. Down bitch.

David apparently realizes where my mind is at. He grabs me around my middle, pulling me away
from Stéphan. I hadn't been expecting it and let out a little scream.

"Come on badness," he says. "I worked too hard for you to make a mess of them."

He carries me to the other side of the table and sets me in the chair.

"Stay," he says, pushing me back down with a hand in the middle of my chest when I attempt to
rise.

"But..."

"No buts," he says. "You had your chance earlier and you said no. Something about not wanting to
go to bed aching if I remember."

"I'm aching now," I say through clenched teeth, my pussy apparently still running shit.

"Too late," he says. "We're going to watch TV until Stéphan's nails dry and then play some games.
You're going to be a good girl and stop pushing him or we won't be responsible for how sore you
are."

"I'm not feeling particularly sore," I say, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Endorphins," he says. "You and I both know that your poor pussy has been beat half to death.
Keep playing and we'll see if we can't finish the job."

I don't know what's wrong with my brain, but I get this mental image of my pussy as a character in
a Mortal Kombat style video game. 'K.O.' my brain says, mimicking the game's signature sound. I
start to laugh, as my imaginary pussy falls to the floor with X's for eyes just above the clit.

"What?" David asks, surprised by my laughter.

"Nothing," I say, snort laughing at my ridiculous imagination. "It's nothing."

David turns to look over his shoulder at Stéphan. Stéphan shrugs in confusion. When I stop
laughing, I tell them about the imaginary pussy Mortal Kombat game happening in my head and
start to laugh again. At least the sexual tension has dispelled in the wake of my laughter.

"Have I told you you're a goofball?" David asks, bending down to kiss my forehead.
"You don't understand how funny it is in my head," I say, still chuckling. "I wish I could draw.
Shit's hilarious."

"How much longer do I have to sit here?" Stéphan asks.

"Like fifteen more minutes," I say.

"Can't I just be VERY careful," he says.

I shrug.

"Up to you," I say.

Stéphan stands and walks over to the bed, getting on it carefully and placing his hands on his
knees.

"Set up the show, please" he says. "I need a distraction."

We never do get around to playing the games, choosing instead to keep bingeing Criminal Minds.
I'm really glad they like it since it's one of my favorite shows. And thus far, they haven't
mentioned the tiktok account or gone snooping. I wish I could delete the videos but there's no way
for me to log into my old account without blowing our cover. They'll find them at some point
though. I'm sure of that. For curiosity's sake if nothing else. That is an embarrassment I'd just as
soon put off.

For dinner, we doordash a japanese restaurant and I finally get my sushi fix. It seems like ages
since I've had it and I moan appreciatively while I eat. This of course, gains me a leveled stare
from Stéphan and David.

"What?" I ask, covering my mouth with my hand as I chew. "It's soooooo good. I don't mean for it
to sound sexual, I swear."

"Awful things," Stéphan says, looking at me before he turns back to his dinner.

I manage to control myself enough NOT to ask. But I can't help but wonder - what kind of awful
things? And how can those two words evoke such a powerful response? I push it away, attempting
to be good despite the urge from every cell in my body to be bad.

We eventually fall asleep cuddled together on the bed as Spencer Reid lulls us to sleep with his
vast array of knowledge.
 David

"She's got to be almost done," I say, pacing back and forth. "She's been in there for over an hour."

I'm anxious to get going. The concierge had delivered the picnic basket almost half an hour ago
and I am dying to get out of this room. Get some fresh air. Be around people. I'm going crazy
trying to curtail all the dirty ideas ricocheting around my in my brain.

We'd had a lazy morning, languishing in bed for hours as we talked and fed each other fruit and
other tidbits we'd ordered for breakfast. I don't know who needs to hear this, but it's absolute
torture to be naked in bed watching Stéphan feed bites of cantaloupe and mango to Y/N. The little
sucking and slurping sounds. The juice dribbling down her chin. Stéphan's growl as he raised her
by the throat so he could lick it clean.

I'm pretty sure I'd stopped breathing, my dick hardening instantly as I watched them. In retrospect,
maybe feeding each other in bed had been a bad idea. It certainly hadn't made it easy for any of us.
No, it'd been hard. Rock hard.

"Relax," Stéphan says, flipping absently through a book of crossword puzzles we'd picked up at
Target yesterday. "She'll be done when she's done. The champagne is in a portable chiller so it will
stay cold for hours. We've got time."

"How are you so calm?" I ask, sitting down beside him. "I don't think my dick has been fully soft
in what seems like forever. Everything she does, everything you do... it's driving me crazy. Just the
idea of her naked and wet in the shower about killed me. I've never felt like this about anyone
before and there's two of you. It's exponentially worse."

"It's like that for me too," he says, closing the book and turning to face me, pulling his knee up on
the couch. My eyes drop to his crotch without my permission. I know better. I definitely know
better, but I can't seem to help it. My mouth starts to water, a subconscious response to the bulge in
his pants.

"I want you," I say, the words falling from my lips, unbidden.

Stéphan looks at me, drawing my eyes up his body. He's dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. So
fucking sexy. I swallow as I look at his hands, veiny and tanned, his black fingernails catching the
light.

"Be good," Stéphan says, his voice dropping low in that way that always gets to me.

"I can't stop thinking about what your hand will look like wrapped around my dick," I say.

I gasp when he moves, too quick for my brain to register until it had already happened. He's
holding my wrist, pulling me closer. My throat closes up, heartbeat skyrocketing as he places my
hand against the thick bulge.

"Your hand will be wrapped around mine first," he growls.

I nod, speechless, my eyes closing as a wave of lust goes straight to my dick. I want to attack him,
to tear his clothes off and suck him right here on the couch. The image of it in my head is so
vibrant, so loud.

"Please," I whisper.
"Anything I do will only make it worse," Stéphan says.

"I don't care," I say.

He pulls me against him, crushing my mouth to his. You'd think with me on top, I'd feel control,
but I don't. Stéphan controls me with a hand on my throat. I try to deepen the kiss and he squeezes.
I try to push my tongue in his mouth and he squeezes. He won't let me kiss him back. Manipulating
my mouth with his tongue and teeth and lips.

The ache in my dick is unbearable. I grind myself against him, feeling his hardness against mine,
despite our clothes. He moans, the sound vibrating through me. I'd never have believed the sound
of a man moaning would be sexy to me but fuck if it isn't. Just when I think that maybe we ARE
going to fuck here on the couch, he shoves me away.

I meet his eyes, black with desire, his pupils so wide. He's breathing hard. We both are. For a
moment, he looks at me like prey and I'm fine with that. I'm so fucking fine with that. I don't even
care what we do. But something. I need him to do SOMETHING.

He winks at me, his eyes going back to normal, a sly smirk tilting his mouth up at the corner. I
watch as he masters himself in seconds.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "No, please."

I'd give anything for that kind of control. I don't have it. I can't even think past my the throbbing
ache in my dick.

"I warned you," he says. "You said you didn't care."

I grit my teeth, leaning against the other end of the couch, putting distance between us as I try to get
myself under control.

"Bastard," I say, from between my teeth. "You like it. You like knowing how easily you can push
me."

"I never claimed I didn't," he says, his tone lightly mocking. "Now be good."

I'm adjusting my pants, attempting to find a comfortable position for my dick when the bathroom
door opens. My mouth goes dry and I stop breathing. Framed by the bathroom light, Y/N looks
almost ethereal. I've never seen anything or anyone more beautiful.

Her hair is down around her shoulders in flowing curls that catch the light. And the sundress that I
hadn't been very impressed with when we bought it, hugs all her curves. It's tight around her waist
and chest, lifting her tits so they're practically begging to be licked and sucked. Stop looking at her
tits. Stop it right now.

My gaze lowers. The dress is flat across her stomach, flowing over her hips. It stops just above her
knee. Her pale creamy calves glisten. Even her feet are cute, her little toes on display in the
sandals.

"You look beautiful," Stéphan says.

She smiles and I snap out of my daze.

"Um, yeah...," I say, feeling dumb. "So pretty."

Eloquent, dumbass. Real eloquent. I shake my head, dispelling the mental chastisement. Y/N walks
toward us, hips swaying. Between Stéphan and her, I'm completely at a loss. My brain seems to
have malfunctioned and I've lost the ability to do anything but stare at her. She stops in front of us,
her smile sultry and seductive.

"I'm ready if you're ready," she says, glancing back and forth between us.

The picnic. Oh yeah... I'd forgotten about the picnic. I tear my eyes away from her and stand.
Stéphan grabs the basket and I wish I'd thought of it. I don't know what to do with my hands now.

"Do you have a card key?" she asks.

I pat my pockets absently, my gaze dropping to her tits again. Her nipples are visible, poking
through the thin material.

"I do," Stéphan says. "David, you wanna grab the blanket?"

"Yeah, sure," I say, not moving.

"Uhh... David?" Y/N says, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

I shake my head, forcing myself to look up at her face. Not that it's difficult. She's beautiful, her full
lips parting in a wide smile, her eyes twinkling.

"Sorry," I say, embarrassed to have been caught staring. "It's uh... it's a really nice dress."

"Come on, loverboy," she says, handing me the blanket. She links her arm with mine and pulls me
towards the door.

********************

We spread the blanket out in the shade under a tree. Stéphan had wrapped some things in it. The
football and sunblock for Y/N. A book and the crossword. I arrange everything next to it, slip my
shoes off and settle myself in the corner. Y/N sits next to me, folding her legs beneath her and
adjusting her dress.

"Will you help me with the sunblock?" she asks as Stéphan opens the basket and begins pulling
things out. "It's a beautiful day but I'll turn into a lobster in no time with this much sun."

I groan inwardly. She's trying to kill me. They're both trying to kill me. I grab the bottle of cream
and squirt some into my palm. Y/N lifts her hair out of the way as I rub my hands together,
distributing the sunblock. I can do this. I can touch her without ripping that fucking dress off her in
the middle of the park and shoving my dick inside her. Yep. I got this. Totally...

I spend the entirety of the time that I'm rubbing Y/N down with the sunblock cataloging football
teams in my brain. When I run out of teams, I mentally list my favorite players and any stats I can
remember. There aren't many. Y/N slips the spaghetti straps of the dress over her shoulders so I can
rub the lotion in and every stat I've ever known evaporates. The little scrap of material couldn't
possibly be any more enticing as it rests on her bicep.

I clear my throat, pulling the straps back up when I finish. She turns to me and rises up on her knees
to kiss me.

"Thanks," she says, pressing her mouth against mine in a chaste kiss.
She pulls away, but I hold her close, pressing those gorgeous tits against my chest as I take her
mouth, giving into the urge I'd had since she first opened the bathroom door. I kiss her slowly,
teasing her with my tongue until her hands clench in my shirt. Satisfied, I set her down, enjoying
the dazed expression on her face. I'm sure that's exactly how I'd looked for the last forty-five
minutes or so.

"You're welcome," I say, turning to Stéphan. "Need any help?"

"You can open the champagne," he says, nodding towards the portable chiller.

On an average day, I imagine it's against some law or another to have champagne at the park, but
we don't care. We drink and eat our meal, remarking on how nicely the hotel prepared it. There are
a lot of people out, but that's to be expected what with so many people working from home or laid
off due to the pandemic. At least most of them are wearing masks. We'd worn ours too, but
removed them when we'd picked our spot.

I clear away the food when we finish, mostly so I have something to do with my hands. I've spent
the last half an hour fighting the urge to slip my hand beneath her skirt and find out what kind of
panties are beneath that infernal dress. The longer I look at it, the more convinced I am that it was
designed by the devil himself.

There are little bows at the top of each strap where they tie together and I've imagined untying
them a hundred different times in a hundred different ways. Thank god there are so many people
out. If the park was deserted, I think I'd have fucked her beneath this tree, renovations be damned.
I'm still not entirely certain I won't anyway.

Stéphan kicks his feet out, able to stretch out now that the food is cleared away. I toss him a bottle
of bubbles that had been in the bottom of the basket. The hotel staff must have thrown it in.

"I haven't blown bubbles since I was a kid," Y/N says, taking the bottle out of his hands.

She sits cross legged, her dress riding up on her thigh, while she dips the little wand into the bottle
and blows a stream of bubbles. I smile, watching her eyes twinkle as she laughs with gleeful
abandon. I glance at Stéphan. He is as entranced as me.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I saw them in there, but decided to leave them. I had no idea you'd enjoy
them so much."

She catches one of the bubbles on the wand and darts forward to catch another. Her dress settles
when she does and my unencumbered view of her creamy thigh is gone.

"I didn't either," she says. "It's silly right?"

"No," he says. "It's adorable."

"Wanna do a crossword?" she asks.

She caps the bottle and leans across me to grab the book. She hunts around for the pen and my
heart stops. Her chest. Her oh so delectible breasts brush against my dick and I clench my hands. I
have got to get some control. Damn dress. I'd had no idea when we bought it that it would be so...
fetching.

Fetching? What the fuck? Since when do I use words like fetching in my own brain. I look up at
the branches of the trees, anything to distract myself from the way her tits are rubbing against my
dick, which is hardening painfully. When I can take no more, I grab her shoulders, pulling her
away from the pile of activities and push her away.

"I'll get it," I say.

I turn away, nonchalantly rearranging my dick as I look for the pen in the grass. I, too, am unable
to find it. It's bound to be here somewhere, but I don't have the patience to look for it.

"Wanna throw the football around instead?" I ask. "I don't see the pen. You an show off your
spiral."

"Yeah okay," she says. "Stéphan, you'll play too?"

"Of course," he says, grinning at her. He pulls her into a hug, settling a kiss at the nape of her neck.
She shivers and the image seems to go straight to my dick. I want to ravage her. Seduce her. Kiss
her until she forgets we're in the middle of a public park. Surely, it will be better with a bit of
distance between us. Maybe my dick will get the message that we're here to play and relax.

What I hadn't counted on... was watching her jump around to catch the ball. Nope... definitely
didn't account for that. Stéphan, though far more controlled than I appears to be struggling with the
same thing. It starts out innocent enough, a ball thrown just a little high so she has to stretch for it.
I'd like to claim that I am over here appreciating her athletic abilities. But I'm not. No I'm really
not.

Y/N doesn't seem to mind, her cheeks flushed as she jumps to catch a ball that was far too high.
She stretches, but just misses it, her fingertips hitting the bottom of it. It sails over her shoulder as
she lands on her feet.

"Dammit," she says. "I was so close."

She turns to retrieve the ball which has landed next to a couple of guys. I hadn't noticed them
before. My eyes had been glued to Y/N. One of them grabs the ball as she walks up to them.

"Hey beautiful," I hear him say. "Looks like you dropped something."

"I almost had it," she says, ignoring his compliment.

"We've got some other balls you can play with," the other one says.

Stéphan and I immediately begin moving towards them.

"I've got all the balls I can handle, thanks," she says, gesturing at us. "Can I have the football
please?"

She reaches for it, but the guy holds it out of reach.

"Jump for it baby," the guy says. "Let me see those titties bounce up close."

I seethe, moving with purpose now.

Y/N cocks her head to the side and I wonder if she's considering actually jumping when she says,
"You wanna see them bounce?"

I stop walking, grabbing Stéphan's arm. He is apparently as livid as I am, but the tone in her voice
stalls me. It's sticky sweet, dripping with seduction. She takes a step closer to the guy and my blood
boils at the look on his face. That's my woman. Well... our woman. Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind
anyone looking, but he's ogling her like a piece of meat.
"Amongst other things," he says. "Ditch those losers and I'll show you a real good time."

"You think you could handle me?" she asks, her voice husky.

She's not flirting with him. I know she's not. I KNOW it. But I'm furious. I begin walking towards
her again.

"Oh I know I can," he says.

"You can give me what I need?" she asks, taking a step closer.

"All night baby," the guy says.

"Well I NEED my fucking ball back, asshole," she says.

I watch, my jaw dropping as she knees him in the balls and grabs the football when he doubles
over.

"Fucking bitch," he snarls, throwing his hand out in anger, trying to hit her.

She dodges and this only seems to piss him off more. He's drawing back a fist, apparently deciding
to punch her, when I tackle him around the waist.

"How dare you!" I scream as my fist connects with his jaw, holding him down with one hand
around his throat as I punch with the other. "You wanna hit somebody, try me shit for brains."

He claws at my hand around his throat.

"She started it," he gasps out.

"I don't care what she did," I say. "You don't hit women you pathetic piece of shit."

