Chapter 15: The Devil's Agreement
Vanja’s back pressed hard against the cool plaster wall of her apartment hallway, the sensation a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Manuel’s body pinning her there. The ghost of his demanding kiss still burned on her lips. His grip on her hips was iron, possessive, branding through the thin silk of her dress. Across the dimly lit space, Joshua stood frozen, his grey eyes wide, fixed on them. On her. The air crackled, thick with champagne, expensive perfume, and something far more primal.
Manuel’s breath was hot against her ear, his voice a low, guttural growl that vibrated through her bones. "Fuck him." The words weren't a suggestion; they were a command, raw and shocking. He shoved her forward, a deliberate push towards Joshua. "But remember who you belong to." The possessiveness in his tone sent a conflicting jolt through her – fear, excitement, a dark thrill. She stumbled slightly, catching herself before crashing into Joshua, whose arms instinctively came up to steady her. His palms burned against her bare shoulders where the thin straps of her dress left her skin exposed. Their eyes locked, inches apart. His gaze held disbelief, a flicker of the disciplined footballer instantly warring with something far more visceral, awakened by the spectacle Manuel had orchestrated.
Before either could react, Manuel stepped close again, his presence a looming shadow. He didn’t touch her this time, but his intensity filled the space between them. His eyes, usually so sharp and commanding, held a different depth as they bored into hers. "I love you, Vanja," he stated, the words dropping like stones into the heavy silence. It wasn't tender; it was ferocious, a declaration carved from the same ruthless ambition that built his empire. Stark. Absolute. Inarguable in its raw simplicity.
Vanja’s breath hitched. "Manu..."
The sudden, jarring buzz of Joshua’s phone shattered the moment. He flinched, fumbling it out of his pocket, his eyes darting between Vanja and Manuel. The screen illuminated his face, showing ‘Lina’. His jaw tightened visibly. He swiped to answer, turning slightly away, his voice low and strained. "Lina? ...I know it's late. Listen... This isn't working. It's over. Yeah. Clean break... No, I don't want to discuss it... Goodbye." He ended the call, the silence rushing back in, now charged with a different kind of tension. He shoved the phone back into his pocket with unnecessary force, his gaze returning to Vanja, conflicted, unmoored. The safety and predictability of his life had just been ripped away.
A loud, insistent banging echoed from Vanja’s front door, startling them all. Muffled shouting followed. "Vanja! Hey, Vanj! Open up! You won't believe the shit show at the club!"
"Jesus, Max," Vanja muttered, pushing away from Joshua and moving towards the door. She yanked it open to find her brother swaying heavily on the threshold, reeking of bourbon and smoke, his tie askew. "What the hell are you doing here? It’s past midnight!"
Max stumbled in, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, his bleary eyes taking in Manuel and Joshua with drunken confusion. "Party! Where's... party? Saw the pictures! You and Manuel! Front page already!" He gestured wildly, nearly losing his balance. "Crazy night! Dad’s flipping his lid... in a good way? Bad way? Dunno. Need... sofa." He lurched past them towards the living room, collapsing onto the plush, grey couch beneath a framed Bayern Munich jersey, already half asleep.
Vanja sighed, running a hand through her dark blonde hair, the absurdity of the situation momentarily cutting through the intensity. She closed the door softly, leaning back against it. Manuel hadn't moved. His gaze, intense and unreadable, shifted from her to Joshua, then back to her. Joshua stood rigid, the call with Lina clearly replaying in his mind, his disciplined facade fractured.
Manuel took a deliberate step forward, his eyes locked on Vanja. The air grew thick again, suffocating. He moved past Joshua without acknowledging him, stopping inches from Vanja. His large hand came up, not grabbing this time, but skimming her jawline, his thumb tracing her lower lip. The touch was possessive, claiming. Then his gaze flickered past her shoulder, towards Joshua.
"I think," Manuel said, his voice a low, dangerous purr that made Vanja shiver despite the heat coiling in her belly, "you should fuck Joshua."
Vanja froze. The world tilted. "What?" she breathed, shock rendering her voice thin. Her green eyes searched his face, looking for mockery, cruelty, anything but the unnerving certainty she saw there.
