I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 128: Chapter 128

Lysander’s pov

Drake’s hands stilled against my waist when I pulled away, his eyes narrowed and he smiled.

"You’ve got a lot of nerve, little bird," he purred, "a few hours ago, you were whimpering that your legs were completely broken."

"They are," I whispered, taking a step closer until my jeans brushed the front of his trousers. I looked up at him through my lashes, "But you bought me a house. I think I can endure a little more pain."

Drake let out a chuckle, and before I could draw another breath, his broad hands clamped around my waist like iron vices.

He hoisted me off my feet as if I weighed nothing at all, spinning me around and slamming my rear down onto the wide teak worktable in the center of the room.

A glass jar of sable brushes rattled violently, and a stack of heavy watercolor blocks slid across the polished surface.

"Always demanding," he purred, stepping directly between my parted knees.

His long, cool fingers reached up, clamping firmly around my throat, applying just enough heavy pressure to tilt my head back against the empty easel behind me, leaving my neck completely exposed. "You want to ruin this room before the oil even touches the canvas?"

"I want you to wreck me in it," I rasped, my pulse hammering against his palm.

His eyes flared before he bent down and slammed his mouth against mine.

I let out a muffled, helpless moan, my hands flying up to sink into his hair, pulling him closer as my legs instinctively locked tight around his broad waist.

Drake’s free hand made a fast work of my clothes. He yanked my trousers down past my knees, trapping my legs and setting my fully erect cock.

I gasped into his mouth, my fingernails digging into the muscles of his shoulders as he unbuttoned his own shirt, ripping it open to reveal the massive, corded expanse of his chest.

Drake pulled back just enough to look down at me, his chest rising and falling heavily. His dark gaze trailed down my chest, lingering on the fading purple bruises along my collarbone.

"Look at you," he purred, his low voice dripping with filthy satisfaction as his calloused thumb flicked over my hard nipple, making my whole lower body twitch. "So hyper-sensitive. Your tight little body is practically begging to be split open again."

"It’s your fault," I whimpered, arching my back off the table, my hips mindlessly rolling forward to rub my leaking tip against his trousers. "Stop teasing and put it in me, Drake."

"Not until you’re thoroughly soaked, gorgeous," he growled low, his fingers dipping past my navel, sliding down into the hot, slick channel between my thighs.

My body was still wide open from the night before, completely ruined and yielding to him like soft clay. When he shoved two thick fingers straight inside my hole, a shameless moan tore from my throat.

His eyes turned impossibly read at the sound. He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, reaching down to unfasten his trousers. His cock sprang free, slapping against my inner thigh, already leaking from his tip.

He gripped the base of his cock nudging me,

"Look at me, little bird," Drake commanded, his voice dark, authoritative, and gravelly. "I want you staring right at me while I stretch you out."

He shoved the swollen head of his cock against my opening. Slowly, relentlessly, he drove his heavy hips forward.

The stretch was overwhelming, a hot, searing fullness that made my toes curl and my fingers clutch violently at his shoulders.

I let out a high, trembling cry, my head slamming back against the wooden frame of the easel as he sank all the way to the hilt, his heavy pelvis pressing flush against my rear.

"Fuck..." Drake groaned out, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle leaped beneath his skin.

"Drake... oh God, Drake..." I sobbed, my hips bucking upward on pure instinct, trying to take him even deeper.

His long legs anchored him to the floor as he drove into me with terrifying force, the loud, wet slap-slap-slap of his skin against mine.

The heavy easel behind us rattled continuously with every stroke. A jar of dark red pigment tipped over near my hand, spilling a pool of red oil across the light wood.

Drake reached around my front, his broad palm wrapping firmly around my leaking shaft, jerking me in time with his deep thrusts.

"You’re a needy little addict, aren’t you?" Drake growled into my ear, his fangs lightly grazing the sensitive skin over my pulse point. "You just want to sit on my cock and let me use your sweet, tight hole like a personal toy."

"Yes..." I whimpered, my voice breaking as the sharp coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. "Fuck me... use me, Drake!"

His pace turned wild, animalistic. Drake hooked my left leg over his broad shoulder, driving his length deeper into my body, slamming against my prostate until my body went slack.

"Suck me dry, little bird," he rasped, his grip on my neck tightening just enough to send a wave of dark, breath-stealing pleasure crashing through my brain. "Take every inch of this dick and show me how much of a shameless slut you are for your mate."

I couldn’t hold on for another second.

A shattered, high-pitched scream tore from my throat as my entire body violently contracted around his cock.

Thick, hot streams of my seed erupted across my chest and stomach, splattering against the dark teak table and his broad chest. My inner walls clamped down around him, milking him.

The sight and feel of my release completely shattered Drake.

He let out a deep, guttural roar that vibrated through my bones, slamming his hips forward one last, brutal time, burying himself as deep as physically possible.

I felt the scorching heat of his climax flood inside me till he filled me to the brim.

For minutes, neither of us moved.

The studio was dead silent except for the sound of our heavy, ragged gasps and the soft patter of the evening rain that had just begun to hit the glass roof above us.

Drake remained buried deep inside me, his broad chest rising and falling heavily against mine, his forehead resting against my shoulder as he slowly gathered his breath.

He kissed the side of my neck gently, "Consider it christened," Drake murmured softly.

I let out a weak, breathless laugh, my arms limply wrapped around his neck. I looked past his shoulder at the chaos we had made.

Yet, as my gaze drifted toward the massive glass wall overlooking the dark pine valley, a cold, ghostly prickle returned to the base of my neck.

I looked past the glass to see two red eyes glowing.

I blinked hard, my heart giving a sharp, uncomfortable thud against my ribs. When I looked again, there was nothing there, only the swaying branches of the pines in the wind.

"Lysander?" Drake asked softly, pulling back slightly to look down at my face, his crimson eyes searching mine. "Are you alright?"

I forced a soft, tired smile to my lips, burying my face into the crook of his warm neck, shutting the dark forest out.

"I’m perfect," I whispered softly. "Just take me to bed, Drake."

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