Stéphan grabs me, attempting to pull me off the guy.

"Maybe you should check your bitch," the guy's friend says. "That's what she gets for dressing like
a whore."

"Did you just call me a whore?" Y/N asks, dropping the football.

"If the shoe fits, bitch," he says. "Dress like a whore, get treated like a whore."

"What did you say?" Stéphan asks, letting me go.

"You heard me," the man says. "Fucking cock tease, jumping around half naked."

I turn at the sound of Stéphan's fist hitting the guy's jaw. Well, shit. I look back at the guy I'm
fighting... if fighting is even a word for it. He hadn't put up much of a fight. I push off of him.

Stéphan's guy lands a lucky punch, rocking his jaw back, but it doesn't matter. I've seen Stéphan
fight. He can take a punch. Stéphan comes back with a right hook, knocking the guy flat. He spits a
mouthful of blood at the guy on the ground.

"Disrespectful bastard," he says. "I dare you to say it again. I fucking dare you."

He grabs the guy by his shirt, hauling him to his feet.

"Nothing to say now? Pussy ass bitch."

Stéphan pulls his fist back to hit the guy again, but I grab his arm.

"Let him go," I say. "He's not worth it."

Stéphan holds him for a moment, considering. I can almost see his thoughts. We only just got our
new identities. The last thing we need is to get arrested. He shoves the guy to the ground.

"Learn some fucking manners douchenozzle," he says, turning away.

Y/N rushes to him.

"You're bleeding," she says, turning his face to the side.

"It's nothing, baby," he says as she hugs him. "I'm sorry they ruined our picnic."

"Let's go back to the hotel and put some ice on it," I say. "I could use some for my hand too."

"Yeah, sure," he says.

We leave the guys, making our way back to the tree, the football forgotten. Y/N helps me gather
everything up as Stéphan spits another mouthful of blood into the grass. He must have cut the
inside of his mouth on his teeth when the dude hit him. I hand him his mask.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, just pissed I let him hit me," Stéphan says.

"I'm so sorry guys," she says as we walk back to the hotel. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"You didn't," Stéphan says. "Those guys were assholes. I can't believe he tried to punch you."

"And the other," I say. "Blaming you for what you're wearing. They're both douchebags."

"You guys were amazing," she says, linking arms with both of us. "Thank you."

"You probably had it under control," I say. "But I didn't want to have to explain to the police why I
killed a man in a public park if he managed to land that punch."

"I'm still sorry," Y/N says. "I wasn't even thinking. He wouldn't give me my ball back and then he
called you guys losers. I lost it. It was all my fault."

"Forget it, baby," Stéphan says, leaning over to kiss the side of her head. "I'm fine. We're all fine."
 Stéphan

"Can we get some ice packs?" Y/N asks the concierge.

"Of course," the man says. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she responds. "We had an altercation in the park, but everyone is fine."

"Do you want us to call the police?" he asks.

"No," she says. "Just the ice packs please."

"Of course, ma'am," he says. "Right away."

"Thank you," she says, turning back to us.

"Poor baby," she says, laying a kiss on my cheek. "Your jaw is so swollen."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

"It's really not that big a deal," I say. "It doesn't even hurt."

"Will you please let me take care of you?" she asks. "It's the least I can do."

I look at David over her shoulder. He's grinning at me and I don't know why.

"What?" I ask, ignoring her question.

"You should just give in now," he says. "Trust me. She threw an absolute fit over the teeniest,
tinest scrape you've ever seen."

She puts her hands on her hips and scowls.

"You'd been shot," she whispers through clenched teeth.

"It just grazed me," I tell him. "Barely even bled."

She throws her hands up dramatically.

"Men," she exclaims, turning away from us and taking a step towards the elevator.

I reach out and grab her arm, pulling her into my arms. She struggles for a moment, but I don't let
go.

"Baby, stop," I whisper, my mouth moving against the side of her head. Her back is pressed against
me, her pulse racing. "You can take care of me, okay?"

"Don't patronize me," she says, exhaling a slow breath.

"I'm not," I say. "I'm just not used to having anyone who cares enough to take care of me."

She turns in my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Awww, baby," she says. "That makes me sad for you. I'm sorry to be so difficult. I just hate to see
you in pain over something that was my fault."
I bend down, putting my mask covered against her ear. "You're MY whore. Mine and David's.
Other people don't get to call you that."

She shivers in my arms.

"You umm... you promised you'd do awful things to me," she says, running a finger down my
chest.

God, I love her. Love the way we are together.

"I haven't forgotten," I say. "I wasn't sure you'd want to after what happened in the park."

"Are you kidding?" she asks. "It was hot... watching you. It was primal in a way I can't even
explain. I umm... I think the renovations are done."

She blushes.

"Oh really?" I ask.

"I mean... mostly," she whispers. "I'm still a little sore, but I need to have you inside me."

"It doesn't have to hurt," I say. "I can do awful things to you without hurting you."

"But I like when you hurt me," she pouts.

The concierge returns holding several ice packs.

"You're going to regret telling me that," I whisper, my voice low and growly.

Y/N trembles in my arms and I love it.

"Promise?" she asks.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," I say, pulling away. The tops of her cheeks are pink above her
mask and I wonder if it's from anticipation. I wink at her and give her a little push towards the
concierge.

"I brought several in case you need any for later," the man says. "Directions are on the box."

"Thank you," she says.

I hand him a tip and we head for the elevator.

"What was that all about?" David asks when the elevator doors close.

"You'll see," I say. I'd assumed he'd overheard, but it's just as well if he didn't. I take my mask off,
folding it and putting it in my pocket.

We get back to the room and walk inside. Y/N let's out a startled scream when I grab her and shove
her against the wall. My hand hits the wall near her head, trapping her, the other grasping her jaw,
lifting it. The stupid mask is in the way. I push it down beneath her chin, smiling when her lips
part. She's breathing hard already. Good sign. I wedge my leg between hers, rubbing the front of
my thigh against her warm pussy as I drop my head, my lips hovering a mere inch from hers. The
way her eyes flutter hardens my dick. I stroke her bottom lip with the tip of my tongue.

"Take this dress off before I ruin it," I say, my voice low and breathy. "Put on something loose, a t-
shirt maybe. No pants. No panties. I want to be able to slide my fingers inside you whenever I
want."

"Jesus," she whispers.

"I believe the phrase you're looking for is 'yes sir'," I say.

"Yes sir," she breathes without hesitation.

"When you finish changing," I say. "You can take care of David's hand. Then I want to see you
wrap this pretty mouth around his dick. You understand?"

She is silent for a moment. I wait.

"What about your face?" she asks.

I raise an eyebrow at her, but don't speak. Several seconds pass.

"You said I could take care of you..., sir," she says.

"Oh, you're going to," I say. "You're going to take VERY good care of me."

"But...," she begins.

"If you aren't careful," I say, interrupting her, "you're going to get punished before you even have a
chance to start working on my face."

She swallows and I begin to wonder if maybe she isn't going to argue with me.

"Yes, sir," she eventually says. "I understand."

I grind my leg against her, putting the force of my weight behind it and she whimpers.

"Good girl," I say, stroking a finger along her jaw.

I want to kiss her, but my mouth is still bleeding and that might be a little much. I push away,
watching as she sags against the wall now that my leg is no longer holding her up. For some
reason, it's incredibly sexy. I wonder if maybe I didn't make her knees weak. When I turn away, I
find David watching us, his eyes hungry.

"Go sit down," I say, gesturing towards the table with chairs around it. "Get doctored on."

He shakes his head, smiling.

"I could just as easily skip the doctoring and go straight to the good stuff," he says.

I shake my head.

"Be good," I say. "Get doctored. Then you can get your dick sucked."

Y/N makes quick work of my instructions. She pulls at a zipper beneath her arm and releases the
ties on each shoulder, making eye contact with me as the bows slowly fall apart. David and I watch
her strip, both of us unconsciously adjusting our respective bulges when the dress falls to the floor
to reveal lace panties and a matching strapless bra.

"On second thought," I say, swallowing a mouthful of nothing. "Forget the shirt. Keep the panties."
Jesus christ. She's so fucking sexy. My eyes rove over her.

"Ummm... I hate to intrude on whatever little fantasy you have playing out in your head," David
says. "But I will NOT be able to control myself if she is wearing THAT to doctor on me. Deadass."

She giggles, her breasts bouncing eroticly.

"Guess we're gonna have to tie you to the chair," I say, winking at her when my eyes rise to her
face.

"You're determined to kill me," David sighs.

"Yeah, but you'll love every second," I say.

Y/N kicks her sandals off, stalking towards David, a particular kind of sway in her walk that isn't
always there. She looks lascivious as she backs David up to a chair. I can't help but watch the scene
unfold, desire for both of them flooding my veins.

"If you're a good boy," she says, her voice husky. "I'll let you feel how wet my panties are before I
tie your free hand to the chair."

David swallows as she places one finger in the middle of his chest and pushes him down into the
chair. I love it, seeing her dominant side, knowing I'm the one who gets to tame her. I tear my eyes
away from them, moving towards the closet to retrieve the restraints and a few other goodies from
the bag of kink.

"God, you're so wet," David says.

I turn to find Y/N holding his injured hand against the table, her head thrown back as David rubs
his hand against the outside of her panties. She stifles a moan as he slips his fingers around the
edge and pushes them inside her. Fuck, it's hot. It's so hot. I bite my lip watching them. She grabs
his hand and pulls it away, lifting it to his mouth.

"Just a little taste," she says. "To tide you over."

David licks his fingers when she places them against his mouth.

"I want to spread you out on this table," he says. "Fuck my hand. It's fine."

He actually makes a move to rise, but she pushes him back down. I can't fight the grin spreading
across my lips as I step towards them.

"Here," I say, dangling the restraints over Y/N's shoulder. "You can tie him with these."

"Stay," she says, leveling him with her gaze.

In seconds, she pulls his arm down behind him, buckling the cuff around his hand. She squats
down to tie it, her legs opening unconsciously. David was right. She's soaked. I can see the wet
spot in her panties from here. I palm the goodies in one hand, holding it behind my back and reach
the other out to her, lifting her when she finishes tying him.

"I want to kiss you so fucking bad," I say, biting the words out from between clenched teeth.
"You're so god damned sexy."

"You can kiss me," she says.

I run my tongue along the inside of my mouth feeling the jagged edge where my teeth had cut into
it. The metallic taste of blood is still there.

"I'm bleeding," I say quietly. "Not a lot, but..."

Y/N rises on her tip toes and pulls my head to hers, apparently unconcerned. Fucking hell. I pull
her close, crushing our mouths together. She tastes like mint and chocolate. She must have grabbed
one when we were downstairs at the concierge. Her hand winds in my hair, and I growl as she
pushes her tongue into my mouth, kissing me with a ferocity I've never seen with her.

She either likes blood or violence. Probably violence. I had no idea the fight had turned her on so
much. I'm losing myself in her kiss, her hand running down my chest to cup my dick through my
jeans. She bites my lip, her teeth hitting the jagged edge inside. My eyes roll as the pain washes
through me. Fuck. I grab her shoulders and push her away. It's hard. So fucking hard. I want to
push her onto David's lap and plunge my dick in her but I can't. Not yet.

"Don't forget your promise," she says, her eyes glazed with desire.

"Be a good girl and I won't," I respond. I nod towards David's hand where it rests on the table, the
knuckles scraped and swollen. "Fix his hand."

She pouts but turns to David. I wait until her back is turned and smack her ass. A surprised scream
comes from her lips before she hangs her head and moans. David makes eye contact with me over
her shoulder.

"Will you hurry this on along?" he asks. "I'm dying here."

"That's the point isn't it?" Y/N asks.

She straddles David's legs, sitting on his thighs. I watch him swallow hard, his fingers balling into a
fist. She leans across the table grabbing one of the boxes. It's fucking fun watching her tease him.

"Let's see," she says, running a painted fingernail down the side of the box. "Ah yes. Here we go.
Directions. Remove insulated, single-use, instant ice-pack from box. Squeeze hard to 'pop' the
internal bubble." She accentuates the word with hard enunciation. "Shake to distrubute the
chemical fluids and apply to injury. Remove and discard after fifteen minutes."

She turns to look at me over her shoulder. "Will you bring me a wet washcloth?"

I walk over to the bathroom and grab a washcloth, wetting it in the sink and wringing it out. I bring
it back to Y/N. She shakes it out and begins to wash David's hand, taking care with his scraped and
swollen knuckles. When she finishes, she pops the ice pack and places it on his hand. This is the
moment I was waiting for.

"On your knees," I say. "You've still got work to do."

 Y/N

"Yes sir," I say.

Get on your knees, he'd said. And damn if my pussy didn't instantly drip, the moisture collecting in
my panties. As if they weren't already wet enough to wring out like a rag.

Have I mentioned I love when Stéphan goes all dominant? Both of them really. To say nothing of
the way my body tightens every single time the word 'sir' passes my lips? God, it makes me crazy.
I don't know why the Fifty Shades books didn't work on me. I'm obviously all the way wired for
this shit. Maybe it took the right kind of dominants. Or maybe Christian was too much of a creepy
stalker.

"You're certainly taking your time," Stéphan says, his fingers sliding through my hair to yank me
up. I gasp, the rough contact sending a shiver of lust straight to my clit. His lips brush my ear. "I
suggest you move a little faster. If you don't behave, you won't get any of those 'awful things' I
promised."

I swallow. That would certainly be punishment. I let my knees go slack, the weight of my body
pulling against where he holds the length of my hair, now wrapped around his hand. The pain is
sharp and even that seems to pull an answering throb from my clit. Fuck, I've missed this.

My hands rest on David's shoulders as Stéphan pushes me forward, my body sliding against
David's dick, as I sink to my knees. The contact draws a moan from us both. My fingers shake as I
unfasten David's pants and pull his dick out. It seems like a week since I've seen it and my mouth
waters hungrily. I look at David as I lean forward, my tongue swirling around the tip.

"God, you're sexy," he says.

From the corner of my eye, I can see his injured hand where it rests on the table beneath the ice
pack, his fingers balled in a tight fist. I decide to tease him a little more, the tip of my tongue
sliding down the side of him. A sharp swat lands on my ass and I gasp, heat rolling through me.

"Did I or did I not tell you to wrap your pretty lips around his dick?" Stéphan asks.

A slow throb centers in my clit. God. I want more. Want him to hurt me like he promised. To make
my pussy drown and my body sing. I deliberately don't answer, pulling against him so I can lay a
kiss at the base of David's dick. Stéphan pulls me up roughly by my hair.

"If you're a good girl," he growls. "I'll spank you like you want. I'll spank you till your ass burns
beneath my palm and your pussy drips down to your toes. If you are bad, you'll get nothing. Don't
you want to be my good girl?"

I bite my lip, nodding. "Yes sir."

"Then stop trying to top from the bottom," he says.

He pulls my bra strap away from my back, letting it fly back into place with a sharp snap. Funny,
but that never made me ache when boys did it to me in high school.

"Sorry sir," I say, running my tongue along my teeth as warmth rolls through me. "I'll be good."

He runs his other hand down my spine and I shiver the same way I always do, my eyes fluttering
closed.

"Then suck his dick my naughty little slut," he says. "I'll be very disappointed if I don't get to fuck
you and only good girls get dick."

I take a breath, and release my elbows, letting him control me with his hand in my hair. God I love
the way he talks. My pussy throbs, tightening almost painfully. I moan as he lowers me down, my
mouth opening as he guides me onto David's dick. I ignore the absurd voice in the back of my head
telling me I've been dick docked - like a spaceship, but you know, with a dick. I swear, my internal
monologue is basically insane. If people knew what kind of stupid shit goes through my head
they'd lock me up.

My eyes start to water as he pushes me down until David's dick hits the back of my throat. We both
groan when he slides into the narrow space, Stéphan's fist controlling me completely. I brace
myself on David's thighs, my fingers squeezing as I fight not to gag.

"Oh, that's good," David moans. "Fuck, baby."

My eyes open when Stéphan holds me there, my lips crushed at the base of the dick down my
throat. I can't move. Can't breathe.

"Relax," Stéphan says. "You're okay. Don't panic. You can take it. Such a good little whore."

I moan, the sound muffled as I give myself over to the experience. My panic subsides. David's
thighs strain beneath my hands, the vibrations from my moan apparently enjoyable. I do it again,
relishing the growl that comes from his lips as Stéphan pulls me up. I take a deep breath when I get
the chance before he pushes me back down.

