The black dress Victor picked out for me was sinful. Short, tight, silky. It hugged my tits and barely covered my ass. No bra. No panties. Just a small silver plug they pushed into my ass before we left, filled with their cum from earlier. Every step made it shift inside me and sent sparks up my spine.

“You look like a rich man’s whore,” Ryker whispered in my ear as we walked into the fancy restaurant. His hand stayed on my lower back, possessive. “Our whore.”

Victor walked on my other side, calm and powerful in his dark suit. “Be good tonight. Smile. Keep your legs open under the...