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I surrender.

I keep my gaze locked onto his and let him not only see but hear how fucking good Daddy and Sir are making me feel. I can tell from the way his shoulders are stiff and how poised his body is that this isn’t the sight he envisioned when he walked in.

“Fuck, yes. Don’t stop fucking me,” I pant in a breathy tone.

A scorching heat works its way through me, having him standing there watching is thrilling. My pussy convulses with need, the greedy slut wants another orgasm and if Sir keeps fucking my ass the way he is, it’ll happen sooner than I think I am ready for.

“Take our cocks like a good little slut, apple.”

Daddy’s crass words have me moaning. I want them to fill my holes. The picture he painted earlier is one I want to live out, walking around for the rest of the day with his cum dripping down my legs. The mental picture is enough to have me tightening my legs and gripping my chains harder as I try to slam down onto their cocks.

Their answering groans fill me with a sense of primal need. I feel untouchable, powerful even, knowing I am the one who holds the power in this moment. These men are at my mercy. It’s me and my body that will give them the greatest pleasure they have ever fucking experienced.

As if our bodies are in sync and know the exact moment each other is ready to succumb to complete and utter decimation by climax, we come as one. My eyes are locked on the masked dude by the door. My scream is shrill and ear splitting but I give zero fucks. I want every motherfucker to know my pussy is being fucked so good I can’t swallow my own cries.

CHAPTER SIX

DOC

Her cunt is still pulsing around me, aftershocks rolling through me without restraint. I lock eyes with Prince. I can tell from the look he gives me that he is utterly sated. His craving for her hasn’t lessened, I know him better than he knows himself and I know he is just as invested in her as my son.

I say nothing as I pull out of her. Prince holds her up so she doesn’t fall. I can feel Bash’s eyes burning into the back of my head. He knew what was going to happen the moment we chained her ass up, he wasn’t the only one who got fucked over by this bitch.

We all lost our freedom, our lives, and now we’re stuck on this godforsaken fucking island!

We may not be locked in cells and have set meal times, but make no fucking mistake, this is a prison without bars. There is no fucking escape. You can try swimming but you won’t make it far, the water is below freezing, the current is too strong and the rips will take you under.

Many have tried to overthrow the Keeper when he makes his deliveries but none of them have lived to tell the tale. There are no rules here, this place is self run. You grow your own crops, harvest them and hunt for meat. Every three months a drop of boar, deer and sheep are delivered to the island.

The sound of her grunt pulls me from my thoughts. Prince places her on her feet and steps back but his focus isn’t on Snow, it’s on my son.

“Uncuff me.” Her voice cuts clean through the tension stretched tight between the three of us, and there's no fear in it. Just a command, like she still thinks she's the one giving orders on this island.

I ignore her and finish dressing. Prince does the same. But Bash is the one who moves, and the second he does I know exactly how this is going to go.

His shoulders are locked so tight I can see the strain of it from across the room. He stops in front of her and just stares. I wait for her to break under it the way most people do when Bash decides to look at them like that.

She doesn't.

She blanks her face instead, scrubs every flicker of feeling out of it until there's nothing left for him to use against her. Something in me wants to laugh, bitter and ugly, because the bitch is good. She's always been good at this. Good at making people believe whatever serves her. Good at standing in the wreckage of other people's lives and acting like she had nothing to do with the explosion.

“You are the filthiest little whore.” His voice comes out raw, scraped down to something with teeth.

“Damn fucking right I am.” She doesn't even blink. “What are you gonna do about it?”

He doesn't answer with words. He grips her chin hard enough that I see her jaw flex against the pressure, and bends until they’re eye to eye.

“I'm going to show you what it feels like to be used and thrown away like you're nothing.” Confusion cracks across her face for half a second before he reaches for the cuffs. I want to stop him. I want to grab his wrist and tell him this isn't the way, that there are smarter paths to the same destination. But I don't. I watch him work the metal loose instead, because he has spent two years trying to find some way to take back the power she stole from all three of us, and if this is the shape that taking-back wants to wear, I'm not going to be the one standing in front of it.

I want her broken.

I want her to understand, cell by cell, exactly what it costs to ruin three men's lives with a lie and walk away clean. I want every dream she ever had for herself stripped out of her hands the way ours were stripped out of ours. By the time we're finished, Snow Frost is going to beg for a mercy none of us have left to give her.

The moment the cuffs come off she drops, crumpling to the ground in a heap. I see the flicker in Bash's face, the half-second where instinct says reach for her, and I watch him crush it. Prince moves to his side instead, in a silent vow to have his back. I may not understand whatever the fuck is between them but I would be a liar if I said I didn’t see the love between them.

I only know it's there, and it's real, and it's the only soft thing left on this whole godforsaken rock.

“Get up.” Bash's voice doesn't bend.