He grabbed me from behind, one arm around my waist and the other seizing my throat and squeezing as I shrieked.

“Mm, little fighter, aren’t you?” His voice was a harsh whisper, dripping with eagerness. His lips brushed against my ear, his chest hard against my back. “I knew you would be.”

I slammed my elbow back, jabbing it into his side hard enough to loosen his hold. But my attempt at escape didn’t get me far. Manson was right there to grab my arm, and I twisted, pulling so hard that I slipped and sent us both sprawling to the floor.

Manson landed on top. He straddled me and wrapped his hand around my jaw, pinning my head down as he leaned over me and laughed. The sound sent a shiver all the way up my spine as Lucas walked into my field of vision, standing behind Manson’s shoulder.

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” Manson scolded. “Feisty little thing.”

“No getting away this time,” Lucas said. There was an energy to his voice that I hadn’t heard before — higher and faster than his usual tone, strained with hunger.

I scratched at Manson’s arms as his fingers dug into my face, leaving rivulets of blood blooming across his skin as he taunted me.

“You should be more careful about closing your curtains, Jess,” Manson said. “Waltzing around here with your ass hanging out, windows open…” Lucas crouched beside him and leaned over me, bringing his face close to mine. “It’s almost like you’re asking for it. Any old creep off the street could have come in here.”

“Poor little fucktoy,” Lucas murmured.

I bucked my hips, throwing Manson off balance for a moment and nearly slamming my arm into Lucas’s face. I twisted to my stomach and crawled, but one of them grabbed my ankles and dragged me back, screaming as I went.

“Where ya’ going, sweetheart?” Lucas had me now and his body pressed heavily against my back. “You look so goddamn angry. Do you know how fucking hard that gets me? I wonder how long you can keep looking at me like that while I tear open that tight little cunt.”

“I. Hate. You,” I growled, each word clipped and short, thrown at him like mere pebbles at a bear. Manson circled me as I lay pinned to the floor, then lifted his foot and pressed my skull down with his boot. Lucas was grinding against my ass, his weight squeezing the breath out of me.

“Fuck yeah, keep squirming,” he said, his voice tight. “Such a little tease, isn’t she, Manson?”

“Always has been,” he said, pressing my head down a little harder. “Always will be.”