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I check my mask once again to make sure it’s secure and that it’s double knotted so they can’t easily take it off. I put on a little more makeup to try to make myself more unrecognizable to them, just in case they try to make me take my mask off. If they’re as private as Lucian claims they are, they’ll probably be as protective about their identity as I am about mine.
A girl can dream.
The door flies open and startles me as they storm into the room. Seeing them again almost makes me want to toss this whole plan out the window.
Tristan slams the door shut and rips off his mask. So much for wanting to protect their privacy…
He doesn’t say a single word to me as he stomps over and snatches my mask off. I gasp in surprise, my hands moving to where the mask was a split second ago. It’s leather, not paper. So how did Tristan freaking rip it off so fast?
Despite the tight knots I thought I’d put to secure the thing on my face, I’m now exposed to them. Fully.
Confusion and frustration fill his gaze as he stares at me, and I fight the urge to sigh in relief. He doesn’t recognize me.He has no idea who I am.
“Who are you?” he asks, his eyes still searching my face for the answer to his question.
I drop my eyes to his chest. “I told you, my name is Kitten.”
“No, not yourwhorename. Yourrealname.”
His words are like a slap in the face, but I force myself not to react. It’s so bizarre to see Tristan in this light—cold, callous,mean. He was nothing like this when we were younger, but I have to constantly keep reminding myself that these guys aren’t kids anymore. They’re grown men with a lot of pent up anger that seems to be triggered by my refusal to identify myself.
“As long as we’re in this club, you’ll call me Kitten,” I state firmly.
He scoffs inwardly and clenches his hands into fists. “Strip,” he barks.
I swallow the knot of fear in my throat and do as he says. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner they’ll pay me and be out of my life. I try to remember that as they roughly grope my body. I remind myself of the end goal when their harsh touch sends pain splintering across my nerve endings. These aren’t the men that were in Heaven with me yesterday. These men are angry, frustrated, and clearly confused. A part of me wonders if they know who I am… or if they’re upset I ruined their orgasm.
Tristan positions himself behind me first and thrusts into me without warning, friction and pain causing me to cry out. He’s relentless, pulling my hair as he fucks me hard and fast despite the fact that I’m nowhere near prepared to take him.
“Stop! This hurts too much!” I cry.
“Just tell us your name, and we can end this,” Talon finally says, but I can barely form a coherent thought as the painthreatens to drown me. Tristan thrusts into me with so much force, my teeth click.
“Tell him your fucking name!” Tristan bellows, but I refuse to. I’d rather let them tear me to shreds and leave me to die than reveal myself. I want them to remember me as I was, not what I have become.
I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from saying anything, suppressing the whimpers of pain that threaten to turn into full on sobs. Now I can’t help but wonder if I’ve just signed my death certificate by agreeing to come down here.
Both of them are ruthless, time turning into a blur of pain, shame, and torment. They take turns pounding away into me or choking me with their cocks down my throat, demanding that I tell them my name.
I almost consider just telling them if it means the pain they’re inflicting on me will stop. But I know I can’t. If they’re doing this when they don’t know who I am, I don’t want to think about what they’ll do to me if they find out my name—or how far they’ll go to keep their secret inside the walls of this club.
“Fucking whore,” Tristan grits between his teeth as he forcefully fucks me. He fists my hair and pulls hard, pain blooming across my scalp as my head jerks back with each painful thrust he gives me. “You will give me your name, or you’ll bleed until your lips loosen.”
I always knew losing my virginity would be a little uncomfortable, but I never imagined this pain the second time around. I never imagined the pain would come from two guys that used to be my world when I was younger, either.
These aren’t the loving brothers I remember, the guys who always looked out for me when we were kids. But I have to remind myself that we aren’t kids anymore. I don’t know what happened to them after I left, just as they don’t know what happened to me. Besides, they don’t see me as Cleo; they onlysee me as the whore who ran out on them when they’d paid for me.
I can’t stop the tears that streak my face as the fucking continues. There’s no way I can endure much more of this. I focus on the clock on the wall as my tears soak the comforter beneath my face. I just have to hold on for a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer, and I’ll finally be free from all of this.
Suddenly, everything stops, and my body sags to the mattress. The reprieve is short-lived as Tristan roughly flips me onto my back and yanks me back up toward the head of the bed. I try to pull away from him when I notice the leather cuff he’s trying to put my wrist in, but he’s much stronger than I am.
“Stop fighting, or I’m really going to start hurting you,” he growls. The angry look in his eyes evaporates all the fight I have inside of me, fear causing me to freeze. I can’t do or say anything; my heart thundering in my chest as they secure the cuffs on my wrists to keep me in place.
Tristan mounts me once again. “You’re going to give us yourfuckingname, even if we have to do this until you pass out.”
A scream rips from my throat when he pushes into my bruised cunt. This encounter is no longer sexy or exciting. It’s violent, painful, and angry. I can’t help but wonder if these two men are going to kill me, and suddenly the money no longer seems appealing. Not at the risk of my life.
“Rose!” I scream. “Rose! Stop!”