Manuel’s thumb pressed harder against her lip. His grey eyes were dark pools, reflecting the low hallway light. "He wants you." He stated it as undeniable fact. His gaze shifted pointedly to Joshua, who stood transfixed, a flush creeping up his neck. "And," Manuel continued, his focus returning to Vanja, his voice dropping even lower, rough with an emotion she couldn't name, "you wanted him. Before me. After me? Doesn't matter." He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, his breath hot. "I want you to be happy, Vanja. Truly."
He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her stunned gaze again. A faint, predatory smile touched his lips. "I don't mind you fucking him." His eyes flickered over his shoulder, locking onto Joshua's frozen form. "As long as I can watch."
The blunt vulgarity hung in the air, explicit and shocking. Vanja’s heart hammered against her ribs. She stared at Manuel, at the raw possessiveness warring with this bizarre, unsettling permission. Her mind raced, images flashing – Joshua’s disciplined intensity on the pitch, the feel of Manuel's hands on her bare skin moments before, the declaration of love that felt like a brand.
"Manu..." she whispered, a thousand questions, protests, and terrifying desires tangled in that single word.
Manuel’s gaze didn't waver. It was hard, expectant. He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod towards Joshua.
"Yeah. Well."
Vanja exhaled. That single syllable hung between them, brittle yet decisive. Her gaze snapped from Manuel's predatory intensity to Joshua's rigid posture across the hall. His grey eyes, usually so controlled, burned with raw, undisguised want – the look he’d hidden behind professionalism at her father’s restaurant gala last month, the one she’d caught flickering during tense Champions League matches. The air crackled, thick with sweat, spilled champagne, and bourbon fumes drifting from her passed-out brother Max on the living room sofa. Manuel’s declaration I love you still echoed, a brutal anchor in the chaos.
She moved. Not towards safety, but towards the precipice Manuel had carved. Her silk dress whispered against her thighs as she closed the distance to Joshua. His breath hitched audibly when her fingers, trembling only slightly, found the crisp collar of his shirt. "He means it," she murmured, her voice low and rough. "He wants this." Her thumb brushed the pulse hammering in Joshua’s neck. "Do you?"
Joshua’s restraint shattered. He didn’t answer with words. His hand tangled fiercely in her dark blonde hair, yanking her head back. His mouth crashed down on hers – hot, demanding, tasting of expensive Scotch and desperation. It wasn’t tender. It was a claiming. Vanja moaned into it, arching against him, her hips grinding against the hard ridge of his erection straining against tailored trousers. Behind her, she felt Manuel shift. Watching. His presence was a physical heat against her spine.
"Get that fucking dress off her," Manuel commanded, his voice a graveled rasp that vibrated through the floorboards. "Now."
Joshua tore his mouth from Vanja’s, his eyes wild. He spun her around, his fingers clumsy but frantic on the delicate zipper at her back. The red silk pooled at her feet with a soft hiss, leaving her naked except for lace panties. Cool air brushed her skin, raising goosebumps. His gaze raked over her – the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the flush spreading down her chest. A low groan ripped from his throat. "Jesus, Vanja..."
"Stop fucking looking and touch her," Manuel growled from his vantage point near the wall, his arms crossed, eyes like chips of flint. "Or I will."
Joshua’s hands were rough on her waist, sliding up to cup her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened into aching points. Vanja gasped, her head falling back against his shoulder. "God, yes... like that." His mouth found the sensitive skin beneath her ear, teeth grazing. She reached back, fumbling for his belt buckle, her fingers trembling with urgency. The metallic clink of the buckle releasing sounded unnaturally loud. His cock sprang free, thick and already slick at the tip. He hissed as her fingers closed around him, giving him a firm, deliberate stroke.
"Enough teasing," Manuel snapped, his voice tight. "Fuck her. Hard."
