FALLON
I stand frozen as Leone slides my underwear down, his brown eyes locked onto mine—a silent command to comply and step out of them.
“This doesn’t need to be difficult, Fallon,” he says.
Everything about this is difficult. Everything about this screams against the very fiber of who I am. Yet here I am, yielding to their demands because what choice do I have?
Milo’s warmth presses against my back, prying my arm away from my chest as he removes the sling. I grip Leone’s shoulder, stepping out of the underwear, and he rises, towering over me. Sandwiched between them, I am painfully aware of their power, their physicality—muscle and flesh honed for intimidation and control. I don’t stand a chance against them.
Leone inclines his head toward the shower. “Milo will help you shower,” he
