*Isabella's POV*
"But Damien, please... I want you both," I said nervously, forcing a big, innocent smile that I knew damn well wouldn't work on him.
"Enough," he said, his expression stern, not budging an inch.
"But..." I stuttered, my mind racing for a way out of this delicious trap.
"Are you ours?" he asked, his eyes boring into mine, demanding the truth.
"Yes, yes, I already told you, I'm yours," I said, my voice sounding pathetic and desperate, my resolve crumbling under his intense gaze.
I was suddenly pulled back against Jacob's chest, his arms a warm, solid cage around me. "Will you leave us again?" he murmured in my ear, his voice a low, serious rumble.
"No, never, I love you," I said desperately, the words a heartfelt promise.
Just as quickly, I was hauled back against Damien's chest once more. "Will you do as we say?" he asked, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"You know I will," I said, biting my lip, a nervous habit that I knew drove them both wild.
With that, Damien's stern expression finally broke, replaced by a slow, predatory smirk. "You're still getting punished, you know that right?" Damien said, the words a dark, delicious promise that sent a shiver of anticipation straight to my core.
Jacob's lips brushed against my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cool air of the study. "Just so you know, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice a low, wicked murmur that was somehow more intimate than a kiss, "you don't get to cum this time."
My eyes flew open in shock, a gasp catching in my throat. Before I could even process his words, let alone form a response, they moved. It was a coordinated, predatory strike.
Damien's hands gripped the fabric of my dress on one side, Jacob's on the other. With a single, brutal rip, the sound of tearing fabric echoed in the room, and my dress was gone, shredded in their hands, falling away to pool at my feet. The sudden exposure, the cool air on my heated skin, made me gasp again.
Then, Damien's hands were at my back, unhooking my bra with a practiced flick of his wrist before he tore that away too. Jacob dropped to his knees in front of me, his fingers hooking into the sides of my panties. He didn't pull them down; he fucking tore them off, the delicate fabric giving way with a snap. I was completely bare, trembling, and utterly at their mercy.
In one fluid motion, Damien threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his hand firmly planted on my ass. The world upside down, I saw Jacob grab my torn clothes jackets from the floor before following us out of the study and up the staircase to my old bedroom. Of course.
He kicked the door open and dumped me onto the bed. I landed with a soft bounce, my heart hammering against my ribs. But Damien didn't join me. He walked over to the armchair in the corner of the room, sinking into it with a predatory grace.
He just watched, his eyes dark and unreadable, a silent, imposing presence. It was just like the first time we had sex, but this time, the stakes were different. This time, I was being denied inevitable pleasure.
Jacob crawled onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He was naked now, God knows when that happened, his body a work of art in the dim light. He settled over me, his weight a delicious, familiar pressure, but his touch was maddeningly gentle.
He leaned down and kissed me, a deep, slow kiss that was all about exploration, not possession. His hands roamed my body, squeezing my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples until they were hard, aching points.
His hips rocked against mine, his hard cock sliding through my wetness, a teasing friction that drove me insane. "Fuck, Isabella," he groaned against my lips. "You're so fucking wet for me."
He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom and rolling it on with a quick, efficient motion. He positioned himself at the entrance of my pussy, his eyes locked on mine. "You feel so fucking good."
He pushed into me, a slow, deep stroke that made me arch my back and cry out. He set a rhythm, a steady, maddening pace that built the pleasure in my core, higher and higher, a tight coil of need.
He'd drive me right to the brink of an orgasm, my body tensing, my breath catching, and then he'd slow down, or change the angle, pulling me back from the edge. He did it again and again, a torturous, exquisite game. "Jacob, please," I begged, my hands fisting in the sheets. "Please, let me cum."
"No sweetheart," he grunted, his own control clearly breaking. He squeezed my hip, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic. "Not this time." He drove into me one last time, a deep, powerful stroke, and with a loud groan, he found his own release, his body shuddering against mine. He collapsed on top of me for a moment, his breathing heavy, before rolling away, leaving me empty, aching, and more frustrated than I had ever been in my entire life.
I lay there, panting, my body thrumming with unfulfilled need. I heard the rustle of fabric and looked over to see Damien getting up from the chair. He stripped off his clothes, his body hard and imposing in the dim light. He grabbed a condom from the drawer, put it on himself with a quick, decisive movement. His eyes were on me, dark and full of a rough, possessive hunger that made my pussy clench in anticipation.
"On your knees," he commanded, his voice a low growl.
I scrambled to obey, my body trembling. He came up behind me, his hands gripping my hips, pulling my ass up. He pushed my chest and head down into the mattress, my ass high in the air, completely exposed to him. He didn't prep me or tease me. He just slammed into me, a hard, unforgiving thrust that made me scream into the pillow.