A rhythm develops, spit slipping from my mouth as Stéphan moves me how he wants, up and
down. He's teasing David with my mouth. I realize it after several minutes, the knowledge filling
me with a perverse satisfaction. I feel like a toy. Used. And I love it, getting into it more and more.
Moaning and spitting. My mouth a hole for his cock, my pussy soaked and aching.

"Just like that," David says. "God, it's so good."

Stéphan releases my hair and I continue moving the same way, keeping the rhythm. My panties are
pulled over my hips and I hold my breath.

"I didn't tell you to stop," Stéphan says, smacking my now bare ass.

I didn't realize I had stopped, but my focus had definitely shifted. I return to my task, sucking
hungrily, ignoring the way my jaw aches. Trying not to think about Stéphan behind me and
whatever he's planning. I fail, of course. The second he touches me, I forget what I'm doing. He
smacks me again and I make a sound low in my throat as he slides his fingers inside my dripping
pussy.

"So fucking wet," he says. "I love your pussy. Always so fucking wet for me."

He pulls them out, dragging them up to my ass. I shiver as he wipes my wetness on my puckered
hole. Jesus christ, it's so sensitive. My eyes roll back into my head as he pushes something against
it. Is he fucking my ass again? A button clicks and whatever is pressed against my ass begins to
vibrate.

That is definitely NOT his dick. Holy fuck.

"Keep sucking or I'll stop," he says, pushing the vibrating device inside a little.

I can't. I can't focus on anything but what he's doing. I try, but I just can't. I finally manage to get in
a few strokes up and down the dick in my mouth and he pushes it a little deeper, stretching me. It
feels so good. Fuck, it feels amazing. He stops and I realize I have stopped again. God, this is
impossible. Now he's teasing both of us. David with my mouth and me with whatever he's got
vibrating inside me.

"Such a bad girl," Stéphan says.

He smacks my ass again and I resume sucking. He keeps spanking me, each swat landing when I
least expect it. He spanks me until I think I won't be able to take any more and then his fingers
massage the heat away. I wonder what my ass looks like. If it looks as hot as it feels. He begins
again, spanking me harder after each mini massage. God, it's so good. It's so fucking good.

I'm dying. I can't handle it. It's too much. Poor David and his dick. I resolve to focus on what I'm
doing and for a minute or so, I manage, ignoring the toy and it's vibrations. Ignoring my red and
throbbing ass and Stéphan's hand as it continues the spanking he promised me.

Stéphan pushes the toy deeper, past the little ring of resistance and my eyes roll back in my head. I
moan, once again distracted. It's incredibly erotic. My pussy is literally dripping, the liquid
evidence of my pleasure dripping down my thighs, tickling as it snakes down my legs.

"You like that don't you?" he says, the sound of a zipper capturing my attention. "Such a needy,
greedy slut, pussy wet and dripping. Can't concentrate. Can't suck. Can't even think."

God, yes. I move my head up and down, trying to focus on David's dick, making a point of
ignoring the sounds coming from behind me.

"I'm going to fuck you now," Stéphan says, the head of his cock brushing against my wet slit, the
vibrating toy still inside my ass. "I'm going to shove my dick so deep inside you, fuck you until you
can't remember your own name. That's what you want isn't it? My dick buried inside your pussy,
driving you crazy."

I moan. Fuck, I can't help it. That's exactly what I want. God, I want it so bad.

"I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk," he says, still teasing me with the head of his cock,
rubbing it against my clit. "Till you can't move or think or breathe. And then... I'm gonna give you
to David to lay out on this table and do with you how he wants, take his revenge on you for this
pathetic attempt of a blow job and how you've teased him unmercilessly. Maybe he'll fuck this
pretty ass of yours, leave you laying on the table a messy pile of sweat and cum."

"Fuck," David growls. "Get on with it then you sadistic fuck. You're driving me crazy."

"You love it," Stéphan says. "Don't even pretend you don't."

His knees knock against mine, spreading them until my panties dig into the flesh of my thighs and
pushing me off balance. He grabs my hair again, winding it around his hand as he forces himself
inside me, pushing me down David's dick with a firm pressure on my head.

Fuckkkkkkkk. I try to scream, but David's dick is in my throat again. Stéphan thrusts, stretching my
pussy around his dick, so fucking fat. God, I'd forgotten this. How it feels for him to push his way
inside me, inch by torturous inch. His dick is so god damned fat. My pussy clenches around him,
my body tightening in anticipation of an orgasm already. He's not even all the way in me yet and
I'm already aching to come.
"God, you're so fucking tight," he says, his teeth clenched. "And so fucking wet. I love your pussy.
God, I fucking love your pussy."

He let's go of my hair and grabs hold of both shoulders, using it for leverage as he shoves himself
all the way inside me. I do scream then, feeling him fill me up completely, the vibrations from
whatever toy he shoved inside me still driving me crazy. God he's so big. He's so deep inside me.
Hitting the back of me.

His pace is punishing and I lose all sense. I open my mouth, letting the motion of him ramming
inside me set the pace for whatever David is getting from me. It isn't much. I want to feel bad
about it but I can't think. Every nerve ending is alight, overloading my brain.

"Play with your clit," he says.

I can barely hear over the sound of his flesh pounding against mine and the squishy sounds my
pussy makes as he does what he promised. He shoves deep, folding his body against mine to growl
in my ear.

"I said play with your fucking clit you useless whore," he whispers, his voice so low it makes me
think of a tiger or a lion. Maybe a wolf. "What good are you if you don't do what I fucking tell you?
I want to feel you come on my cock. Want to feel your pussy spasm around me, gripping me,
milking me."

He grabs my hand where it rests on David's thigh and pushes it between my legs. I can't think.
Can't even move. He rubs my clit with my fingers, and I think I'm going to combust. On the spot.

"Useless, pathetic whore," he breathes into my ear, pulling his dick out and slamming it back into
me. "Can't suck David's dick. Can't even play with your own pussy without me. You need me.
Need my cock so deep inside you, you can feel it in your belly. My fingers guiding your hands."

My legs start to shake, an orgasm building as my body tightens. David's dick slips out of my mouth
and I can't make myself care.

"Look at you," he bites out as he shoves deep, holding himself inside me and stalling my fingers.
"You're so close, but I didn't tell you to come yet. Didn't give you permission."

He reaches out with his other hand taking David's cock in his hand and stroking it.

"Look at how hard he is," Stéphan says. "But do you care? No. You only care about yourself and
your aching pussy. I don't think you deserve to come. As bad as I want it, you've done nothing to
earn it."

"Please," I beg. "Please, sir. Please, please, please, please let me cum. God. Just fuck me. Please
fuck me. I'm dying. I need it. I need it so bad, sir. I'm so close."

He pulls back and slams into me but again he stays that way, buried deep as he continues jacking
David's dick. My eyes are glued to his hand with his painted fingernails, the way he squeezes
David's dick. It's so hot. So fucking hot.

"Then play with your fucking pussy," he growls out.

He releases my fingers and I press them against my clit as he grips my hip, his fingernails digging
into the soft flesh as he begins thrusting, long, deep, punishing strokes of his cock that pound
against my cervix.
"You wanna come?" he asks. "You wanna come all over my fucking dick while I fuck you like a
worthless whore? While I jack the dick you're too useless to suck?"

"Yes," I scream, his words washing over me like... well I don't know what but whatever it is, it's
fucking delicious. I love the way he talks to me when he fucks me. So fucking hot. "God, yes. Yes.
Yes. Yes. Please, sir."

He thrusts over and over, pulling out of me and slamming deep until I can't even make words. Only
sounds. Sounds that are lost in the echoes of skin slapping skin. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkkk. I'm going
to come. God, I'm going to come so fucking hard. I press my fingers harder against my clit. The
more I tighten, the more the vibrations from that thing in my ass, ratchet up the building orgasm.

And then he stops. He shoves himself deep inside me and just stops.

"No, no, no," I cry, desperate now. "No, please. Please don't stop. God, please, sir. Please fuck me.
Please fucking fuck me sir. I'll do anything. I need it."

"Liar," David says. "You can't even suck my dick."

"I will," I say, looking up at him with desperate eyes. "I'll do it right. I'll do it better. Just let me
come. God, please just let me come."

I stroke my clit, but the orgasm is just out of reach. My whine becomes a growl as I try and try to
push myself over the edge to no avail. It seems to last forever, this pause inside of me. I realize he's
edging me. That he's doing this on purpose. Stéphan draws back and thrusts inside of me, once,
twice. I keep expecting him to stop, but he doesn't.

"You like that?" he asks. "Like that cock filling you up. God you're so fucking tight. I'm gonna
come so deep inside you. Gonna come so hard I bust the condom and fill you up with it till it leaks
down your legs. That's what you want? You want my come leaking down your legs while you
writhe on my cock? Say it. SAY IT."

"Yes," I scream, my words chopped as he pounds into me so hard and fast I think I can see stars.
"Yes, I want it. God. I want your come inside me, dripping out of me. Filling me up. I don't care
just PLEASE let me fucking come. Let me come. Let me come. Let me come."

I keep saying it over and over until the words run together and become just another sound. My
fingers fly over my clit and I wonder if I can even hold back the orgasm that's building.

"God yes," he says, slamming deep. "Come. Fucking come, baby. God damn. I'm gonna come.
Come with me baby. Come with me. Fuck."

He slams into me once. Twice. And then I'm coming. Harder than I ever have, falling from a
heretofore unreached height. I don't even know if I can survive it. It's too good. Pleasure explodes
through me, my pussy convulsing, squeezing his cock as it spasms inside me. He growls with
every thrust and the sounds just push me higher.

I buck and writhe beneath him, losing my grip on David's thigh and falling against him. Stéphan
grabs my other hip, and shoves deep, his fingernails digging into me until I'm pretty sure I'm
bleeding but can't seem to care. Every thrust catapults me back, wave upon wave of pleasure
spilling through me and meaningless sounds coming from my throat.

"So good," Stéphan says, each word punctuated by a violent thrust inside me. "So fucking good."

He collapses against my back, breathing hard, his face sliding against a sheen of sweat. I brush my
clit one last time, feeling another convulsion rock through me before letting my hand drop away.
We fall into David's lap, pleasure spent. It feels like I don't have any bones, my muscles heavy.

The toy is still vibrating inside me, creating little aftershock orgasms as I bask in afterglow. David
lifts my chin and I have to work hard to focus on his face. All I can see for a moment is his dick,
still covered with my spit. Finally he comes into focus, his gaze predatory.

"My turn," he says.

 David

Stupid restraint. I have one hand free and I use it to grip Y/N's throat, so slender and slim, lifting
her onto my lap and pulling her close enough to kiss. I am crazed. Violent as I claim her mouth.
The visual of Stéphan fucking her, edging her, basically on my lap has driven me past any and all
rational thought. We kiss for several minutes, if you can even call it kissing. It feels feral, savage,
consuming.

She still has those fucking panties around her thighs. I reach down and rip them off her, tearing
them to shreds and pulling her against me. My aching dick presses against her navel like it will
make it's own hole if I don't fuck her soon. I snake my hand around behind her neck, tearing our
mouths apart and pushing her to the side so I can look at Stéphan over her shoulder.

"Get these fucking restraints off me before I break the god damned chair," I growl.

Yep. That's the mood. Break the chair, break Y/N, break everything. I grab her throat again,
running a thumb down her jugular, squeezing. I pull her close, smashing her tits against my chest
and biting her jaw as Stéphan fumbles with the buckle around my wrist. Y/N moans and I ache to
answer it. Soon. Just wait, baby. I just need a minute. I feel the restraint release and stand in the
same moment, lifting her with me.

I'd like to say I lay her out on the table tenderly, but I barely get my hand behind her head before it
slams against the wood. She reaches for me, but I grab her hands, holding them above her head. It's
MY turn and I will make her as crazed as I am. God, the way she'd begged while he edged her. It
feels like he edged us both. My teeth close on her throat, sucking hard. Y/N writhes against me,
against my dick, arching her back as I lick and suck and bite my way to her shoulder.

"God, yes," she cries. "Please, David."

Not enough. Not yet. I want more. I palm her breast, her nipple already hard when I pinch it
between my fingers through the lace of her bra. Her back arches even more and I drag my mouth
down her chest. The skin reddens as my five o'clock shadow scrapes her tender flesh. I don't care. I
want her body to bear the mark of my touch. Her ass is already red. That's fine. I'll take the rest. I
bite her breast through the lace covered bra, a possessive growl, squeezing out from between my
teeth.

It's been too long. Too long since I've had her beneath me. Too long since I've felt her body
respond to me. I'm aching to be inside her, but I need to draw it out. Need to make her scream for
me the way she had for Stéphan. It isn't jealousy. Or even competition. Just a primal need for my
woman to ache for me, need me, come for me.

She strains against where I hold her arms captive, but I don't release them. It adds to the frenzy and
I love it. Her head bangs against the table in frustration. Oh yeah, that's exactly what I want.

"So there is something left for me," I growl, letting her nipple slip from between my teeth. I move
to the other, biting it through the lace. Fucking lace. I jerk the material down below her tits,
framing them and it's almost as entrancing as it had been with her skin showing through the
material. God, I want her. Want to shove my dick so deep inside her. I reach down and stroke it,
squeezing a drop of precum to the tip and painting her thigh with it. Just wait. Fucking wait,
dammit. Not yet. Not fucking yet.

It would be so easy to slam inside her. Fuck, I want her so bad. My need to bury myself inside her
is overwhelming. I let go of my dick before it makes the decision for me, moving my fingers to
find her pussy. It's soaking wet. When my fingers slide inside her, I groan. She grips me tightly and
I realize she's already swollen. I tell myself to go easy, but I can't. My fingers hook, pressing on her
g-spot as I rub my thumb back and forth on her clit as the little toy continues vibrating in her ass.

I'd forgotten about that. I can feel it and I can't wait to feel those vibrations with my dick inside her.

"Oh god, David," she says, her head thrashing back and forth as I bite her nipple and use my fingers
in her creamy cunt. Y/N screams and my blood boils at the sound. Fuck. I feel like a monster and I
don't care. I want to destroy her and the sound of her scream just makes it worse.

"That's right, give it to me," I growl. "You want to come all over my fingers, don't you."

"Yes, please," she cries.

Her hips buck, legs wrapping around my waist.

"Already so close," I growl. "You want to come? You want to come for me like a good little slut?"

"Yes, yes, please," she cries.

"Too bad," I say.

I stall my fingers and wait, licking at her breast.

"David, PLEASE," she yells.

I pull my fingers out, raising them to my mouth. There's the faintest hint of latex as I lick them
clean, but it's mostly her. Her scent washes over me, the taste of her driving me crazy. I lose the
battle and release her hands, dropping to my knees in front of the table. I'd wanted to hold back. To
take my time, but I can't. I need to taste her. NEED it. I shove her thighs apart and push my face
between them, my lips closing around her swollen clit as I push my fingers back inside.

"Oh god, yes," she cries, her hands tangling in my hair, trying to push me closer. "Please, god, yes."

I stop again, holding myself just above her clit, fingers stilling as she writhes.

"You want to come on my face, baby?" I ask. "You want to cum with my fingers inside you and
your messy cunt juices all over my face?"

"YES," she screams. "David, please. I need it. Fuck."

I flick her clit with my tongue, but nothing more.

"David, please, please, please, please...," she moans, her hips lifting off the table, using her feet
against my back for leverage.

"Shame," I say. "I want you to come on my dick."

"You might need this," Stéphan says, producing a square, gold packet. I guess he'd been watching,
waiting. I turn to look at him, releasing her thigh and grabbing for it.

"Don't think this absolves you of anything," I bite out, pulling the packet up to my mouth and
tearing it open with my teeth. I'm going to get him back for all the torture and teasing. He just
doesn't know it yet. He raises an eyebrow at me, but I ignore him. Dominant, sadistic fuck. I am
going to catch him with his guard down. So help me god, I'm going to dominate him one of these
days, whatever it takes.

I turn back to Y/N, pulling my fingers from her pussy to put the condom on my aching dick. It
flexes in my hand. I stand, holding the base of my dick and stare at Y/N. She's so fucking sexy.
Spread out on the table, legs open wide, her tits framed by the wires of her lace bra, the material
bunched beneath them, lifting them like an offering. One hand is tangled in her hair, squeezing it in
rhythm with her other hand as it glides over her clit.

