Chapter 1186

Chapter 1186:

Bryan cornered me against the wall, locking my wrists in a firm grip that stole any chance of movement. His words cut through the charged silence, low and commanding. “Makenna, be a good girl and wear it.”

I glanced at the skimpy uniform in his hand—barely more than a suggestion of fabric, offering little in the way of modesty. The thought of wearing it sent a wave of dread through me. Their constant pressure wore me down. I reluctantly took the outfit and turned toward the bathroom.

Before I could make it, Bryan stepped in front of me, blocking the way. “Right here,” he ordered. “Now.”

Heat crawled up my neck as embarrassment surged through me. Resistance was pointless. I had to do as he said.

The costume clung to my skin like mist, its gauzy material leaving almost nothing to the imagination, each curve more exposed than hidden. Despite myself, I couldn’t deny the raw seduction it held.

“You’re stunning…” Bryan’s eyes didn’t shift, locked on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. Once I was fully dressed, something ignited behind his gaze.

In one swift motion, he tore off his shirt and shoved his pants down, revealing his huge arousal. Clayton looked on, his stare heated and fixed. As that attention lingered a moment too long, Bryan took advantage—slamming me up against the vanity.

The hem of my skirt shot upward as he drove into me from behind, swift and without warning.

“Ah… stop… don’t be so rough…” I gasped, barely able to find my voice. A soft sound slipped from my lips, airy and low, carrying a hint of something sultry I hadn’t meant to release. My half-closed eyes betrayed a spark of longing I couldn’t quite explain.

Clayton’s breath caught. A flicker of fury appeared in his expression as he watched Bryan take control. Even I could feel the electricity between them. It hung heavy in the air, sharp and undeniable.

𝕺𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖓 𝓰𝖆𝖑𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖘.𝖈𝖔𝖒

Driven by instinct, I moved to ease the rising tension. My hips rolled with each deep thrust, and I reached upward, arms open in invitation, silently urging Clayton toward me. The way Bryan held me—and Clayton’s taller frame—forced Clayton to bend down, his broad shoulders dipping just enough to fall within my grasp.

Bryan, determined to keep me anchored to him, slammed into me harder. My nails dug into Clayton’s shoulders. He gave a bitter, breathless chuckle that held no amusement.

“Clayton, kiss me… Ah…”

Tears welled in my eyes, their cause blurred. Was it the pleasure, the pain, or simply too much at once? Though resentment clearly simmered in him, Clayton leaned in. His movements were slow, almost reluctant, but he complied. Our mouths collided, tongues clashing in a raw, uncoordinated rhythm.

Their hands moved across my body, mapping every inch, while the pressure behind me surged forward again and again, striking that vulnerable place deep inside. Thoughts scattered as clarity dissolved.

In the mirror nearby, my drifting eyes caught glimpses of us—Clayton’s strained back, Bryan’s intense face so close beside mine. Then the reflection shifted, capturing all three of us in one tangled, breathless frame.

Each time Bryan’s length slipped free from the curve of my hip, it returned with force, plunging deep and taking me whole. Clayton, sensing my wandering focus, caught my lip between his teeth. The sudden sting made me whimper, a sharp jolt rushing through me as my body clenched involuntarily.

He held my lip for a heartbeat, then plunged his tongue deep, aggressive and unrelenting. It swirled and slid against mine, pulling me into a breathless, hungry rhythm. I met him with equal force, returning the kiss with raw intensity. Our mouths locked, tongues pressed close, saliva mixing and spilling in a messy, fevered exchange.v

His erection stood tall, close enough to brush the sculpted ridges of his stomach. The veins throbbed, thick and visible, pulsing with need. His hips surged forward, the pressure direct and merciless as he ground into my clit—hot and swollen from the constant friction.

Their synchronized movements formed a wild, wordless rhythm, their strength undeniable as I was swept into a storm of desire, spiraling downward, clinging to the only sliver of release. The sound of their bodies striking mine echoed through the space, loud and unmistakable.

Clayton’s urge to compete only fueled Bryan further, driving him like a machine—his movements rough and unyielding as our bodies slammed together in a chaotic rhythm. Refusing to be outdone, Clayton kept pace, his thrusts just as fierce and determined.

The pressure deep in my core burned and bloomed, every thought unraveling as pleasure pulled me further into the moment. It felt reckless, like dancing too hard on a night that never ended. The impact sent a sharp pulse through my womb, triggering a rush of slick heat that spilled over Bryan’s skin, wet and uncontrollable.

Waves of pleasure flooded my limbs, rushing upward and leaving my thoughts light and scattered as their hands roamed, staking their silent claims across my skin. They claimed a side each, hands closing around my breasts, fingers working skillfully as they tugged and twisted the stiffened peaks.

A sharp blend of pleasure and pain coursed through me, drawing my brows together while sweat traced a path across my warm forehead. “Mmm…” Sparks lit me from within, every inch of me alive, my core trembling from relentless stimulation.

The sound that slipped from my throat was swallowed completely by Clayton’s mouth. My chest rose in shallow breaths, caught between floating and drowning. Lights burst behind my eyelids like silent fireworks, scattering across my vision as my body quaked beneath their touch.

Leonardo’s POV:

Marehelm stood unshaken—a fortress hewn from stone and defiance. My soldiers had hurled themselves at its gates again and again, but the city never flinched, its barriers untouched.

The battlements stretched like jagged cliffs, guards perched atop them with eyes like hawks, dismantling my hopes before they could take form.

Heat rushed to my face as I slammed a fist onto the table in front of me, sending a metal goblet spinning, its clatter slicing through the tense air.

My voice tore out between clenched teeth, sharp and seething. “Idiots! It’s only Marehelm, and still, my forces can’t break through!” But the real spark behind my fury was Antoni—his sudden disappearance after suggesting cooperation had left a gaping hole in my strategy.

That sly traitor had not only turned his back on me, but he’d done it with the timing of a dagger to the spine—vanishing when I most needed his support.

The longer I stewed in it, the deeper my fury burrowed. I vowed then and there—after the Wizard Clan was reduced to ash, Antoni would beg for mercy he’d never receive.

Before the storm inside me could boil over, the pounding of boots shattered the silence, echoing through the room with frantic urgency. A guard burst through the doors, dropped to one knee, and stammered, “Your Majesty… Antoni requests an audience.”

My gaze narrowed, cold calculation flickering like steel behind my eyes. “Antoni? He has the audacity to return?”

The guard remained bowed, his voice taut with unease. “He says the matter is urgent, Your Majesty.”

A bitter laugh slid from my throat. Fingers drummed a slow rhythm across the table as I weighed the moment. Then I gave a single nod. “Send him in. Let’s see what game he thinks he’s playing now.”

Moments later, Antoni strolled into the chamber.

He dipped his head in a half-hearted bow, all swagger and no sincerity. “Your Majesty. Been a while.”

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