Used By The Billionaire Twins: Their Rules, Her body

Reyna

The penthouse was a glass kingdom.

Everything shimmered. Marble floors. City lights stretched for miles beyond floor-to-ceiling windows. It didn’t feel like a home—it felt like a throne room.

And I was the offering.

Grayson poured another drink and handed it to me without a word. Knox took my coat, fingers brushing bare skin like he was already memorizing me.

“You still want the ten grand?” Grayson asked.

“I… yeah.”

“Then listen carefully,” Knox said, stepping behind me. “Rule one: we give the orders.”

“Rule two,” Grayson added, “you obey immediately.”

I swallowed. “And if I don’t?”

Grayson smiled. “You’ll learn.”

Before I could respond, Knox gripped my chin, tilted my face up, and kissed me.

Hard. Hungry. Possessive.

My breath caught. He tasted like champagne and sin.

Grayson pulled my dress down from behind—slow, rough—until it pooled at my feet. Then his hand slid over my ass. A squeeze. A smack.

I gasped into Knox’s mouth.

“She flinches pretty,” Grayson said.

“Mm. I like her mouth more,” Knox replied, slipping his thumb between my lips. “Open.”

I did.

He slid his thumb in, slowly, watching me suck.

“Good girl.”

They guided me to the massive bed—Grayson unfastening his watch, Knox unbuttoning my blouse fully.

I was stripped.

Exposed.

Owned.

Grayson sat at the edge of the bed, spreading his legs.

“Crawl.”

I hesitated.

He raised an eyebrow. “That hesitation just cost you an orgasm.”

I dropped to my knees.

Crawled between his legs.

Knox moved behind me, trailing a finger down my spine.

“You think you’re in control,” Grayson said. “But from this point on? You’re our toy.”

Then he pulled me up by my hair and kissed me—dirtier than his brother. Rougher. Hungrier.

While Knox slid his fingers between my thighs.

“Dripping already,” he murmured. “She was made for this.”

Grayson pulled away.

“On the bed. Hands above your head.”

I obeyed.

They moved like a practiced routine—Knox between my legs, Grayson pinning my wrists, mouths and fingers and filth everywhere.

“Beg for us,” Grayson whispered, kissing my throat.

“Please,” I moaned. “Please—take me.”

“You don’t get both of us yet,” Knox said. “First, you learn to serve.”

He slid his cock between my folds—teasing, waiting.

Then he slammed in.

I screamed.

Grayson kissed the sound from my mouth, fingers clamped around my throat.

“Let go,” he whispered. “Be used.”

And I did.

Again. And again.

Until the only word I remembered was “yes.”