I smack her hand, the contact sharp.

"Did I tell you to do that?" I ask. "Did I tell you to come without me?"

"David, please," she begs.

She looks at me then, standing above her, my cock covered with a condom. The look in her eyes
saps the last of my strength. It is hungry, panicked and almost as feral as I feel. She's looking at me
like I'm food, like she's starving and I'm fucking food. Her gaze locks on my dick and she licks her
upper lip, biting it between her teeth before raising her eyes to mine.

"Put that inside me," she growls.

I take a step forward, letting it rest on her slit, the head brushing her clit.

"David," she bites out, louder now. "David, give it to me, please. I NEED you to fuck me."

"Poor princess," I say. "You need it?"

She locks her legs around my hips, pulling me closer. My cock slides against her clit, but there's no
pressure, just the barest brush.

"DAVID," she screams. She throws her head back, her neck taut, the tendons flexing evocatively.
The sight is pure sex, making my cock flex.

"You want it?" I say, raising an eyebrow, drawing on some primitive, caveman part of my brain.
"Beg for it. Beg me to fuck you. To fill you up with my cock. To give you what you need. Fucking
beg if you want it. Let me hear how much you need it."

"Please, please, please, David," she says, lifting her hips off the table. "Please fuck me. Please.
God, PLEASE fucking put your dick in me. Fuck. Come on, David. Please. Please fuck me. Use
me. Hurt me. Whatever, just put your dick in me."

I slam my hands against the table, one on each side of her head. She jumps, lifting her eyes to mine.
"Pathetic," I sneer. "I don't think you want it at all."

My dick slides against her pelvic bone and her head falls back in pleasure, her eyes rolling back
until I can barely see them. I scrape my jaw against hers, the short hairs scratching her, my teeth
nipping at her chin. She grabs hold of my forearm with one hand, reaching between us with the
other to grab my cock.

"FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME," she screams. "Jesus, David. Please. I can't take it anymore. I need
it. I'm dying. Fucking dying. GOD!"

Y/N strokes me roughly, a groan coming from my lips unbidden.

"Bitch," I squeeze out from between closed teeth. "Let. Go."

I grab her throat again, squeezing the sides where the blood flows rather than her windpipe. Her
mouth opens, a shallow breath catching in her throat as her eyes flutter.

"Then FUCK me," she says, meeting my eyes. Her eyes unfocus, but she holds onto my dick. I
smile despite myself.

I bend closer, scraping my jaw against her cheek and putting my mouth next to her ear.

"Let go and I'll fuck you, princess," I whisper, nuzzling her ear, nipping at the lobe.

"You promise?" she asks, her voice soft coming from far away.

"You're going to pass out if you don't let go," I say, ignoring her question.

"I don't care," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Please. Please, fuck me."

"I can't until you let go, baby," I say. "Let go of my dick and I'll give you what you want. I'll give
you everything."

She pulls on it again, stroking twice despite the fact that she's barely conscious. Impudent brat. I
lean up to look at her.

"You better," she says, her eyes fluttering shut. She let's go and loses consciousness.

I release her throat, rubbing my dick against her clit, but nothing more. I won't fuck her while she's
unconscious. No, I'll torture myself waiting until she comes to, rubbing my cock against her wet
slit. It only takes a few seconds.

Her eyes open wide and I plunge into her, shoving myself inside her so deep, burying my cock as I
grind against her clit with my pelvic bone. Fucking hell, but she feels so fucking good. And the toy.
Fuck... it's vibrating my whole dick.

"Yes, yes, yes, yesssssss," she says, the sounds running together until it's more of a moan, not even
whole words, just sounds and hissing. "God, yes. Fuck."

"You like that don't you?" I ask as my hips thrust hard and fast. "Like my cock filling you up,
fucking the shit out of you."

She cries out, grabbing onto my shoulders to try and meet my thrusts. Her legs are shaking as a
steady burst of sounds come from her throat, her eyes frantic as her nails dig into me whenever they
land in one place long enough. She's so fucking close. Desperate to come. Insane with her need
coiled so tight.

I grind against her clit, bruising the tender flesh as I stroke inside her.

"I'm gonna come," she says, her body going rigid.

"Not yet, bitch," I say, jerking my dick out of her. "Not fucking yet."

I flip her over, crushing her chest against the table, her head turning to one side. I put a hand on her
face, holding her there just like that as I push back into her, going so fucking deep. She screams in
frustration, her hands reaching to try and grab for anything to hold on to, but there's nothing. It only
adds to the frenzy, her hips bucking as she dries desperately to find some friction against her clit.

I pound into her swollen pussy, so tight and wet as she grips me, screaming each time I hit the back
of her, ass warm against me where Stéphan spanked her, vibrations from the little toy making my
eyes cross as they pulse through my cock. It's so good. So fucking good.

"Yeah you like that?" I ask, slamming into her. "Like me stuffing you full of my cock? Edging you
so hard? Fucking you like a little whore? That's right, princess. Take it. You fucking take it. You
wanted it. You begged for it. That's what you wanted right? Me stuffing your insides. My cock so
deep inside you."

I lift her leg up onto the table, keeping one on the floor, spreading them wide so I can go deeper.
Pounding her into the table, giving me something to grip onto, my fingernails digging into her
thigh, mirroring the marks Stéphan left on her hips. I let go of her face, grabbing onto her shoulder
with my other hand, using it for leverage.

"Beg, baby," I yell. "You wanna come, then beg for it. Beg for it while I fuck you. Beg for me to
make you come with my dick so deep inside you."

"Oh god," she cries, barely able to make words. "Please, please, please, please, pleassssse..."

Her begs all run together, a constant stream of sounds from her mouth as I slam into her swollen,
messy cunt, gripping me so tight, juices running down her thights, her orgasm right there for the
taking.

"You wanna come?" I yell. "You wanna come for me?"

"David, yes, PLEASSSSSSSSSE," she screams, fingernails digging into the wood of the table, legs
shaking, pussy clenching in tiny little tremors that pulse around my cock.

I pull out of her, flip her onto her back, lifting one leg onto my shoulder and slam back into her,
grinding against her clit with the weight of my body as I thrust deep, over and over.

"Come baby," I say, grabbing her face and making her look at me. "Fucking come for me then.
Come with my cock so deep inside you."

I thrust hard, pulling myself out until only the tip remains and thrusting back into her, the sound of
my flesh meeting hers so satisfying as she digs her nails into my shoulders and screams. Her pussy
spasms, squeezing my dick so tight as I kiss her mouth, swallowing her sounds as she bucks
beneath me, her pussy convulsing with each thrust of my cock, my own orgasm pulling growls
from my throat as I thrust... so... deep.

"So fucking good," I bite out. "Your pussy's so fucking good, baby. God, I fucking LOVE your
fucking pussy."

I grab her shoulders using them for leverage, pounding into her. My orgasm lasts forever and it's
still not enough. My dick doesn't soften. So I don't stop.

"You fucking take it," I say, slapping her face. "I'm not done with you."

Her eyes roll back and she makes this sound that goes straight to my dick, wiping away any thought
that I might stop. I grab her chin holding her in place as I thrust over and over.

"I'm gonna fuck you forever," I growl. "Use your body till there's nothing left."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, her body clenching around me, another orgasm washing over her as she
gushes on my dick.

"That's right, make a mess," I say, grinding the words out between clenched teeth. "You like that
don't you. You like that dick so deep inside you. Fucking you. Using you. Making you into a toy
for my pleasure. Useless for anything else. You're a fucking whore, aren't you. A collection of
holes for my dick."

"Oh god," she cries. "Yes. Fuck. Jesus. All my holes. They're yours. You know they're yours."

"I think I'm jealous," Stéphan says. I turn to look at him and find him stroking his cock, once again
hard. "If hers are yours, then yours are mine. That seems fair, don't you think?"

Y/N waves a hand in the air. "I meant both of yours," she says, struggling for breath.

"He knows," I growl. "He's teasing. I think."

"Of course I am," Stéfan says, a smile in his voice.

I turn back to Y/N wondering if he means to have me or her and deciding I want him inside me
again. I know I said I would dominate him and I mean to at some point. But right now... Fuck. I
want to feel him inside me while I fuck Y/N. Since my dick has decided it doesn't need a break, I
may as well make the most of it.

I unsnap my pants and pull out of her, pushing my pants and underwear down around my ankles
and stepping out of them. Y/N draws a few ragged breaths, chest heaving, eyeing me through her
lashes. God, I STILL want to break her. Want to fuck her until she passes out. Until we both do. I
pull my shirt over my head and grab Y/N's hips, lifting her legs to put her ankles on my shoulder as
I push into her again. Slowly this time.

"Take what you want then," I toss out over my shoulder, nibbling her ankle, leaving behind a little
bruise and the imprint of my teeth. I rub her clit with the pad of my thumb and she shudders as
Stéphan comes up behind me. I feel his presence before his touch. Feel the heat of him as he
comes close. I hold my breath, waiting.

"I have something for you too," he says, rubbing something liquid between my ass cheeks.

I suck in a breath at the contact and then he's pushing something inside, twisting it back and forth,
making me groan. There's a click and it starts to vibrate, my eyes rolling back in my head. He clicks
it two more times, the vibrations increasing each time.

"Fuckkkk," I growl, thrusting unconsciously into Y/N's pussy.

"You didn't think I only bought anal toys for her did you?" Stéphan asks, his voice coming from
near my ear, a hand falling onto my shoulder.

Oh god, I can't think... Can't answer... Can't do anything. I struggle even to breathe as he pushes the
toy in and out of me, stretching me open. I try to focus on Y/N but it's impossible and I understand
now the game he played with her while she sucked my dick. The same game he's playing with me
now.

"Stéphan," I choke out, his name sounding gravelly as it passes my lips. "Oh, god, Stéphan."

He pushes my hips forward, effectively sheathing my cock deep in Y/N, toying with us both as he
keeps her on edge with my dick inside her and pushes me past any edge I've ever known was
possible.

"Yesssssss," he says, drawing out the word into a long hiss.

I bite my lip, pushing Y/N's ankles off my shoulders, spreading her thighs so I can lay on her chest.
It's too much. I can't take it. It's so good. So fucking good. Why? Why hasn't he used this thing on
me until now? Fucking dick. I'd tell him so, but god, if he stopped right now... I think I'd die. My
head falls, resting on the table beside Y/N's, my breath coming fast. I'd said he could take what he
wanted and damn if he couldn't. I'm putty in his hands as useless now as Y/N had been sucking my
dick.

"Oooh, you like that," she says, her voice breathy in my ear.

"Shut up," I say, embarrassed for some reason I can't really place.

"It's okay," she says, turning her head towards mine, kissing my mouth. I grab hold of her like a life
line, letting her swallow my moans as Stéphan fucks my ass with some kind of vibrating toy.

"You like it?" Stéphan asks.

"Yes," I say, the sound muffled by Y/N's mouth pressed against mine.

"You want more?" he asks.

"Oh god," I say. "There's more?"

I can't. I can't even take this much. It feels too good. Like a drug. Something forbidden. He pulls
the toy out in a smooth motion and I realize it's a series of balls, making my ass open and close as
each vibrating ball comes out. I growl, my pleasure ratcheting so high. Fuck. I know what it is now.
I've seen these before. Used them on women before. I had no idea they felt like this. Vibrating anal
beads.

Stéphan begins pushing them back inside and my eyes flutter. God. I'm helpless. Useless. All I can
do is feel. My breath stalls in my throat as I wait for him to pull them out again, to make me feel
that again. But he doesn't. He just waits.

"Stéphan please," I beg, hating myself for doing it, but unable to stop. Ok, I don't really hate
myself. I've begged him before. Probably will again. But it's so very different from how I usually
behave. Foreign. "Please, Stéphan."

He pulls it out again and my legs shake with how good it feels.

"You ready for my dick?" Stéphan asks. "For me to replace this toy with my cock and take what
you offered?"

I nod, unable to speak. I want him inside me. Want to feel him split me open. I wait, holding my
breath again, but he doesn't move.

"Do it," I say. "Fuck me, Stéphan."

I feel his cock press against me. God. My dick is so hard inside Y/N and I'm dying for him to fuck
me. To push into me and make me thrust into her. I need it. I want it. To be a pivot point between
them. To make her come when he makes me come. For all of us to devolve into a frenzy of
pleasure and pain.

"Jesus, Stéphan," I say as he waits for god knows what. "Fucking fuck me. Stop teasing me and put
your dick inside me."

His chuckle sounds evil. Like a villain in a bond movie or something.

"But it's cute, making you beg," he says, his fingertips gripping my hips.

Dick. Always pushing the envelope. I lift off of Y/N, just an inch or so, enough to push my body
back into him. I expect him to pull away, but he doesn't, instead letting me impale myself on his
dick. As my dick slips slowly out of Y/N, his slips into me, the sensation making my knees weak. I
hold myself up with my arms, my legs already bent so I could reach the table to fuck Y/N. They're
useless now as leverage, my knees almost on the floor. Sometimes I hate being so tall.

I push my dick back into Y/N and Stéphan slips out of me. I do it again, pushing back, taking more
of him this time. When his dick slips past the ring of resistance, I shove myself backwards, my dick
slipping out of Y/N as the force of me burying his dick in my ass makes him take a step back,
apparently catching him off guard. Serves him right.

"Now fuck me," I say, eager to feel the long stroke he used on me before.

I reach down and grab my dick, positioning it at her pussy and thrust into her, Stéphan's dick
sliding out of me in a delicious pleasure that sends a shiver down my spine. For a moment there is
only Y/N. I fuck her hard, pounding into her, the primal frenzy that I'd felt before beginning to take
me over. I'd thought with all the distraction she'd be less into it. But she's dripping wet, moaning
and whispering naughty things in my ear about Stéphan fucking my ass.

My dick is so hard. So fucking hard. I go feral, compelled once again to destroy her fucking pussy.
I cover her mouth with my hand and shift onto one arm, thrusting deep, whispering to her now.

"Shut up and take this fucking dick slut" I say. "You begged for this. You need it. Need to feel me
deep inside you. God, I'm gonna come so fucking deep inside you. You like that don't you. That's
what you fucking want."

Stéphan is suddenly there, pressing inside me and I lose my tempo, lose the rhythm of it. You'd
think this would push my orgasm further away but it's the opposite. I am already close, so close.
Y/N attempts to breathe and I let her take a ragged breath before covering her mouth again with my
hand.

"Are you gonna come, my little whore?" I ask. "Come for me. Come with me. I can't last. Please
come, baby. God, come with me."

I let go of her mouth, pushing myself up so my pelvic bone will grind against her clit as Stéphan
rails into me from behind. God, it's so fucking good. I don't know how I ever lived without this. So
much fucking pleasure.

"Do it," Y/N says. "Come in me. God, I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come so
fucking hard."

She bucks beneath me, her pussy spasming around my cock as her eyes roll and she throws her
head back. I bite down on her throat, leaving a little bruise as I thrust hard, my own orgasm hitting
me mid-stroke, forcing me to slam into her hard and deep and slow as I come so hard I see stars.

Stéphan was apparently waiting for this. He holds my hips in place with the weight of his body as
he, too, loses himself in his orgasm, growling in my ear as he shoves his cock so deep inside me.

For several minutes all we can do is try to breathe, collapsed in a pile on the table. It's heaven being
between them. Everything I never knew I wanted and can no longer live without.

I'd tell them if I could breathe. Maybe later.

 Stéphan

"What are the chances of getting a repeat performance of the bubble bath?" Y/N asks drowsily, her
eyes half closed.

"Depends whether or not you can behave yourself," I say, running a finger absently over the curve
of her hip.

It had taken me awhile to recover, but I'd stirred a few minutes ago, enough to move us all to the
bed and get everyone undressed. Tables are good for sex, not so much for resting. Poor Y/N had
been trapped beneath David and me both for several minutes. Her shoulders and back are probably
sore.

"Last time started out well enough," I say.

"If I remember correctly," David says, his voice muffled by the pillow covering half of his face. "It
ended pretty well too."

"So bathtime?" Y/N asks.

"Not for me," David says. "I need sleep. That was crazy intense. You two go."

He turns his head into the pillow and promptly begins to snore. I grin. He's right. It had been crazy
intense. I love knowing that we wore him out so completely. Although, admittedly, some of that is
probably the adrenaline lull. It's pretty typical after a fight.

"Guess it's just you and me princess," I say, pushing up off the bed and pulling her with me.

