*Isabella's POV*
His pace was brutal, a relentless pounding that stole my breath. One of his hands snaked around my body, his fingers finding my clit. He pinched it, hard, a sharp, jolt of pleasure-pain that made my whole body jerk. He was rough, demanding, taking what he wanted, his hips pistoling into me.
"Don't you fucking dare cum," he grunted, his voice strained with exertion. "You deserve to be punished? This is your fucking punishment." He pinched my nipple, rolling it between his fingers, the sensation a direct line to the throbbing need between my legs.
He was pushing me, pushing me so close to the edge again, the pleasure so intense it was almost agony. I could feel my orgasm building, an unstoppable wave.
"Damien, please... I can't..." I sobbed into the sheets.
"I said no," he snarled, his thrusts becoming even harder, deeper. He was using my body, chasing his own release, and the thought, the complete loss of control, was almost enough to send me over.
But just as I felt the first tremors of my orgasm begin, he pulled out, his own release muffled by a harsh groan. He left me there, on my knees, my body shaking with unfulfilled desire.
After two more rounds of them trading me back and forth like I was their favourite fucking toy, I lay there, panting, aching, and uncomfortably squished between them both. My body was a map of delicious bruises and fading bite marks, a testament to their shared, frustrated desire.
The air in the room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady, primal perfume. Slowly, I came down from the maddening, high-wire act of being denied an orgasm, the ache subsiding into a dull, persistent throb that was a constant, torturous reminder of what I'd been denied. After a few minutes, the frantic humming under my skin calmed, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.
"We haven't talked about what we're going to do," I said, my voice hoarse, breaking the heavy, post-sex silence.
"What do you mean?" Damien asked, his voice a low rumble beside my ear. His arm was draped over my waist, a heavy, possessive weight.
"Will you be in New York?" I asked, turning my head to look at Jacob, who was propped up on his elbow on my other side, a lazy, satisfied smirk on his face.
"Partially. But not for long," Jacob said, and just like that, a tiny, sharp shard of disappointment pierced my post-sex haze. I felt a bit disheartened, the old familiar fear creeping back in.
"I mean, I understand your life is there," I said quickly, trying to sound casual and not like my heart was sinking. "I don't expect you to change your entire life for me..." I was saying when he cut me off, his smirk widening.
"I sold the club," Jacob said, dropping the bombshell so casually it took a second for my brain to process it.
I gasped in shock, my eyes wide. "You did?!" I asked, my voice a squeak. The club was his baby, his empire.
"Damien was right," Jacob said, his gaze softening as he looked at me. "I couldn't handle it." The simple admission was so raw, so honest, it made my chest ache.
"What will you do, sweetheart, now that you finished college?" Jacob asked, changing the subject, his fingers tracing patterns on my stomach.
"I wanted to start studying for a Master's of Business Administration," I said, finding my voice again. "I was considering between St. Luke's College or Columbia University in New York, but I also wanted to keep my job at Smith & Johnson Co." I laid it all out, the conflicting paths laid bare.
"Would you have come to New York for me?" Jacob asked, his eyes searching mine, a flicker of insecurity showing through.
"I mean, I would, but Damien..." I was saying, glancing at the stoic man beside me, the constant complication.
"Oh, sweetheart, I don't want to make your life complicated," Jacob began, a rush of words, "I'll move here. But know that..."
"We aren't jealous anymore," Damien said, his voice a calm, steady statement that cut through Jacob's frantic offer.
"And we don't feel pain when you're in another city with the other," Jacob added, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face as he realised what Damien was doing.
"That's a fucking relief," I said, a genuine, weightless laugh escaping me. The last piece of the puzzle had just clicked into place. "I wouldn't mind coming to New York from time to time to see Elly, though."
"I can take you," Jacob said immediately.
"You can go, baby. I'll be waiting," Damien said, his voice a low, possessive growl. He tightened his arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It wasn't a punishing kiss this time. It was deep, slow, and full of a dark, promising heat. My body, which had been so thoroughly used and denied, hummed to life again, a low thrum of anticipation building deep within me. My body anticipated an orgasm that was long, long overdue. And this time, I knew, they would let me have it.
The kiss broke, leaving me breathless and wanting. The air in the room crackled, the promise of a long-awaited release hanging thick and heavy between us. It was Jacob who made the first move, his eyes dark with a gentle, worshipful hunger. He lay back against the pillows, pulling me with him, his hands guiding my body until I was straddling his waist.
"Ride me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice a low, intimate command.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I positioned myself over him. I could feel his hard dick pressing against my slick, aching pussy. He reached over, fumbling in the nightstand for a condom, his eyes never leaving mine.
He rolled it on with a practiced ease, and then I was sinking down onto him, a slow, deep slide that made us both groan. The feeling of fullness, of having him inside me after being denied orgasm, was fucking heaven. It was like coming home.
I started to move, a slow, rocking rhythm at first, my hands braced on his chest. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me, encouraging me. The pace quickened, my body taking over, chasing the pleasure that had been denied for so agonizingly long. Just as I found a rhythm that was driving me insane, his hand left my hip and flew to my neck. It wasn't a rough, choking grip, but a firm, possessive hold. He used it to pull me down, crashing his lips against mine.
The kiss was gentle and deep, a complete contradiction to the frantic pace of our bodies. It was a kiss of worship, of love, of everything he felt for me. That was my undoing.
The combination of his dick hitting that perfect spot deep inside me and the tender, all-consuming kiss sent me flying over the edge. My orgasm ripped through me, a violent, shuddering wave of pleasure that left me gasping and shaking, my inner muscles clenching tightly around him. I collapsed onto his chest, boneless and spent, a satisfied hum buzzing under my skin.