Joshua spun Vanja back to face him, his eyes blazing. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and yanked them down her legs. They snagged briefly at her ankles before she kicked them aside. He guided her backwards until her bare ass hit the cool plaster wall by the entrance to the living room. Max’s drunken snores were a discordant rhythm from the couch mere feet away. Vanja hooked one leg high around Joshua’s hip. He gripped the other, hoisting it, spreading her wide.
His cockhead pressed against her entrance, blunt and insistent. Vanja was slick, ready, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. "Do it, Josh," she breathed, locking eyes with him. "Fuck me. Let him see." She threw a defiant glance over her shoulder at Manuel, whose jaw was clenched, knuckles white where he gripped his own arms. "Let him see how good you make me feel."
Joshua drove into her with one brutal thrust. Vanja cried out, a raw sound torn from her throat as he filled her completely, stretching her. There was no gentle build, no finesse – just raw, animal intensity. His hands clutched her ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled her onto him with every punishing drive of his hips. The slap of skin against skin echoed off the high ceilings. "Christ, you’re tight," he gritted out, his forehead pressed to hers, sweat dripping from his brow onto her collarbone.
"Harder!" Vanja demanded, her own nails raking down his back beneath his rumpled shirt. "Fuck me harder, you bastard!" She could feel Manuel’s gaze like a brand, searing into her spine, into the obscene joining of her body and Joshua’s. It fueled her, the forbidden thrill of being watched, claimed, used between them. She met Joshua’s frantic rhythm, lifting her hips, taking every inch of his thick cock as it pistoned in and out of her dripping cunt.
"Look at her take it," Manuel’s voice cut through the wet, rhythmic sounds of their fucking. Low, controlled, yet vibrating with a dark hunger. "Look how fucking wet she gets for you. But remember," he stepped closer, his shadow falling over them, "whose cock she screamed for first tonight." His large hand landed possessively on Vanja’s hip, his thumb pressing hard into the bone. "Whose name she’ll scream for last."
Vanja whimpered, the dual sensations overwhelming – Joshua pounding into her core, Manuel’s grip branding her skin. Her orgasm coiled tight, a white-hot wire ready to snap. "Josh... I’m gonna...fuck!" Her words dissolved into a choked gasp. The wave crashed over her, violent and all-consuming. Her inner walls clenched viscously around Joshua’s cock as she shuddered, a guttural cry ripped from her throat. She felt his rhythm falter, his own groan tearing loose as her spasming cunt milked him. His thrusts became erratic, desperate. "Vanja... fuck! Oh fuck!" He buried himself deep with a final, shuddering thrust, his release pumping hot inside her.
They slumped against the wall, gasping, slick with sweat, Joshua still buried within her. Vanja’s legs trembled violently. She leaned her forehead against the cool plaster, eyes closed, the aftershocks rippling through her. Manuel’s hand remained on her hip, a grounding, possessive weight. His other hand reached out, not to Joshua, but to brush a sweat-damp strand of hair from Vanja’s temple. His touch was startlingly gentle. "Good?" His voice was rough sandpaper, but his eyes held a fierce, possessive satisfaction as he watched his lover tremble, filled by another man's release. She lifted her gaze to his, breathless, spent, utterly claimed by both.
Vanja’s breath hitched, meeting Manuel's dark, possessive stare. Her body still pulsed around Joshua’s softening cock, the wet warmth of his release trickling down her inner thigh. She felt utterly exposed, pinned between Joshua’s spent weight and Manuel’s scorching gaze. “Good?” Manuel repeated, the single word rough, demanding confirmation, his thumb still pressing a claim into her hipbone.
"Fuck yes," she whispered, the words raw, stripped bare.
Joshua pulled out slowly, a slick, obscene sound accompanying his withdrawal. He swayed, bracing a hand against the wall beside Vanja’s head, breathing hard. Confusion and residual lust warred in his grey eyes. He wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm, smearing it across his forehead. Vanja felt the sudden emptiness, the cool air hitting her swollen flesh. A thin stream of cum leaked onto the floorboards.
Manuel didn’t hesitate. His grip on her hip tightened, yanking her away from Joshua and the wall. He spun her roughly to face him. Before she could register the movement, his mouth crashed down on hers. It wasn't a kiss; it was reclamation. His tongue invaded, demanding, tasting Joshua on her lips, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His free hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back sharply, exposing her throat. He bit down on the tendon where neck met shoulder, hard enough to make her cry out, a sharp mix of pain and dizzying arousal.