"That's okay," she says. "I like spending time with you. Just us."

Her words turn the grin on my face into a full blown smile. I bend down, wrapping my arms
around her and squeezing her to my chest. God, I love her. I love her so fucking much. My
thoughts return to the fight in the park. If that dude had hit her, I'd have killed him. I still haven't
convinced myself not to track him down from area surveillance videos but for now, I'll focus on
the bath.

"I like spending time with you too," I say, scooping her up into my arms and walking to the
bathroom. She lets out a little yelp of surprise, but immediately wraps her arms around my neck,
resting her head on my shoulder.

I set her down on the tiled floor and reach for the bag of scented epson salt from our first bath. I'd
only used about half so there's plenty left. We still need bubbles, though. I grab her body wash and
squeeze out a generous amount into the spray from the faucet as the water shoots into the tub.
Bubbles instantly begin to form and collect on the top of the water. Perfect.

I climb in, leaning against the back wall of the tub, expecting Y/N to climb in between my legs. She
doesn't. She turns to grab a wash cloth and the sponge off the edge of the sink.

"Scoot up," she says as she steps back to the tub. "I get the back this time."

I narrow my eyes at her but she puts a hand on her hip and stares back at me, somehow looking
casually sexy as she stands there naked in all her glory.
"You said I have to behave myself," she says. "I'll never be able to do that if that monster between
your legs is pressing into my back."

I try to fight it, but the corner of my mouth raises in a little smirk. Monster. What a delightful
nickname for my dick.

"You didn't seem to mind before," I say, teasing her.

"I wasn't trying to behave before," she says.

"Fair enough," I say, sliding forward in the giant tub. "You can sit in the back."

Y/N climbs in behind me, sliding her legs around me. I pull my knees up, bending them so I can
rest my arms and head against them while she gets situated. From the corner of my eye, I can see
her lay the washcloth on the edge of the tub.

"That feels good," I say when she sponges water on my shoulders.

She dips it back into the water, repeating the action several times. Her fingertips trace several scars
on my back as I silently plead with her not to ask me about them. It's not that I don't want her to
know or to keep anything from her. I just don't want to spoil the mood. Surprisingly, she doesn't
ask, just lays a light kiss on each one and continues spongeing the hot water over my shoulders.

"I need to ask your help with something," I say, my voice quiet. I had figured I would have a
chance at some point to ask, but the timing is perfect.

"Sure," she says immediately. "Anything."

"David's birthday is tomorrow," I whisper. "And I want to do something for him."

Y/N gasps, dropping the sponge into the water and putting her hand over her mouth.

"I can't believe I forgot," she says. "He told me when we first met and it completely slipped my
mind."

"It's been a rather crazy couple of weeks," I say. "Pretty understandable. It's okay."

"While we're on the subject of birthdays," she says, picking up the sponge and squeezing it over
my shoulders again. "What's yours?"

I look at her over my shoulder. "You've got a while," I say. "It's not till December."

"December what?" she asks.

I sigh already having a feeling where this is going. Seems I'm determined to ruin the mood in some
way or another no matter what. "The 24th."

"Aww," she says. "You're a Christmas baby. Wait, you aren't Jewish are you? Or some other
religion that doesn't celebrate Christmas?"

I chuckle. She's so cute. I consider teasing her and claiming to be Jewish, but decide against it.

"No," I say. "I'm not really religious, but I think I celebrate Christmas. Never really had anyone to
share it with so it's always seemed like just another day to me. We had a tree at the group home,
but the only time we got presents was when someone was thinking about adopting us or if someone
donated a bunch of stuff."
"That's awful," she says, her voice soft. "This year we're going to make it special. I promise.
Christmas and your birthday both. We can bake homemade cookies and fudge. Sing christmas
carols. Decorate a tree. Maybe we'll make homemade ornaments or something. And presents. Lots
of presents."

We've all committed to each other, hundreds of thousands of dollars spent to ensure we could do it
safely. Yet hearing that she's already planning something months from now really gets to me. It
feels amazing.

"All right, all right," I say. "Let's focus on David's birthday first."

"Yeah, I'll have to think about what to do for him," she says. "Tell me your thing."

I take a deep breath, wondering why my pulse is already racing.

"I'm going to let him top me," I say. "Not just fuck me, but take the dominant role. I am going to
see if maybe there's a switch in here somewhere and play submissive for him. It's something he's
wanted for awhile. Since the beginning really."

Y/N doesn't say anything for several seconds. I turn to look at her and find her jaw hanging open.

"Is it dumb?" I ask, letting her glimpse a rare moment of insecurity. "I haven't ever let anyone
dominate me. He'd be my first. More than anything I can think of, it would show him how much I
trust him. And... well... he's given me so many of his firsts."

Her lip quivers and I grow confused.

"Did I say something wrong?" I ask. "Are you upset about me giving him this?"

She quickly shakes her head, wiping at her eyes brimming with tears.

"No, Stéphan," she says. "God, no. It's just beautiful. I love it. He'll love it. I mean it's sex, so of
course he will, but the sex isn't really the gift. The gift is your trust and vulnerability. Wait...
You're... you're gonna let me watch right? You have to let me watch. I promise I'll be good. It will
be like I'm not even there. A fly on the wall."

I laugh, pulling her out from behind me and into my lap, nuzzling her neck. She giggles and the
sound reverberates through the room, echoing. I have the strongest urge to tickle her, but I
remember that she hates it and stifle the urge.

"You perverted little fiend," I say, letting the short hairs that have grown on my chin scratch her
neck. "You're obsessed."

"What?" she asks. "It's hot watching you two together. Like... surface of the sun hot. AND seeing
him dominate you? Come on. You wouldn't deprive me of that. I know you wouldn't."

"Well no," I say. "I wouldn't. Besides, I need your help getting everything set up properly. You
realize it means I trust you too, right?"

"Yeah, of course," she says, kissing me on the mouth and pecking all over my cheeks in her
exuberance. It's too cute. I can't help but grin at her. Eventually she stops, looking at me directly.
"What do you need help setting up?"

"Well I'll need you to help tie me up, for one thing," I say. "And to help me get rid David for long
enough to do so."
"Wait," she says. "I can't."

I look at her, my head tilting in curiosity.

"Why not?" I say.

"As much as I would LOVE to tie you up," she stops, shaking her head sadly. "God, I can't believe
I'm saying this. Ughhhh. David's lucky I love him so much. God... this sucks. Stéphan... you can't
deprive him of the act of actually restraining you. Think about it. I'm sure he'd love to walk into
the room and see you laid out for him, but think about what his eyes will look like when you let
him do it himself. Plus, then he gets to arrange you how he wants."

She sighs and I realize she's right. It has to be David who does it. It will mean more that way and
be better for him. She's pouting and it's adorable. Her bottom lip sticks out and her lips are turned
down into a frown.

"Don't pout," I say, lifting her chin to lay a chaste kiss on her lips. "You're right. I'll let him do it.
And since you were so incredibly selfless... maybe I'll let you tie me up some other time."

Her eyes sparkle. They literally sparkle.

"Really?" she asks, biting her lip.

I kiss the end of her nose.

"Maybe, yeah" I say.

"Okay, okay," she says. "So what about this? I'll take him to pick out a cake and get some birthday
things so you can set everything up how you want it. What do you think?"

"That's good," Stéphan says. "Yeah, okay."

We fall silent for several beats.

"So... what are you going to give him?" I ask.

I settle her between my legs and begin spongeing her shoulders while she chews on her lip.

"It's so hard to give someone with money a present," she says. "Like... anything I could possibly
give him, he could buy himself."

"Not necessarily," I say, an idea forming.

"What?"she asks.

"What about that tik tok trend?" I ask. "The one where you paint a canvas and then paint your ass
and the back of one leg, then your other foot. And you sit down on the canvas, effectively painting
your ass. It's essentially a tasteful nude."

"I don't know," she says. "You think he'd like that?"

"For sure," I say. "He loves your ass. And it's not something he can just buy."

"Okay," she says. "But how are we going to do it."

"I'll call down to the concierge and have them deliver the supplies," I say. "Then when he goes to
sleep tonight, I'll help you. If you want. I mean if you want to do it by yourself that's fine. But if
you need help, I don't mind."

"That's great," she says, turning to wrap her arms around my neck. She lays her head on my
shoulder. "Thank you. And thank you for reminding me. God, I can't imagine how awful I'd feel if
I didn't have anything to give him."

"I probably should have mentioned something sooner," I say, kissing her temple. "Despite feeling
like I've known you forever, we really haven't been together that long. If he hadn't mentioned it to
you, it's unlikely you would even know tomorrow is his birthday."

"Speaking of...," she says, pulling away from me and looking up at me through her lashes. "You
haven't asked me mine. Neither has he for that matter."

I look at her, waiting for her to put it together. There's not really an easy way to say it. She sucks in
a breath, her jaw falling open.

"You already know," she says. "You both do. Wait. Did you guys hack me? How much do you
know?"

I feel my face flush. I guess I'd expected that David would have covered this with her at some
point.

"We wouldn't have brought you back with us to our base of operations without running a complete
check on you," I say. "David did a preliminary one before you two even met. At the time, he was
checking out everyone we could find on the front lines. When you got shot and he brought you
back to the parking garage he did a deep dive. He had to... For our safety. Don't be mad."

She stares at me and I feel the distance between us seem to grow. We're inches apart, but it feels
like there's a grand canyon between us now.

"You guys knew everything about me," she asks, the color draining from her face. "How deep is
deep? Did you look through my text messages? My emails? You're hackers. You know... what?
Everything I've ever put anywhere on the internet or electronically? How far back did you go?"

I lift my hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, but she recoils and it feels like she hit me. I
understand. I do. But it still hurts. I swallow the pain and focus on Y/N. I imagine it hurts for her
too. My hand drops into the water and I sigh.

"It wasn't like that," I say. "He checked your bank accounts and credit cards to be sure there weren't
any recent unexplained large deposits. Checked your social media accounts to be sure there was a
history and you weren't like a newly established person that didn't have any friends or posts. We
see that a lot with mercenaries and spooks. I promise you we didn't scour the internet to find out all
your secrets or information we could use against you."

It takes her a moment, but her eyes soften. My shoulders relax when she turns and leans against my
chest. I pick up the sponge and place it on her throat, squeezing it so the water runs down her chest.

"I'm sorry," she says. "It just surprised me. And for a minute... I don't know... I thought... For a
second, I thought maybe none of it was real. But that's stupid. I know better and I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I say, sliding the fingers of my other hand along her arm to link our fingers. "I can see
how easy it would be to think that. I can imagine how it would feel."

"You're so understanding," she says. "With me. With David. I'm pretty sure neither one of us
deserves you."

"I think it's because I care about you both so much that I try so hard to understand what you're
going through or how you're feeling," I say. "I promise you I'm not like... Saint Stéphan or
anything. Most people think I'm kind of a dick and it usually takes me a long time to open up to
people."

"Guess I'm extra lucky then," she says, squeezing my hand.

"Or I am," I say. "I feel like I won the lottery with you and David."

"Oh my god...," she says, splashing water at me. "Now you're just being ridiculous. If anyone won
the lottery it's me. Like... literally."

"We'll have to agree to disagree," I say, wrapping my arms around her. "I definitely am the
luckiest."

We recline against the wall of the tub and a comfortable silence ensues. My eyes get heavy,
muscles relaxing as I drift in that quiet space between dreams and being awake. I must doze off or
something because the next thing I know, Y/N is shaking my arm.

"Come on baby," she says. "The water is getting cold. Let's get out."

I shake awake, blinking a few times.

"Sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Y/N chuckles as she stands and steps over the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel.

"It's okay," she says. "It was a busy day. The picnic, the fight... The sex... Trust me, you deserve a
little shut eye. Besides, I fell asleep too. It's okay."

"I know, but I've got to call down to the concierge and get the art supplies for your painting," I say,
drying off quickly. "I don't want it to get too late."

She bites her lip.

"I hope it's not already too late," she says.

We exit the bathroom to find David still asleep. I head for the small office area near the door to
make my call and apologize for the late notice, promising a two hundred dollar tip if they can get
the materials I need within the next few hours. The concierge assures me they will do their best. I
ask that they knock rather than ring the bell to deliver the materials and hang up the phone.

Y/N and I sit on the couch and watch an episode of Criminal Minds while we wait. I can see her
growing more and more nervous and cross my fingers that this works out. We start a second
episode and get through the opening credits before there's a knock at the door. Y/N fist pumps and
mouths YES! I can't help but grin and shake my head at her. It should be against the law for
anyone to be that cute. A criminal offense.

***********

The painting turns out amazing.

"I can't stop staring at it," I say.

Y/N slaps me on the shoulder. She's naked and pretty much covered in paint. It's like everywhere.
She looks like she lost a fight with a paint sprayer. I on the other hand, am wearing a pair of sweat
pants I threw on after our bath.

"Shut up," she says.

"No really," I say. "I think I'm jealous. I want one."

"You'll have to wait till Christmas," she says, eyes twinkling as she basks in my obvious adoration.

"That's literally forever," I pout.

"Awww," she feigns sadness. "How will you survive? Poor baby."

"I am," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "The poorest."

"Oh hush," she says. "I just need a quick shower to get the paint off. Will you help?"

I swallow. God but she makes it hard. Pun intended.

"I guess," I say. "Can't have you coming to bed covered in paint."

She rolls her eyes.

"Whatever," she says. "You love being naked with me in the shower. It's like your second favorite
thing ever."

I stroke my chin, like I'm considering what she said. "I mean... top five, for sure."

"I'll take that," she says, stepping into the shower.

I take my pants off and hang them on a hook on the wall. We make quick work of the shower,
focusing solely on paint removal. I do not look at the way her thighs push together when she bends
over. I do not look at the perfect curve of her ass. I definitely don't look at her swollen, pink pussy.
No. Very much I did not. What are you talking about? Not me. Wrong bitch.

I smile as the tik tok audio plays in my head.

"Come on you little tease," I say, smacking her ass as I stand. "Let's go to bed."

"All right," she says.

We dry off and she wraps up in a robe. I wrap a towel around my waist, intending to sleep naked so
no point in getting dressed again.

"I can't believe David stayed asleep this whole time," I whisper as we walk out of the bathroom. "I
hope he doesn't wake up early."

"Do you think we should move the painting somewhere else to dry?" she asks. "Just in case?"

"Umm... I don't know," I say. "I can't think of anywhere to put it that he won't see."

"What about under the dining table?" she asks. "We can push all the chairs in and rest it on them.
He wouldn't be able to see it unless he was looking for it and it'll be late. He'll probably just want to
pee and go back to sleep if anything."
"Yeah, that's good," I say. I grab some bags to cover the chairs and we quietly arrange everything
before crawling into bed.

"Goodnight baby," I say, kissing Y/N as we snuggle under the covers.

David stirs and wraps an arm around Y/N, pulling her against him, spoon style.

"Love you guys," he murmurs, still asleep.

"Love you too," I say, but he's already asleep.

"Goodnight," Y/N whispers, laying a kiss on my chest when I scoot in close to her, sandwiching
her between us.

I fall asleep with my arms around both of them, thinking about tomorrow and all the things that will
be.
 Y/N

The bed shifts as David gets up to pee, carefully pulling away from me. I stretch my arms over my
head and arch my back.

"Happy Birthday," I call out, drowsily as he walks away.

"Did I wake you?" he asks, turning back.

"Naw," I say, snuggling back into the covers. "I just wanted to be the first one to tell you."

He bends down and kisses the top of my head.

"Thank you, baby," he says. "Go back to sleep. You can wish me properly later."

"Mmmm," I say, my voice drifitng off as sleep claims me.

He returns a few minutes later, crawling back under the covers and scooting in close. His skin has
cooled in the short time and I cringe as he spoons me, stealing my warmth. Maybe we have the air
conditioner temp set too low. Comes in handy when we're all a sweaty mess after sex but right
now... not so much.

"Where'd you go? Alaska?" I ask, stifling a shiver.

"Hush your face," he says, his voice sounding sleepy now. "I'll warm up soon enough. Besides,
you've got a furnace on the other side."

I snuggle into Stéphan's warm chest, pulling David with me. He kisses me on my shoulder, biting
softly.

"I can't believe you remembered my birthday," he says.

For just a moment I consider lying but I'm a horrible liar. Something always trips me up.

"I'd love to take all the credit but Stéphan reminded me last night," I say, scrunching my face in
embarrassment.

