I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Drake’s pov

I squeezed my eyes shut, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth ground together. Through the door, the sharp, distinct scent of Lysander’s distress and rising, unwanted arousal seeped through the cracks.

It didn’t help that I could see through the walls.

A soft, pathetic whimper escaped Lysander’s lips as Vesper’s gloved fingers made contact with his sensitive flesh. "A-are you sure there isn’t another way to get it out?" Lysander stammered, his breath hitching violently. "Ah... stop!"

"This is the most efficient method available outside of a surgical suite," Vesper instructed calmly. "Contract your lower abdominal wall and push downward. Treat it as if you are clearing your bowels."

A wet, friction-heavy sound echoed from the room, followed immediately by Lysander arching his back and letting out a sharp, breathless cry. "Ah! Oh, god—shit!"

"Focus," Vesper commanded. "Squeeze and push."

"I... I can’t—"

I heard the heavy, metallic headboard rattle as Lysander’s hands gripped the wood. The internal friction was striking his most sensitive nerves, forcing a fresh wave of natural slick to coat his thighs. My pulse hammered in my ears. I could feel his body loosening, his internal walls clenching wildly around the intrusion.

"Should I bring Drake back in?" Vesper offered.

"N-no!" Lysander gasped out instantly, his pride flaring through the haze of pain and pleasure. "No, I can do it myself! Vesper, please... just let me try to get it out on my own!"

A pause followed. I could picture Vesper’s unimpressed, pitying expression.

"You will not succeed," Vesper stated plainly.

"Let me try!" Lysander pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please!"

I heard the sound of Vesper peeling off his rubber gloves and tossing them into the bin. "Have it your way. I will wait outside."

The door opened, and Vesper stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. He looked at me, a sharp, knowing smirk playing on his lips as his eyes dropped to the unmistakable, massive ridge stretching the front of my trousers.

"He is stubborn," Vesper murmured quietly, leaning his back against the wall next to me. "He thinks he can dislodge a heavy, motorized core on his own."

"Leave him be for a moment," I growled, my voice thick with suppressed tension. "If he wants to struggle, let him exhaust himself."

For the next ten minutes, we stood in the corridor in tense silence, listening to the muffled sounds of Lysander’s pathetic attempts inside. We heard the rustle of sheets, the faint clatter of a heavy silver fork being grabbed from the bedside tray, and the wet, agonizing moans as Lysander tried and failed to maneuver his own body to dislodge the toy.

He was squirming, squatting on the mattress, pushing his muscles until he was completely spent, sweat dripping down his overheated skin.

Finally, a faint, exhausted whisper drifted through the wood. "You... you can come back in now..."

Vesper pulled a fresh pair of gloves from his pocket, snapping them over his long fingers with a sharp clack.

"Duty calls," he drawled, pushing the door open and stepping back into the bedroom. I followed closely behind, stopping just short of the threshold, keeping myself hidden in the shadows of the doorway where Lysander couldn’t immediately see me.

Lysander was kneeling on all fours in the center of the bed, his head hanging low, his chest heaving as tears of frustration slipped down his cheeks. He was utterly exhausted, his body dripping with sweat and slick.

"Position yourself on your side," Vesper instructed smoothly, moving to the edge of the mattress. "Contract when I tell you to relax, and match my rhythm."

Vesper inserted two gloved fingers, scissoring them inside Lysander’s tight, swollen heat. Lysander let out a warbled sob, his lower body twitching violently.

"This will speed up the process," Vesper murmured. Without warning, Vesper reached around, his gloved palm closing tightly around Lysander’s fully erect, throbbing cock.

Lysander let out a loud, shrill cry. "Ah! What are you—!"

"As I stroke your length, contract your internal muscles in tandem," Vesper ordered sternly. "Do not fight the sensation."

I watched from the shadows, my blood boiling at the sight of another vampire touching what belonged to me. My hands curled into tight fists, my claws biting into my own palms so hard I nearly drew blood. The sheer possessiveness raging inside me was blinding, but I forced myself to stay still.

Lysander obeyed, his hips jerking helplessly into Vesper’s hand. "O-okay..."

"Shift your posture," Vesper directed, guiding Lysander’s legs apart. "Elevate your right knee onto the nightstand. Keep your core open."

Sensory overload had made Lysander completely pliable. He moved as directed, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps as Vesper pressed his fingers deeper, hooking over his prostate to draw the toy downward.

The weighted egg slipped past his internal barrier, nearing the exit. Lysander let out a relieved, breathless sigh. "Oh, thank god... it’s almost out..."

Vesper deliberately flexed his fingers, thrusting the egg back up into his depth, slamming it directly against Lysander’s prostate with heavy pressure.

Lysander gasped violently, his entire body arching, his mouth falling open in a soundless scream as fresh fluid squirted from his tip, coating his stomach. "W-why did you do that?! It was almost out!"

Vesper frowned, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the human’s response. "Why have you not achieved release? Your body is primed, yet your threshold is locked." He deliberately ground the egg against the sensitive nerve cluster again.

Lysander cried out, weeping openly, his hips bucking in desperate, uncoordinated motions. His cock was throbbing violently, purple and rock-hard, but his body refused to cross the edge.

"I can’t!" Lysander sobbed hysterically, burying his face in the pillows. "I can’t come! I can’t... what’s wrong with me?!"

Vesper paused, his hands stilling inside the human. A realization flashed across his pale face. He turned his head toward the shadowy doorway where I stood.

"Drake," Vesper called out, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "Step inside. He requires your presence."

Lysander shook his head frantically, his voice broken. "No... no, don’t call him! I don’t want him! I don’t—"

I stepped out of the shadows and strode toward the side of the bed.

My jacket was discarded on the floor, my dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. My hard, veiny length was already free, held tightly in my grip, slick glistening at the tip. I had been stroking myself to the brink in the hallway, driven completely out of my mind by the sound of his suffering.

Lysander’s speech died in his throat the moment he looked at me.

I stopped right beside him, towering over his trembling frame. Reaching down, I clamped my hand firmly around his jaw, tilting his tear-stained face upward so his dark eyes were forced to lock onto my slate-grey gaze.

"Cum," I commanded, the single-word order shattered his remaining resistance.

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