MANUEL JOINS THEM.
"Now me," Manuel snarled against her skin, his breath hot. His hands slid down her sweat-slicked back to her ass, fingers digging into the flesh, spreading her cheeks. He shoved his tailored trousers and briefs down just enough to free his cock, already thick and straining, flushed dark, the head slick with pre-cum. There was no preamble, no tenderness. He lined himself up with her still-slick, stretched opening. Vanja gasped, bracing her hands against his chest. She was oversensitive, raw from Joshua’s brutal fucking. "Manu, wait—"
He didn’t wait. He slammed into her with one powerful, unforgiving thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Vanja screamed, her fingernails scraping down the fine wool of his suit jacket. The stretch was immediate, intense, pushing past the lingering ache. He filled her completely, thicker than Joshua, the angle deeper, more punishing. He held himself there for a second, letting her feel his girth, his ownership. "Mine," he ground out, his eyes locked on hers, fierce, primal. "Say it."
"Yours!" Vanja gasped, the word ripped from her. "Fuck! Manuel!"
He began to move. Slow, deliberate, powerful thrusts that dragged against her sensitive inner walls, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in with devastating force. It was a relentless rhythm, designed for his pleasure, to imprint himself over Joshua’s mark. Her back arched, breasts crushed against his shirtfront. "Harder," she begged, caught in the brutal current of sensation. "Fucking use me!"
Manuel obliged. His pace quickened, hips pistoning, driving into her with punishing force. The slap of his balls against her clit sent jolts of electric pleasure-pain through her core. Vanja’s moans were loud, ragged things, echoing slightly in the hallway, underscored by the wet, rhythmic sounds of their coupling. Joshua watched, transfixed, leaning heavily against the wall. His hand drifted unconsciously to his own cock, half-hard again, stroking himself slowly as he witnessed Manuel dominate her body.
"Look at him," Manuel growled, his voice thick with exertion and possessiveness. He gripped Vanja’s hair again, forcing her head to turn towards Joshua. "Look at him watching me fuck what he just had. Watching me take what’s mine." He slammed into her again, making her cry out. "Tell him who owns this cunt, Vanja."
"Y-you do!" she choked out, tears stinging her eyes from the intensity, her body tightening around him as another orgasm built, terrifyingly fast. "Fuck, Manuel! Yours! Only yours!"
Manuel’s thrusts became shorter, harder, deeper. He grunted with each powerful drive. "Gonna fill you up," he panted, his control fraying. "Mark you inside. Make sure he knows." The filthy promise sent Vanja over the edge. Her climax tore through her, violent and all-consuming, her inner muscles clamping down on his cock in frantic waves. She screamed, a sound torn from the depths of her being, her body convulsing against him.
Her spasms triggered his own release. With a guttural roar, Manuel buried himself impossibly deep and held her hips locked to his. Hot jets of cum pulsed into her, flooding her already overfilled channel. He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing harshly, his body rigid as he emptied himself. Vanja slumped against him, boneless, trembling violently, his cum leaking out around his still-buried cock, joining the mess already slicking her thighs.
Manuel finally pulled out, a thick strand of white connecting them for a moment before snapping. He tucked himself back into his trousers with a grimace, his gaze never leaving Vanja’s wrecked form as she slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor amidst the discarded red silk of her dress. Her breath came in ragged sobs. He looked at Joshua, whose hand was still moving slowly on his erection, his eyes wide, captivated by the brutal intimacy he’d witnessed. Manuel’s lip curled slightly. His voice was a low, exhausted command, cutting through the heavy silence punctuated only by Max’s snores.
"Finish what you started, Joshua. On your knees. Now. Open your mouth."