"Ahhhh," he says. "That makes more sense. I don't actually remember telling you."

"You did," I say. "Once. But it was a very emotional moment and there were a lot of other things
happening at the same time. It was after I was shot and I think I was still on painkillers. I'm going
to blame that because I usually remember that type of thing."

"Soooo..." he nuzzles into my neck, his dick growing harder where it presses against my ass.
"What's my present?"

I shift, grinding the curve of my ass against him. It's his birthday after all. Who am I to argue if
what he wants is me?

"You have a real present I'll give you later, but I'd be happy to give you a prelim," I say, turning
over to face him.

I kiss his jaw, rolling my hips, little moans coming from my mouth. We'll probably wake Stéphan
up but I don't think he'll mind. He has his own fun planned for later. I kiss David's chest, biting
here and there as I take my time, teasing him with my mouth and hands. I swirl my tongue over his
upper abs, tracing them with my tongue, my nails digging into his chest as he reaches between my
legs.

"God," I breathe out as he slides his fingers inside me, already so wet.

"You know what I want?" David asks, his voice husky.

"What?" I ask, pretty sure I can guess but willing to let him tell me.

"I want you to ride my face," David says. "Ride my face while you suck my dick."

Fuckkkkk. For a moment I can't even answer. His fingers are doing delightful, naughty things to
me.

"Do it," he says. "Ride my face baby. Let me taste you while you suck my dick."

"That's..." my breath catches in my throat when he glides his thumb on my clit. "That's not... not...
shit... that feels good. That's not what I expected... fuck, David. That's not what I expected you to
say. God, I can't even talk."

"Then don't talk," he says, pushing my head down towards his dick with one hand and pulling on
my hip with the other, pivoting me around.

I don't know how it's going to work. He's so much taller than me. I stop worrying about it as his
tongue slides against my slit. It's not so much riding his face as just putting my pussy in the general
area of his face and expecting him to strain forward enough to eat it. The connection breaks each
time I move forward enough to take him in my throat.

"This isn't working," he says. "Just ride my face and then suck my dick after. I want to feel you
come."

"It's your birthday," I say, laughing as he pulls my hips so he can lick me how he wants.

"I know," he says. "And this is what I want."

At that, he begins licking my pussy again, and I can't think anymore. I begin grinding against his
face, moaning as he uses his thumb on my clit. I keep one hand on his dick, attempting to stroke it
whenever I can focus. My forehead rests on his abs, my other hand digging into his hips and thighs
when he takes me to the edge and holds me there. Before I know it, I'm begging to come, grinding
shamelessly on his face, my juices everywhere.

"Come, baby," he says. "Come for me."

That's all it takes for me to come apart, my body spasming as I cry out. I forget about his cock in
my hand. About Stéphan trying to sleep. I forget about everything but how good it feels.

"Finally," Stéphan growls.

He pulls me by the hips off of David and leans in to kiss him, apparently not caring about the mess
I made. I am still spasming, my pussy clenching with little aftershock orgasms as I begin to lick and
suck David's dick. In theory, a sixty-nine is nice, but not with David and me. I'm too short. Or he's
too tall. It couldn't work. Maybe with Stéphan. I'll put it on my to do list.

"Happy Birthday," Stéphan says when he pulls away.

"Thank you," David says, groaning as I swallow his dick.

I feel Stéphan behind me, hear the sound of a condom wrapper tearing. My heart races, knowing
he's about to fuck me. I love this. Love feeling both of them inside me in one way or another.
There's honestly nothing like it. Before I met them, I never would have imagined that I would be
doing this, wanting this, craving this.

"God, you're so fucking tight after you come," he says, pushing into me.

My eyes roll back in my head. His dick is so fat. God, I swear I forget every single time what it's
like for him to have to force his way into my body, to stretch my pussy, to make it conform to him.
It's the most delicious ache. It makes me feel small and helpless in a way I can't even describe. I
love it. I pull David's dick out of my mouth so I can speak.

"Just shove it in," I say. "Make me take it."

"Why do you always want me to hurt you?" Stéphan growls out, ignoring my request and inching
himself inside me. "You make it so hard to control myself."

I look over my shoulder at him, making eye contact.

"I like when you hurt me," I say. "Don't you want to hurt me, Daddy?"

Stéphan reaches out, grabbing a wad of my hair and pulling me up, my back brushing against his
chest as his teeth close on my earlobe. I moan, my body tightening from the pain lanching through
me.

"You're such a fucking brat," he says, releasing my ear lobe, his teeth still clenched. "Always
pushing your limits and ours with it. Maybe I want to be able to fuck you later. Maybe David does.
If we wreck your pussy every single time we fuck you, you'll never finish your renovations."

"Stéphan please," I whine. "I just need to feel you inside me. You can fuck me however you want,
just put your dick inside me."

"Fuckkkk," he says, shoving my face towards David's dick.

I push it into my mouth and Stéphan slams inside me, sheathing his dick so deep inside. I growl my
pleasure at being so filled, moving my head up and down David's dick, relishing in the mental
image of me between them. My pussy clenches and I hold it, squeezing as Stéphan holds himself
inside me.

"If you keep doing that princess, Daddy is really going to lose it," Stéphan says.

I smile inwardly. I love when he calls himself Daddy. It's so fucking hot.

"Just fuck her," David says, his teeth clenched as I deep throat his dick. "I'll figure something else
out for later and you can punish her after for making you do it."

I moan my agreement with this plan. Knowing Stéphan plans to be the 'something else', it works
for me. I release my muscles and reclench. Pulsing them around him.

"Jeezus, fine," he growls.

And then there's no more conscious thought. His flesh slaps against mine, his pace punishing, like
he's proving to me that I can't take it. Maybe I can't. From this position, he hits so deep, bruising
my cervix as he pounds into me. I lose control of anything as David grabs my face, holding it still
as he thrusts up into my mouth.

Jesus fucking christ. They're punishing me. They're both punishing me and it's fucking amazing. I
feel like I'm high or drunk, sensation roaring over me. Pleasure. Pain. It all runs together. David
pushes his dick all the way into my mouth and holds it there, gagging me and choking me as he
comes with a loud groan. I can't breathe and I don't care. All I can do is feel.

In some part of my brain I can hear Stéphan talking. But it feels very far away.

"That's right take it," he says. "This is what you want. This is what you always want. Daddy's cock
using you like a little whore. You'll never get enough. Begging for it even when you can't walk
from us fucking you. Using you. That's what you want. That's what you need. To be used until
there's nothing left and then used some more. Fuck. I'm gonna come. God, baby you feel so
FUCKING good."

He thrusts hard and I feel his dick swell inside me, pushing the orgasm that had been right on the
verge over the edge. My body convulses, bucking beneath him with the force of it as I try to push
him deeper inside me, grinding against him in mindless pleasure as the edges of my vision go dark,
David's cock still blocking my air. The edges squeeze in, reducing my sight to almost nothing and
still I spasm against him, unwilling to give up even a second of my orgasm. It's so good. So fucking
good.

I push myself off of David's cock, swallowing a great lungful of air before I actually pass out. It
was close. My whole body jerks as another spasm hits me, my cells coming alive with the influx of
air.

"I love you," Stéphan bites out as he thrusts into me again, his teeth clenched as he comes. "God, I
love you so much. I love your pussy. I love your sounds. I love the way you take it. I love fucking
everything."

With that, he collapses on top of me, pushing me onto David's lap. He doesn't seem to mind,
playing with a strand of my hair as I relearn how to breathe.

"You almost passed out," David says. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

"It's not... like... I'll die," I say between breaths.

He chuckles.

"That was incredible," he says. "It's like after you come, or while you're coming, you don't have a
gag reflex at all. Like my dick just belongs down your throat. Did you even taste my come? I think
I shot it all down your throat."

"That's what... I wanted," I say. "It... was perfect."

Stéphan pulls out of me and I groan, feeling empty. He disposes of the condom, rolling over and
dropping it into the trash can near the bed. When he turns back, he snuggles in against my back.

"So much for sleeping in," he says. "Anyone want breakfast?"

"Yes," David and I respond in unison.

"Okay," he says. "Who can walk? Anyone?"

"I need a minute at least," I say, stretching my arms. "I don't think I have any blood in my brain."

"Pffft," Stéphan says. "Me neither. It's your fault though. I think you should have to order breakfast
as penance."

"I second this," David says. "Plus it's my birthday. So I just get to bask in all the love today."

"Ughhhhh," I say, trying to move. My arms feel like jelly. I can only imagine how my legs will be.
"Okay, okay. I can do this."

David takes pity on me, handing me the phone and dialing the number for room service. I order a
plate of bacon and waffles for each of us along with a carafe of orange juice and a pot of
coffee. The food comes and I manage to make it to the door, wrapped in a robe with a tip in hand. I
take the cart from and hand the woman the tip, thanking her as I push it back into the bedroom
where my men are lounging in bed.

"After we eat, I want to take you somewhere," I say, addressing David. "Just you and me."

David looks at Stéphan as if asking if he minds being left behind.

"It's cool," he says. "All part of your birthday surprise."

"Ohhh," David says. "So you two planned this?"

"Maybe," I say, innocently. "So you'll come?"

"Okay," he says.

"Dibs on the shower," I say.

I quickly finish my food, and grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to wear with them along with a bra
and panties. My muscles have already started to communicate their abuse. My shoulders are stiff
and I've started to cramp. Probably was a little too close to my period for such rough sex, but I can't
really complain. It's due any day and it will be the first period I've had around the guys. I'm not
sure what to expect or how it will all play out. Which reminds me, I need to pick up tampons while
I'm out. Stupid period. I hate it. I hate it so much.

I turn the faucets, adjusting the temperature to something just shy of boiling. Okay, not really. But
it's very hot. I ease my body into the stream of water, making little sucking breaths as the water
scorches my skin. Eventually, I adjust to the heat and lean my forehead against the wall, letting the
water beat against my shoulders and back as the room fills with steam.

I shampoo my hair and grab the loofah, squirting some of the body wash into the spongey material
and squeezing until suds appear. My arms ache as I wash my body, still recovering from the sex
and not quite solid. Worth it. So worth it. I rinse off and put conditioner in my hair, piling the long
locks on top of my head as I shave my legs and armpits. I don't bother with my bikini line. That's
definitely going to be out of commission based on the way I'm already cramping.

I turn the hot water faucet so it's barely open and the water cools considerably. I suck in a few
ragged breaths as my body gets used to the colder temperature and rinse out my hair, adjusting the
spray of the water so that it is very forceful. And I'm done. Bing. Bang. Boom. That wasn't so bad.

The towel is so fluffy and I have to remind myself that I can just buy fluffy towels as I consider
stealing them from the hotel. I run a brush through my hair and pull it up into a ponytail when it's
dry enough not to look horrid. A little sunscreen and a moisturizer is all the make-up I'm bothering
with. I rush through my routine, brushing my teeth just enough to keep my breath from smelling
and wishing for heating pad.

God, I'm really cramping. I haven't even started my period yet so I figure this one's gonna be bad. I
need drugs. Midol. Pamprin. Hell I'd make do with aspirin if there's nothing else. But I can't very
well tell Stéphan. Not after I begged him to fuck me like I wanted.

I put some chapstick on my lips and quickly don my clothes before opening the door and stepping
back into the room.

"All done," I announce, looking at David. "Your turn."

David slides off the bed where he'd been cuddling with Stéphan and saunters over to me, naked and
fine enough to make my mouth dry. I swallow, wondering if I'll ever get used to them and how
sexy they are. If my breath will ever stop hitching in my throat when I look at either of them. A
blush steals over my features and David smiles.

"I love making you blush," he says, bending down to kiss my forehead as he walks by.

I turn and swat his ass, unable to help myself.

"Get in the shower, birthday boy," I say. "We got stuff to do."

While he showers, I look up nearby bakery's and call a few to be sure they're accepting customers
without pre-orders. The first one says no, but the second says they have a selection of cakes
available. I also look up a convenience store nearby so I can get the things I'll need. When that's
finished, I sit down in the chair across from the bed, wincing a little as a sharp pain stabs through
me. At this rate, I don't even know if I'll make it to the convenience store.

"You okay," Stéphan asks, apparently able to see the pain in my face.

"Yeah," I say. "I'm okay."

"You don't look okay," he says. "Did I hurt you?"

Damn. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to tell him. I send a mental thought to my pussy. This is all your
fault bitch. You could have had a soft, lovey-dovey fucking, but noooooo... you just had to get your
guts rearranged.

"A little," I admit, stifling a grimace. "But it's not your fault."

"How can it not be my fault?" he asks.

"I'm about to start my period," I respond. "So it wasn't really the sex that did it."

"Shit," Stéphan says. "Of course you are. You'd have to be. Fuck, I didn't even think about that."

"It's okay," I say, tenderly changing positions.

"No," he says, standing and coming to stand next to me. "I should have been more controlled. I
should have thought about things logistically. I should have IGNORED the way you beg when
you're getting fucked."

"It's really all right," I say, rifling through my purse to look for some kind of pain medication.

"Are you okay to do this?" he asks. "It's okay if you want to bow out. I'll figure something else out.
It's not a big deal."

"No," I say, tossing a couple of aleve into my mouth and taking a swig from the orange juice on the
cart. "I want to do this. I'll feel better in a bit. I promise."

"The upside," Stéphan says. "Is that you can start taking your birth control again when you finish
your period and then I'll be able to fuck you without a condom in like a month."

I smile.

"That is an upside," I say.

He pulls me up and into his arms, wrapping them around me as he rests his chin on the top of my
head.

"I can't wait to come in you," he says, his voice distant as if he's already imagining it.

I chuckle. He's adorable.

"Okay, so I'm going to take David to pick out a cake and then we'll stop by RiteAid so I can pick
up some girl stuff. Do you need anything while I'm there?"

"More condoms," he says. "We're about out."

I scrunch up my face.

"Uhh..." shit. How do I say this delicately. "You uhhh... did you miss the part where I said I'll be on
my period?"

"Did you miss the part where most girls are crazy horny when they're on their period?" he
responds.

"Okay... but...," I stare at him but he just stares back. He's really gonna make me say it. "Okay, but
the mess???"

He shrugs, as if it's nothing.

"Shower sex, bath tub sex," he says, casually popping a piece of bacon in his mouth as if we aren't
talking about something incredibly embarrassing. "I mean... worse case scenario, we just throw a
towel down and tip the fuck out of housekeeping."

My cheeks turn crimson and I cover them with my hands.

"I cannot believe you just said that," I say, peaking at him through my fingers.

"Relax," he says. "Just get the condoms. If you don't wanna have sex, we won't, but if you do,
then... we'll be prepared."

"Fine," I say, leaning forward and falling face first onto the bed.

I stay that way for several seconds before Stéphan realizes the conversation is over. I feel the bed
move as he lays down next to me and strokes random little patterns on my back.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," he says, leaning down to kiss my shoulder.

"Who's embarrassed?" David asks, walking out of the bathroom. I turn my face to look at him, little
droplets of water all over his chest as he walks through the room in the towel. His hair is dripping
wet and there's a line of water snaking down his back.

"Did you even bother drying off?" I ask, ignoring the question.

He turns to grin at me.

"No," he says. "I figured you'd like it better if I came out all wet."

I try not to smile. I try so hard, but eventually I give in. "Well, you were right."

David gets dressed and we walk out of the hotel with my arm around his waist and my hand resting
in the pocket of his jeans. Stéphan had kissed us both goodbye and I'd taken an extra moment to
give him a comforting squeeze. He's obviously nervous.

We return an hour or so later with a cake and candles plus three bags of things from RiteAid. After
I'd explained why I needed to stop there, David had splurged, buying candy and chocolate, a
heating pad and medicine, plus of course, the obvious... tampons. And also the condoms Stéphan
had asked for. I imagine the clerk thought we were insane when David dropped everything on the
counter for us to check out.

When the door opens, the room has been completely changed. It's dim, with candles flickering in
only a few places. The bedspread that previously covered the bed is gone. In it's place a black silk
comforter with red accents. The dresser has been cleared and there are a variety of things laid
across it. A riding crop. A flogger. A few things I don't even know the name of. There's a bottle of
lube and a couple of different sized plugs as well. Stéphan is standing in the middle of the room
with a pair of restraints gripped tightly in his hands.

"You get to be in charge," he says, a slight tremor to his voice. "It's your birthday present. I'm
yours to do with what you want."

