And then
I shatter.
www
I come so hard I see stars.
My scream tips from my throat, wild and raw, as my body clenches around Enzo, wave after wave crashing over me.
But they don’t stop.
They don’t even slow down.
They keep touching me, using me, loving me
until I break again.
And again.
And again.
Until all that’s left is ruin.
Me.
In pieces.
Exactly where they want me.
Exactly how I want to be.
s
Matteo’s turn is merciless. He flips me onto my back like I weigh nothing, his eyes locked on mine as he spreads my thighs wide, exposing me completely. There’s a hunger in him–raw, feral–that steals the breath from my lungs. He doesn’t rush. No, he makes me wait, teetering on the edge of madness as he kneels between my legs, his broad hands pressing into my thighs to keep me open, vulnerable. His tongue drags up my slick folds with excruciating slowness, pausing only to suck my clit into his mouth, hard and unrelenting, until my back bows off the floor. Every flick, every circle of his tongue is calculated to unravel me, to pull apart every last thread of composure I have left. He moans against me like I’m his last meal, like devouring me is the only thing keeping him alive. I sob his name–broken, high–pitched, pleading–while he buries his face deeper, tongue pushing into me, fucking me with hot, wet strokes that make my legs quake around his head. His fingers return, thick and ruthless, curling inside me, hitting that spot that makes me see stars. He doesn’t stop, not when I scream, not when I beg, not when I go limp from the sheer intensity of it all. He just keeps going, drawing orgasm after orgasm from me until I’m shaking, soaked, a ruined mess of moans and whimpers. When he finally pulls away, his lips and chin glisten with my slick, and he grins–wild and wicked–like he’s proud of how completely he’s wrecked me.
Matteo finally takes what he’s been starving for. He positions himself between my trembling thighs, gripping them hard enough to bruise as he lines himself up. His cock presses against my soaked entrance, thick and unrelenting, and he doesn’t ease in–he thrusts. Hard. Deep. I scream, the sound raw, ripped from my throat as he stretches me wide, claiming every inch. “Fuck, bella,” he growls through clenched teeth, his hands branding my hips as he slams into me again. “So tight. So fucking wet. You were made for this cock.” I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Just feel. His pace is brutal–no tenderness, just filthy, desperate need. Behind me, Enzo grips my throat, tilting my head back against his shoulder, his breath hot against my ear. “Look at you,” he snarls, sliding his hand up to squeeze my tits roughly, fingers pinching my nipples until I cry out. “Fucked dumb already, and we’re just getting started.” Dante kneels beside me, his hand fisting in my hair to force my head toward him. “Open that pretty mouth,” he demands, his voice low and dark. “Be a good girl–show us how much you love being used.” I moan, lips parting
heek mockingly. instinctively, and he shoves two fingers between them, curling them against my tongue. “That’s it,” he purrs, strokin “Such a messy little thing. You like being passed around, don’t you? Like being our fucktoy?” Matteo’s thrusts grow rougher, deeper, hitting something inside me that makes me sob around Dante’s fingers. My legs shake, body slick with sweat, their hands and mouths never stopping- touching, teasing, tormenting. “Taking us so well,” Enzo murmurs, almost sweetly. “Look at our perfect little whore.” And God help me—I love it. I love every filthy word, every punishing thrust, every hand on my skin. I’m wrecked. Feral. Their perfect, ruined girl.
