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“The one you call Ghost,” she begins, dropping the curtains. “That’s Damien Sylvester.”
“Jason,” she murmurs, releasing a small breath. “That’s Jensen Peterson.”
“The princess shall have what the princess wants,” Damien mocks, grabbing the chainsaw from the sled. “Don’t be a brat.”
“Shut up,” I mutter under my breath. Without warning, Damien grabs my jaw, tracing his gloved thumb over my lips. “What was that?”
“You’re the best,” I murmur playfully, gazing up at him. “Daddy.” “Yeah.” He crookedly grins, leaning int...
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“That’s it, baby,” he praises. “Fucking take it. Take this cock like a good girl.”
“Fuck,” he snarls behind his mask, eyes narrowed. “Good.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Girl.”
“That’s it,” he encourages, breathing hard. “Milk me dry, Quinn. Oh, fuck.”
‘Tis the season for giving, and especially receiving.
Damien, Jensen, and Micah all stand before me wearing Santa hats. Only Santa hats.
Holy, not so silent, night.
“We made a list, little Quinn,” Damien whispers beside my ear.
“We checked it twice,” Jensen adds, twirling the lights around my arm, pulling tight.
“Is that fear in those pretty green eyes?” he smugly asks, cocking his head to the side, studying me.
“Yes. Choke on daddy’s dick. Fuck.”
Here I am, bound with Christmas lights, getting railed and gagged by my three masked men.
🥵🥵🥵🤤
“Okay, Quinn. This time, you’re in control,” Damien says, before his eyes darken. “Run.”
I’ll hunt this guy down. I’ll find him. And I’ll rip his fucking throat out with my teeth.
We wouldn’t just give her the world. We’d give her the skin off our bones. Anything for Quinn.
I fuck her like I hate her.
“Now be a good little slut, and fucking come for me,” I command, rocking my hips. “Before I carve each of our initials into your skin as a reminder of who you belong to.”
“You want to get fucked, pretty girl?” he breathes, his erection growing between my already drenched thighs. “Turn over,” he commands. “Now.”
“Look at us, your little pets, sitting at your feet,” he says. “Use me, Quinn. Use all of us. We have no limits when it comes to you.”
Jensen: We’re running a little late princess. Micah: What are you wearing? Damien: Doesn’t matter what she’s wearing. We’re just going to end up tearing it off.