He stares at David, biting his lip and I quietly move away, taking everything we bought to the
kitchen.

David doesn't speak. He just stares.

"If you can make me call you Daddy," Stéphan says, sounding more like his usual self. "I'll let you
do it again."
 David

For several seconds, I don't move. It takes that long for me to register what Stéphan had said. What
he'd meant. When the words cycle through my brain enough for me to comprehend them, I drop
the two bags I'm carrying and stride forward.

I grab his jaw with both hands and pull him into a kiss. It's... well I don't know exactly what it is.
Not gratitude. Not thanks. It's an expression of emotion, but I don't know how to quantify it. Love.
Joy. So many things all rolled into it and I have suddenly lost the ability to speak. I can only kiss
him.

It becomes clear as we kiss that Stéphan meant what he said. He is different. Kissing him is
different. He's following my lead. Completely. His lips are willing and pliant. His tongue that
usually claims my mouth, instead waits to be claimed.

I tilt his head back, deepening the kiss, wondering just how far he means to take this. My tongue
slides into his mouth, stroking his. Tasting him, exploring him in a way he's never let me before.

God, I love him. I love him so fucking much.

I bite his lip, harder than I usually would. Partly because I can. And partly to test the balance of
power. Stéphan whimpers and the sound goes straight to my dick. I've never heard him make that
sound. My teeth release and I lick at his swollen lip, pressing my forehead against his as I catch my
breath, fingers trailing down his chest.

"Happy Birthday," he says, pushing the restraints into my hands.

Fuck... there are so many things we could do, I can't decide.

I toss the restraints onto the bed.

"I can't believe you did all this," I say, taking a step back to look around.

Stéphan shrugs, but his mouth looks just a little smug. "The hotel helped."

I smile.

"Yeah, but I can't fuck the hotel," I say.

"Fair enough," he responds.

My dick flexes, already impossibly hard. I consider making him suck it, but I don't think I would be
able to focus on the goal...

Daddy...

I'm gonna make him say it so help me fucking god...

I don't care how long it takes...

I'm going to tease him...

And edge him...

Until he has... no... choice...

...

The only question is how...

I can’t believe he's doing this. That he'd open himself up this way. That he's going to let himself be
so vulnerable...

Maybe start with the restraints. It's easier to be vulnerable when you're restrained...

Yeah... that's good...

Decision made, I turn us towards the bed and begin backing him up to it, kissing him hungrily.

"So good," I say, the words muffled against his mouth.

I pause long enough to pull his shirt off, tossing it to the side. Then, my lips are on him. Kissing,
tasting, taunting him with my tongue. He reaches for me, but I grab his hands, pushing them
behind his back and holding them with one hand. He makes a soft sound in his throat as I kiss and
bite at his jaw, licking down his neck to his collarbone.

I'm not holding his wrists that tight. He could get away if he wanted. I love that he doesn't try. That
he's just given himself over to me. A moan escapes his lips as I bend down and suck his nipple into
my mouth.

"Fuck," he says, his voice husky.

I flick it with my tongue before standing up and spinning him around to face the bed. He gasps as
my teeth close on the flesh at the base of his throat. His wrists are still captive in my hand, the
other sliding down his stomach. I take my time with this, my fingers teasing as I leave a hickey on
his neck. I raise my head, looking at it with immense satisfaction. I marked him. Looking at it, I
realize, I want to leave them all over. I want to cover him in little bruises from my teeth.

Stéphan lets his head fall back on my shoulder while I jerk his belt loose, my movements rough,
mirroring my mood. I feel... I don't know how to explain it. Like... violence barely contained. I
want to do this right. But all my instincts are begging me to do it wrong. To lose control with him.
The battle between these two sides of my braon is driving me crazy.

His belt slides free and I can't fight the urge to wrap it around his neck.

"Don't move," I say, releasing his wrists.

I slide the end of his belt through the buckle and pull until it's tight against his skin.

Fuck. You look so fucking hot with what amounts to a collar.

My dick flexes again, egging on whatever side of me wants to do bad, horrible things to him.

"You look good like this," I say, biting his earlobe.

I turn us around, facing the mirror across from the bed, one hand stroking his dick through his
pants, the other holding the end of the belt.

"Look," I say, giving the belt a little jerk. "Look at how hot you look. You're making my dick so
fucking hard."
I meet his eyes in the mirror as I unfasten his pants and pull his dick free. Watch as his eyes close
in pleasure as I stroke him, a low moan coming from his throat.

"I said look," I say, biting his earlobe again and giving the belt a little yank.

His eyes return to the mirror a little glint in them that tells me I'd never get away with this if he
weren't willing. It's a little bit intoxicating, feeling him submit to my will, following wherever I
want this to go. Okay... maybe more than a little. There's the slightest possibility I'm drunk on this
interaction.

"I can see..." he says. "I can see how hot YOU are."

"I mean... you're both hot," Y/N says. I turn to look at her where she's lounging on the little
loveseat across the room. Her cheeks turn red, apparently realizing she said that out loud. I smile at
her. "Sorry, shutting up."

"You wanna help?" I ask, still stroking Stéphan's cock.

"Can I?" she asks, her face lighting up like a kid on Christmas.

"You can suck his dick while I set up the restraints the way I want," I say. "Long slow strokes.
Don't make him cum. Just keep him occupied."

Y/N grins at me as she walks over.

"Be your fluffer," she says, matter of factly.

"I mean... technically," I say, wondering if I've offended her.

My face must have shown what I'm thinking, because she lays a hand on my arm.

"It's cool," she says. "I'll be your fluffer. Honestly, just watching was umm... working for me."
Stéphan chuckles and I give a little jerk of the belt.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror," I growl. "I want you to watch her suck your dick. To see this belt
around your throat and know that you're mine. That you're standing here because I want you to.
That you're going to let Y/N suck your dick the way I want her to because it's what I want."

Y/N drops to her knees and I stay a moment, watching in the mirror as she begins, watching
Stéphan's teeth clench as he sucks in a breath, 0my hand still holding the belt and his dick. It's the
hottest thing I've ever fucking seen in my whole life. I wish we had a picture of this, but something
tells me, that might be a little much. I pull away and lift Stéphan's arms so they cross behind his
back, making him grasp his forearm.

"Stay just like this," I whisper in his ear. "Watch yourself in the mirror. Watch Y/N."

I step away and begin attaching the restraints to the bed the way I want them. Stéphan moans and
it seems
Y/N is enjoying the ability to tease him at her leisure. I finish with the restraints and look over the
toys he laid out. I think I will forego most of them, aiming for something simple.

I pick up the lube and a medium sized vibrating plug, walking back to my lovers and setting
everything on the bed. I wind my hand in her hair, pushing his dick in and out of her mouth as I lift
his chin for a kiss.
Thank god she got herself shot. This relationship with the two of them is the best thing that ever
happened to me.

We stay this way for several minutes. The initial adrenaline rush from him telling me has ebbed.
Now I can take my time and I do, kissing Stéphan long and slow, exploring his mouth and
cataloguing his sounds as I control them both. Manipulating Y/N and the way she sucks him, the
way I kiss him, all of it. I pull her away, letting Stéphan's dick slip from her lips.

"Take his pants off," I say, continuing to kiss him.

She does, Stéphan stepping out of each leg as directed. I pull her to her feet.

"Are you wet?" I ask, knowing the answer already, but enjoying the game. "Is your pussy wet and
aching from sucking his dick?"

"Yes," she breathes, her eyes glazed.

"Do you want to cum?" I ask, knowing the answer to this as well. I reach between her legs, running
a finger tip along the seam of her pants, barely touching, enough to drive her crazy but not much
else.

"Yes, please," she moans.

"Then get naked," I say, grabbing and squeezing hard. "Lay down in the middle of the bed, at the
top."

I push her away with a little swat on her ass and turn to Stéphan.

"On the bed," I say, gesturing. "Hands and knees."

Stéphan turns and sees the plug and lube. He swallows and crawls onto the bed. Fuck that's hot, the
belt hanging from his neck. I snap the lid on the lube and squirt some onto my fingers, rubbing it
around before sliding a finger into his ass.

"God," he moans as I push it in and out. "More."

I raise an eyebrow at this but he can't see it. I smack his ass with my other hand and pull my finger
out. I bend over him, close to his ear.

"Next time, say please," I say, letting my voice drop to a husky groan.

He swallows again, his fingers clenching in the silky black comforter.

"Please," he says, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

"It's too late now," I say, licking at his earlobe. "You already fucked up. Shame too. I was going to
let you suck my dick."

I wasn't. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Wait, please," he says, the word coming a little easier the second time. I understand this
somewhat, having experienced it when I realized he was dominant to me. It's like discovering a
whole new world without any maps and trying to navigate your way through. "I-I'm sorry."

"I know you are," I say, ignoring the pleading sound of those two little words and how sexy it is to
hear it in his voice.
I walk around the bed ignoring Stéphan and crawling onto the bed to kiss Y/N right in front of him,
letting his complete and utter lack of stimulation and the visual of Y/N and I be his punishment.

We kiss as I slide my fingers inside of her, making her moan and writhe at the top of the bed. I
don't want her cumming just yet either so I ignore her clit. We carry on this way as I play with her
nipples, fingering her, teasing her for several minutes.

I stay mindful of how Stéphan clenches the covers. It would be easier for him if he were restrained.
Right now, he has only his own desire to submit to me keeping him from taking control of the
whole situation. It's infinitely harder to manage than when you are restrained and your options
limited.

So much for my original plan. Maybe I'm not as nice as I thought.

He spreads his fingers wide and reclenches them before I take pity on him and stand, leaving Y/N
laid out in the middle of the bed, her back resting against the headboard. I come around the bed and
pick up the plug, squirting it with lube. I rub it against Stéphan's ass, smearing the lube all over the
toy.

"You asked for this," I say, pushing it into him without much preamble.

"Ah, fuck," He yells, his voice loud and pained, squeezing between clenched teeth before his head
drops with a soft groan. I grab a wad of his hair, lifting it, forcing him to meet my eyes. His are
glazed and I can't tell if it's from pleasure or pain. Both maybe.

"You're okay?" I ask. I don't want to actually hurt him.

"Y-Yes," he says, voice shaky.

I let go of his hair, his head falling back to where it had been. I move behind him and click the
button that activates the toy's vibrations. Two more clicks puts it at the highest setting. Stéphan
moans and I consider maybe using the earplugs for myself. The sounds they make are driving me
insane.

I look at our girlfriend. Her eyes follow us like she's starving and we are food. I love that look in
her eyes. It's time to feed her, I guess. I push Stéphan's ass, knocking him off balance so that he
literally falls between her legs.

"Look how messy she is," I say. "Clean her up. Do NOT make her cum."

Stéphan shifts his hips a little and looks up at her, grabbing hold of both thighs and jerking her
close enough for him to reach her with his tongue. She slides her hands through his hair as he
begins licking her with long, torturously slow strokes of his tongue. She makes little noises, no less
erotic for their lack of decibels. The little hisses are my favorite.

I walk around the bed and grab the restraint, reaching for Stéphan's hand and buckling it around his
wrist. He looks up at me.

"I didn't say to stop," I say, pushing his head back between her legs.

I move around the bed and take his other wrist, pulling his elbow out from under him, straightening
it so the cuff can reach. The support for his head and neck is gone now with both arms spread wide
and immobile.

Stéphan attempts to continue licking her, but I can see him struggling. For a second, he turns his
head, resting it against her and breathing. It's only a second, enough for one breath before he turns
back, once again following my instructions. Y/N throws her head back as his nose rubs against her
clit.

I quickly dispose of my clothes and stroke my dick a couple times as I look at the scene in front of
me.

Fuck, it's hot.

I climb onto the bed, straddling Stéphan's legs and lay my body atop his, letting my weight settle
against him. I adjust my dick to a more comfortable position and groan as the vibrating toy in
Stéphan's ass touches the base of my dick.

God... you're torturing yourself as much as either of them.

"Mine," I growl in his ear, nipping at his earlobe. "I'm going to leave marks of it all over you so
you don't forget when this is over who you belong to."

"Fuck," Stéphan groans out.

I look at Y/N, a devilish grin tilting the corners of my mouth up.

"Get your cum, baby," I say. "He can't move, so you're basically riding his face from beneath."

"What if he can't breathe?" she asks.

I open my mouth to speak but Stéphan beats me to it.

"I'll be fine," he says. "Fuck my face. Cum for Daddy."

His words remind me of the goal.

Daddy...

I want to hear him say it to me, directed at me. I want it so bad. I want... I want to be able to be this
way with him again. To feel him helpless beneath me, aching for whatever I decide to do him. I
need it.

Y/N adjusts her legs over his arms. I assist, holding her feet so she can lift her ass without them
sliding on the slick comforter.

We're gonna destroy this thing.

For a second, I watch, enjoying the visual as Y/N takes Stéphan at his word, grinding against his
mouth and nose with abandon. She's much closer than I realized, her motions already frenzied,
moans and whimpers coming from her lips as she grabs his hair, holding him exactly where she
wants. It's fucking hot, but I don't want her to cum just yet.

We need to push her higher.

I turn away, beginning my own seduction of them both. One might think it's already begun, but not
really. I haven't actually done all that much thus far. That's about to change. I lick the side of
Stéphan's neck, just above the belt, the side I haven't already marked.

"Bite her clit," I say, letting my teeth close on the skin there. "Just like this."
Stéphan growls and Y/N screams as he mirrors my action, teeth holding the skin for several
seconds before releasing and sucking hard. I lick the bruised flesh and he apparently does too
because Y/N moans.

"Oh fuck," she says, grabbing the covers with her other hand. "Oh my god."

I move lower, to the back of his neck, below the belt.

"Again," I say, reveling in the sounds they both make as I slowly move down Stéphan's body,
leaving behind teeth marks and bruised skin, drawing out Y/N's pleasure and driving Stéphan
insane.

"David, PLEASE," Y/N yells.

Evidently, I'm driving her insane too. I smile, lifting my head to meet her eyes.

"Who's your daddy now?" I ask.

She's never called me that before. Not that I mind. Stéphan deserved the honorific. But, I can't help
myself. I want to hear them both say it.

"You," she whines. "You're daddy. Fuck... please, please, please let me cum, daddy. Pleasssssse."

"You really want to?" I ask - my voice bordering on sinister as I draw out the last few seconds.

"YES, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes...," she says, repeating the word over and over.

"Cum then," I say. "Cum for both of us."

I lean forward and hold her feet so she can grind against Stéphan's face. She makes the most
delicious sound a moment later, her body bucking against him as she does exactly what I told her.

When it is finished, she falls back against the headboard, her legs falling open, her body spent.
Stéphan turns his head to the side, laying it against her thigh and making eye contact with me while
taking deep breaths.

"That was hot," he says.

I don't know why, but some part of me feels like this statement is a stamp of approval.

"We're not done yet," I say, pulling the plug out of his ass and lifting his hips. I push his knees
underneath him, propping him up for me and grab the bottle of lube. He watches, looking over his
shoulder, eyes dark. I coat my dick, stroking it a few times. Stéphan bites his bottom lip and I damn
near come on the spot. He's so fucking sexy in sub mode.

I reach between his legs and stroke him with my other hand. His eyes flutter.

"Fuckkkk," he groans.

"You want my dick inside you," I say.

"Yes," he breathes out, the next breath sticking in his throat as I squeeze the tip, smearing his
precum over the head.

"You want me to cum deep in your ass," I say, stroking us both.

"Please, yes," he says. "Please fuck me."

I position myself and grip his hips, letting the length of my dick slide along his anus. He shivers, a
low moan coming from between his lips.

"Please," he repeats.

I reach down and cup his balls, rolling them in my fingers.

"God, David," he says, his voice almost a whine but not quite.

I release his balls and reach around his hip, grabbing the base of his dick and pulling my hand
along it's length as I slide inside him.

"Fuckkkkk," we both say it at the same time. I pull my hips back, moving my hand back to the base
of his dick and repeat the motion.

Fuck me. It feels so fucking good. I don't know if I'll be able to last long enough for him to call me
daddy.

"I can't take it," Stéphan says as I continue my long, slow strokes in and out, mirroring my hand on
his dick. "It feels so fucking good."

"You can take it," I say, increasing the tempo. "You want this. I know you do."

"I'm gonna cum," Stéphan says. "If you keep doing that I'm gonna cum. I'm so close."

Shit... that's what I want. That's exactly where I want him to be.

