*Isabella's POV*
I lay there, a boneless, panting mess on the crimson sheets. The room was silent, except for the frantic thumping of my own heart and the sound of my ragged breaths. My body was still humming, a low, pleasant ache that was a testament to the thorough fucking I'd just received. The first twin had left without a word, leaving me blindfolded and drenched in a confusing mix of satisfaction and utter bewilderment. Who the fuck was he?
The mattress dipped on the other side of me. The other twin. My breath hitched in my throat. The game wasn't over.
I felt a cool touch on my stomach, a light, tracing path that sent shivers across my overheated skin. His hand moved upwards, cupping my breast. His touch was different. Softer. More exploratory. Then, I felt it. A small, cold metal clamp on my nipple.
"What the fuck?" I gasped, my body tensing.
He tightened it, a sharp, delicious pinch that made my back arch off the bed. Before I could protest, he did the same to the other side. My nipples were now throbbing, a sweet, persistent ache. And then... a low, insistent hum started.
Oh, god. Vibrating nipple clamps.
The vibration was a low, deep thrum that seemed to connect directly to my clit. I let out a soft moan, squirming against the sheets, the dual stimulation overwhelming my already sensitive body. He still hadn't said a word.
I felt him shift, settling between my legs. He didn't thrust into me like the first one. He entered me slowly, inch by thick, deliberate inch, letting me feel every single bit of him as he filled me completely. It was a gentle, penetration.
He started to move, a slow, deep rocking motion that was a stark contrast to the brutal pounding from before. Each thrust was long and relaxed, a slow, deep drag of his cock against my inner walls that made my toes curl. The combination of the gentle, deep fucking and the relentless, buzzing vibration on my nipples was a new kind of torture, a slow, deliberate burn that was building into something massive.
"Oh, god... that feels... so good," I moaned, my head thrashing from side to side. "Please... don't stop."
He didn't. He kept up that slow, maddening rhythm, his hips rolling against mine in a sensual dance that was driving me insane. The pressure built and built, not a violent, sudden peak like before, but a slow, rising tide of pleasure that promised to be utterly devastating. The vibrating clamps sent shockwaves through me with every deep thrust, pushing me higher and higher.
"Fuck... I'm... I'm gonna cum," I cried out, my voice breaking.
My orgasm crashed over me then, not a sharp explosion, but a long, devastating wave of pleasure that ripped through my entire body. I convulsed around him, my pussy clenching his cock in a rhythmic pulse as the vibration on my nipples pushed my orgasm to new, dizzying heights. I was sobbing a string of incoherent pleas and curses.
When it was over, I was completely spent. He gently pulled out of me, and one by one, he removed the clamps. The rush of blood back to my nipples was a sharp, tingling sensation that made me gasp.
He leaned down, and for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, he just pressed a soft, gentle kiss to my forehead. Then, just like the first one, he was gone. The silence returned, leaving me alone with my thoughts, my body still trembling, more confused than ever. One was a storm, the other a slow tide. And I had no fucking idea which was which.
After a few minutes, or what felt like a few fucking years, a soft click echoed in the quiet room, and the tension around my wrists vanished. My hands, stiff and aching, fell limply to my sides. The air was cool on my damp skin. I was still blindfolded, a boneless, panting mess on the crimson sheets.
"Can I take my blindfold off now?" I asked, my voice a breathless, wrecked whisper.
"You can," Damien's voice came back, a low, calm rumble from my right.
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached up and pulled the silk from my eyes. The dim light of the room was a soft shock at first, making me blink. As my vision adjusted, my breath caught in my throat.
They were standing at the foot of the bed, side-by-side like two fucking Greek gods carved from muscle and moonlight. Both were fucking naked, their bodies a study in contrasts. Damien, all hard lines and controlled power, his posture rigid. Jacob, looser, a lazy grace in his stance even now, a faint, knowing smirk already playing on his lips. They were just... watching me. Their eyes, dark and intense, roamed over my naked, sprawled-out body with a possessive heat that made my skin prickle.
"Thank you for letting me use my hands this time," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm.
A low, appreciative chuckle rumbled in Jacob's chest.
"So," Damien said, his voice casual, but his eyes were sharp, calculating, missing fucking nothing. "Who was first?"
I didn't even hesitate. A slow, triumphant smile spread across my face. "Jacob was first," I said, my voice clear and confident.
The reaction was fucking priceless. Their jaws, quite literally, dropped. A simultaneous, comical display of utter disbelief. They stared at me, then at each other, their expressions a mixture of shock and, if I wasn't mistaken, a grudging respect.
"I told you, I know my boys," I said, giving a little, smug shrug.
"You didn't think I was a boy moments ago," Damien said, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his face, wiping away the shock.
I couldn't help it, I giggled. A real, proper, happy giggle that made my cheeks ache. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob roll his eyes.
"Yep," he said, his voice a long-suffering sigh. "You know your stuff."