Joshua froze. Manuel’s command hung in the thick, sex-scented air, sharp as a knife. He stared at the powerful man, then down at Vanja slumped against the wall, her thighs glistening wet with the combined mess of their releases, her chest heaving. Her dark green eyes were heavy-lidded, unfocused, but they flickered towards him. A shiver ran through her. Manuel’s stare was unrelenting, a silent pressure demanding obedience. There was no room for argument beneath that gaze.
He swallowed hard, the movement tight in his throat. His own cock, still partly hard from watching Manuel reclaim her so violently, twitched in his hand. He hadn’t finished. The sight of Vanja, utterly wrecked and marked, of Manuel dominating her even in exhaustion, was obscenely compelling. Desire warred with the shock of his own actions, the phone call to Lina echoing faintly in the back of his mind. He’d burned that bridge. This was the only reality left. He met Vanja’s gaze again. There was no disgust there, only a raw, spent vulnerability, a challenge almost. Manuel cleared his throat, a low, warning rumble.
Joshua dropped to his knees on the cool wood floor beside her. The scent hit him first – musky sex, sweat, and the tang of their mixed cum. Her skin was flushed, damp. He hesitated for only a heartbeat, Manuel’s shadow looming over them both.
"Lick her."
The command was a low thrum of absolute authority. Joshua leaned forward, his focus narrowing to Vanja’s splayed thighs, the slick mess coating her inner lips and trailing down. He pressed his face against her heat. His tongue, tentative at first, touched the sticky confluence of their spend at the very top of her slit. The taste exploded on his senses – salt, musk, Manuel’s distinct tang layered over his own. Vanja gasped, a sharp intake of breath, her body tensing then relaxing minutely against the wall. Her fingers tangled briefly in his sweat-damp blond hair.
He dove in, losing himself in the filthy act. His tongue swept broad strokes through her folds, laJoshua’s eyes flickered between Manuel’s commanding stare and Vanja’s spent form sprawled on the floor, her thighs still glistening with their mixed release. His hand stilled on his cock, breath ragged, caught between shock and the electric pull of obedience. The air reeked of sweat, sex, and the bourbon from Max’s drunken stupor nearby.
"Lick her," Manuel repeated, voice rough, knuckles brushing Vanja’s flushed cheek possessively. "Clean her up."
Joshua swallowed hard. His pulse raged in his throat. For a man built on discipline, the unraveling of control was intoxicating. He dropped to his knees, the hardwood biting into his skin. Vanja’s legs trembled as he hooked an arm beneath her knee, spreading her wider. The sight wrecked him—Manuel’s cum leaking from her swollen cunt, her inner thighs slick with it. He exhaled sharply, breath hot against her skin before dragging his tongue through the mess in one long, filthy stroke.
Vanja gasped, back arching off the floor. "Fuck—Josh—"
"Taste it," Manuel growled, fingers tightening in her hair. "Taste *us*."
Joshua groaned against her, lapping at her with obscene hunger, tongue delving inside her to gather every drop. The salt-bitter tang of their spend mixed with her own arousal, thick on his tongue. He worked her clit with the flat of his mouth, sucking gently before biting down, making her cry out. His cock throbbed, neglected, pre-cum beading at the tip.
Manuel watched, jaw clenched, hand stroking himself through his trousers. "Good. Just like that."
Joshua didn’t stop until she was shaking, thighs clamping around his head, her third orgasm ripping through her with a choked sob. He pulled back, lips glistening, chest heaving.
Vanja reached for him blindly, fingers tangling in his sweat-damp hair. "Kiss me," she demanded, voice wrecked.
Joshua didn’t hesitate. He crushed his mouth to hers, letting her taste herself, taste *them* on his tongue. The kiss was filthy, deep, teeth clashing, breath mingling. When they broke apart, Manuel’s smirk was sharp, satisfied.
"You can come back whenever you want, Kimmich," he said, thumb brushing Vanja’s swollen bottom lip. "As long as you understand—she’s mine. *She* decides what and how."
Joshua exhaled a shaky laugh, nodding. "Yeah. Fuck, Manu, she’s amazing."
Manuel grinned, dark and possessive. "She really is."
Vanja’s breathless chuckle dissolved into a moan as Manuel hauled her up, her body limp against his. The night wasn’t over. Not even close.