"Not without permission," I say, moving faster, holding back my own orgasm, barely.

He's so fucking tight and I'm dying here. Have been dying here since we started.

"David, pleasssssse," Stéphan whines.

I've never heard him whine but it's one of the sexiest sounds I've ever heard.

"You know what I want," I say, pumping faster, breathing hard, trying to hold out.

Fuck, it's so good. I can't do it. I want to last, but I can't.

I begin slamming into him, thrusting so hard and deep.

"Say it," I grind out. "Fucking give it to me. You know you want to. I can feel you trembling.
You're so close. Say it. Don't fucking play with me."

I feel my balls draw up and know I've lost.

I was so close. Fuck.

I grit my teeth.

"I'm gonna come so fucking hard inside you," I growl. "I'm gonna fill your ass and leave you
aching and shaking, begging on the edge with nothing."

Stroke...
Stroke...

Stroke...

Fuck. It's coming. I can't hold it.

"Pleassssssse, Daddy," Stéphan whines. "Fucking PLEASSSSSSE."

A chill goes down my spine as I thrust deep, my seed spilling into him in hard spurts.

"Cum," I breathe out, jerking his dick as my eyes cross, pleasure washing over me.

"Fuck you," Stéphan growls, his dick spurting in my hand. He sounds like himself, his sexy whine
gone but not forgotten.

No... I'm getting that again.

"You liked it," I groan, thrusting again. I continue stroking his dick, squeezing out every drop of
cum.

"So what if I did," he says, breathless. "Fuck you anyway."

I pull out of him and fall to the bed, spent.

"I'll be happy to fuck you anytime you like," I say, trying to catch my own breath. I reach up to
unfasten his restraint.

I'm surprised when he reaches for me, pulling me to his mouth. He kisses me and it's the most
emotional kiss we've ever shared. There are so many emotions coming from him I can't even read
them. I realize that while he sounds like himself, he's still very much in sub mode, needy and
vulnerable.

"Get his other cuff," I say to Y/N, the words mumbled against his mouth as I scoot in close,
wrapping him in my arms and letting him feel all my love. I pull the belt off his throat and toss it,
reaching for him. Holding him, kissing him, rubbing his back.

Y/N releases his other wrist and he curls into me. I kiss his forehead and his eyes. I kiss all over his
face as Y/N cuddles into him on the other side, pulling the comforter over all of us. We wrap him
in our love and limbs until he gradually begins to breathe calmly, his panic and whatever had set it
off, settled. He turns, looking up at the ceiling, grabbing Y/N's hand and holding mine as well.

"If you ever leave me," he says to us both. "I'll die."

"Awww, baby," Y/N says, laying a kiss on his shoulder. "We're not leaving."

"I'm serious," he says, his voice a little trembly now. "I can't live without this. Without you."

"You won't ever have to," I say, leaning forward to kiss his temple.

"Never," Y/N agrees.

He pulls us both in close.

"Promise?" he asks.

Both of us agree, taking turns to lay little kisses on his mouth.

"Did you give him your present yet?" Stéphan asks, turning to look at Y/N.

"Oh my god, I completely forgot," she says, pulling away.

"Hey," I say as the warmth of the covers disappears. "Now it's cold.

"Get under the covers then silly," she says. "Stop laying on top of them in puddles of cum."

"Speaking of," Stéphan says, very much back to normal. "I'll be right back."

While he uses the bathroom, Y/N walks over, a canvas in her hands.

"I didn't have time to wrap it," she says, blushing. "I hope you like it."

She turns a large canvas around, showcasing her perfect ass and I smile wide.

"I love it," I say, pulling her in for a kiss.

"Really?" she asks. "I didn't know what to get you and Stéphan thought maybe this would be
good."

"It's perfect," I say. "Everything is perfect. This is... the best birthday I've ever had."
 POV: Stéphan

I thought it would be easy to fall asleep. After all the sex, it seems like it should have been. But it's
going on 4 a.m. and I'm staring at the ceiling, wide awake. David's arm rests on my stomach, Y/N's
head on my chest. I feel perfectly content.

So whyyyyyy can't I sleep?

There's no easy answer for that question. I'm not in subspace. David hadn't hurt me enough for that.
He was actually... all things considered... quite gentle. He dominated me with my own desire more
than impact play or pain, despite the multitude of hickeys that decorate my throat and back skin.

No the thing that has kept me awake, the thing I keep coming back to is that panicked feeling that
came over me when I came. In that moment, everything felt so perfect and right that the idea of
something happening to one or both of them filled me with terror.

It suddenly struck me that we are at war with the government, a government that has proven time
and time again that it will not hesitate to remove threats by whatever means necessary.

That we are, the three of us, human, and subject to any number of diseases or afflictions that can
prematurely end one's life. Diseases that attack without warning or cause.

That millions of relationships end each day, people falling out of love as easily as they fell into it
and that too can happen without notice or forewarning.

There are so many different ways that perfection of my life with them could end and thinking about
it had sent me into a panic. Maybe it's the orphan in me, but the idea of being alone after
everything that's happened... well... I'd rather die. It's crazy to think that I've been alone for my
whole life and managed just fine, but a few months with them and I'm some weird version of co-
dependent.

I don't like this feeling. Don't like the thoughts in my head. Or the way my brain keeps supplying
an endless array of ways I might end up alone. Or the despair that washes over me with each
scenario. There's nothing I can do to protect myself. I love them with an intensity that isn't healthy
and I don't care.

If I can't protect myself, then I need to protect them.

There isn't anything I can do about one or both of them possibly falling out of love with me. But
the other things that could happen to them... I have the ability to mitigate some of those things.

Regular health screenings... Quit Anonymous... Yeah... right...

The government won't stop. Not after our attack on them. They already arrested us and detained us
in an underground facility. They took David's mom. That was before we declared war. We've done
millions, if not billions, worth of damage to various departments and governmental organizations.
It's only a matter of time before it catches up with us.

At first... I was like mmm... quit... as a joke... But bro... I don't think it's a joke anymore...

It had seemed like a joke when the thought came to mind a few minutes ago, but now I'm not so
sure.
Maybe we really should quit...

We would be safer. So much fucking safer. But the work we do is important. Now more than ever.
The people in power keep promising to make things better but it never happens. They aren't even
hiding their crossed fingers behind their backs anymore.

Big Pharma, the NRA, Oil & Gas, Tobacco. Nobody finds any real power in the United States
without becoming beholden to something. The thing I can't figure out is why we haven't ever seen
a candidate come into power after promising the sun, moon, and stars to their political backers as
well as the people that voted for them and choose, the PEOPLE. Like... if you gotta lie to one of
them, why is it ALWAYS the people. You'd think, from a statistical standpoint, if nothing else,
that it would have happened once by now.

I mean, come on... what are they gonna do? Sue the candidate?

'Your honor he promised us the vote would go our way if we agreed to back his next fundraiser.'

Dude... you're never gonna fall asleep at this rate...

I try, instead, to imagine what a life with the two of them might look like if we quit anonymous.

Would David and Y/N want to move out of the country? Would they even agree to quit? David's
been doing this even longer than I me. I can't imagine him as a civilian. He might both go insane.
Hell we might BOTH go insane. Then there's Y/N. She only just started. What if she's not be ready
for the adventure to come to an end?

I fall asleep, compiling question after question in my head. Too many questions. Questions that
very well may lead to one or both of my lovers to fall OUT of love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I come awake slowly as sleepy kisses trail down my stomach, teeth grazing my abs while a soft
hand strokes my dick... which is NOT soft.

"Mmmm..." I murmur reaching down and wrapping my hand around hers, increasing the pressure
as I move her hand up and down my dick. "That's the best way to wake up."

"Yeah?" she says.

Oh yeahhhh...

Her lips close around the head of my dick, mouth wet... and warm... A soft groan rumbles through
my chest as I exhale. She trails her tongue along the rim, still stroking when my hand falls away.

"Fuck, baby," I murmur. "Just like that."

God, that feels good... Ahhh, fuck me... That feels fucking incredible...

"Daddy likes?" she says, looking up at me through her lashes, a smirk in the corner of her mouth,
looking like sin itself.

"Nooooo, baby," I groan. "Daddy loves."

She's a sucker for the praise, literally, working me in and out of her mouth with enthusiasm. I could
cum but I don't want to. Not yet. Not this way. David shifts on the bed next to me, turning over to
face us with sleepy eyes.
"Hey sleepyhead," I whisper as he leans in for a kiss.

"Hey yourself," he says.

Our mouths meet and I'm struck again with that sense of panic in my chest that this isn't forever.
That on our current path I will lose one or both of them, sooner rather than later. I push it away.
There's time enough for those kind of thoughts after... breakfast.

David tries to pull away, but I hold him in place with a hand on the back of his head, kissing him
with all the passion I possess, showing him that desperate need because it's so much easier to show
him than to say it. I pull away, breathless and look at Y/N, my dick disappearing down her throat.

"Ride me, princess," I say, reaching for the condoms on the night stand. "I want to be inside you."

"Thought you'd never ask," she says, smirking like that was her plan all along. Maybe it was. She
got to cum yesterday, but neither of us fucked her. Yesterday was about David. His birthday.

I place the gold foil in her hand and turn back to David. He's watching me, propping his head up on
one hand, the other tracing little circles on his abs. His dick is hard but he hasn't touched it, waiting
for me perhaps. I'm thankful I had enough foresight to make him wash up after last night's...
festivities.

"I want you in my mouth," I say, reaching for his dick.

"You do, huh?" he says. It's his turn to smirk. Apparently that was his plan all along as well.

"Shut up and fuck my mouth," I growl.

"Yes, Daddy," he says, sounding like the very devil.

My mouth falls open, agape. Surprised doesn't begin to cover it. He's never called me that before.
In fact he's told me multiple times that he wouldn't.

"What?" he says, still smirking. He shrugs. "You said it first."

"God, you two are so fucking hot," Y/N says, rolling the condom down my dick.

David turns to her, kissing her hungrily as I stroke his dick and she strokes mine. She's straddling
my thighs, moaning against his mouth.

I second that... You two are fucking hot... Positively scorching...

"You heard him, princess," David says when he breaks the kiss. "Sit on his dick."

"You heard him, princess," she fires back. "Fuck his mouth."

"Okay look," David says, the corner of his mouth tilted up, belying the harsh tone. "Just because I
called him Daddy, doesn't mean I identify as a fucking princess."

"David, NOW," I growl, stroking him harder.

"We'll revisit this," he says, gripping her throat. He squeezes as he flicks his tongue across her
mouth. "You're definitely getting punished."

"Okay, Daddy," she says, parroting back the words he said to me. She lifts her hips and positions
my dick. My eyes flutter as she sinks down onto me.
Fuck... so good...

"I love your pussy, baby," I grind out between clenched teeth.

David pulls his dick out of my hand and comes up onto his knees by my head. He looks down at
me, rubbing his thumb across my mouth.

"I'm too turned on to be gentle," he says.

Duh... Honestly, you'd think he knows me well enough by now...

"Did I ask you to be gentle?" I say. "What don't you understand about shut up and fuck my mouth?"

I don't know exactly why I want it like that today. Just that I do. Maybe because I feel helpless
against fate or the universe and some part of me wants to turn that feeling into sex because that, I
can control. There's no telling, honestly. It could be anything. I just know I want to feel him in my
mouth without anything holding him back.

Y/N shifts her hips, rolling her stomach so her clit presses into my pelvic bone, a little sound of
pleasure escaping her mouth.

That's right baby... There you go.

David slides his hand into my hair as he shifts his hips. He moves one knee, sliding it over my arm,
holding it down. It's not a restraint but it functions well enough as one. He looks at me, a
questioning look in his eyes, as if asking if it's okay.

"For fuck's sake," I growl, rolling my eyes. I reach for him with my other hand, grasping his hip
and pulling him closer, pushing his dick into my mouth, forcing him into my throat.

"I'll do it," he bites out, smacking my hand away. "I'll fuck your mouth real good, Daddy."

Fucking do it then... God, that's fucking sexy though... Daddy, Daddy, Daddy... Shit's gonna make
me bust in like five seconds.

I reach for Y/N, grabbing her hip and squeezing as David pulls back and shoves himself into my
throat, over and over, gagging me, bringing tears to my eyes. It's exactly what I want. What I need.
Her using my dick. Him using my mouth.

"I will never get tired of watching the two of you," Y/N says, clenching around me, rocking her
body back and forth, just the tiniest little motion as her clit presses against me. She'll cum real
quick that way and that's what I want. Want to feel her pussy spasm around my cock.

"You like watching me use his mouth?" David breathes, pausing. I take a breath, spit slipping from
the corners of my mouth. "Like watching him gag on my dick?"

Yes...

"Yes," she pants. "Don't stop."

Exactly, don't fucking stop...

"Oh, I'm not," David says, resuming his thrusts. "Just thought I'd let him breathe."

Fuck... I'm losing my mind. I love this... Love them...

"I don't think he needs to breathe," she says, meeting my gaze.

Switchy brat... You're not wrong though.

She places her hand on my chest, leaning forward, putting more pressure on her clit. I can't help but
stare into her eyes, my vision blurry with gag tears as David pumps in and out, harder, faster. He's
gonna go before she does.

Dammit...

I reach up, grabbing her throat, squeezing the sides of it, just below her jaw. Her eyes flutter and it
might be enough to push her over. I hold it, letting her grind against me until her shoulders slump,
weakening. Her eyes open wide when I let go, pulling my hand back and slapping her cheek.

"Swallow," David says. "Fucking take it."

"Oh god, yes," Y/N murmurs, spasming around my dick, gushing as she cums, soaking my hips
and thighs in the evidence of her pleasure. "So fucking good..."

David thrusts deep into my throat, his whole dick disappearing as he groans, cumming down my
throat exactly like I wanted. Y/N jerks, her pussy clenching rhythmically around my dick. I smack
her again and she keeps going, grinding against me as David pulls out of my mouth, falling against
the wall.

I feel like an animal, jerking my arm from beneath him and grabbing Y/N, rolling her beneath me
as I throw one leg up onto my shoulder and drive into her like a man possessed. She arches her
back, thrusting her tits up and David claims one for himself, sucking and biting as I give in to my
own needs.

"That's right, take it," I groan, slamming into her, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoing around
us. "Take it. Fucking take it."

"God, yes," she cries out as David's hand slips between her legs, stroking her clit. Her nipple slips
from between his teeth and she moans.

"Such a little whore for us," he says.

"Yes," she breathes. "Always."

"That's right, my little princess whore," I growl, my thrusts becoming harder, faster. I'm close. So
close. "Gushing all over me, making a fucking mess."

"She can't help herself," David says. "Her pathetic, greedy pussy likes making a mess of things."

"It does," she murmurs. "So messy."

"Yeah it is," I growl. "Hear how fucking wet you are for me?"

"So wet," she breathes.

"How nasty," I say.

"So nasty.

"How needy,"
"Oh god," she says. "I'm gonna cum."

"Do it," I growl, pressing on her stomach. "Cum for us. Cum on my dick, baby."

When her pussy spasms around me for the second time, milking my dick, I give in to the urge and
let go, throwing her other leg up onto my shoulder and bending her in half, driving into her so
fucking deep.

"That's right, you fucking slut," I growl as she cries out. "Fucking take it. Gonna cum so fucking
deep inside you."

"Oh god, yes," she cries, eyelids fluttering. "Fuck, I love you, Stéphan. FUCK."

A chill goes down my spine as the orgasm takes me. I thrust deep, feeling my body spurt, a groan
slipping from my lips. I pull back and thrust again, breath catching in my throat.

"I love you," she repeats, her body still jerking.

"I fucking love you too," I say, pulling out and pushing her legs off my shoulders. I fall to the bed
beside her, spent.

"Fuck," she breathes, flexing her foot. "Cramp. Shit."

"Come here, princess," David says, leaning up to massage her calf.

Thank god. I'm about useless, having only slept about an hour and cumming so hard I may have
actually experienced the divine.

"Better," she breathes, her face relaxing as the pain subsides.

"Should have left you to fend for yourself," David says, his voice menacing. "I can't believe you
called me princess. Where's my belt?"

"Come on, it was funny," she says.

"Yeah, hilarious," he says, still massaging her calf.

I watch them, content and satiated, wondering how to ask them about the thoughts that plagued my
twilight hours.

Later... ask them later... Don't spoil this with reality...

Yeah... Later is good...

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