Striker stands and Breaker moves in, both at the ready.
“Be a good girl and open again for me, Tiny Thing,” Breaker whispers, pressing the head of his cock to her lips. She greedily sucks him in, blindly reaching for Striker. He grasps her hand, guiding her to him, and she wraps him in a tight fist. Breaker pops free of her mouth, and she turns, sucking in Striker’s cock as Reaper moves, fucking into her, rubbing against me in slow, gentle strokes.
“Suck it, naughty girl,” he rasps. “Take all these cocks.”
Breaker fists her hair, holding her steady as Striker buries himself in her mouth, head falling back as she takes him deep. Breaker’s hand slides to her jaw, his thumb wiping a line of saliva down her chin, guiding her from cock to cock.
“Come on,” Striker says, gripping her throat. “Suck it just like that, beautiful. Let me fill that dirty mouth like I filled your pussy.”
Reaper slams into her, the impact rocking us both. Every muscle in me draws up tight until I can’t breathe. She gags on Striker, but she doesn’t stop. She’s greedy and insatiable, gravelly moans ripping from her.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” I rasp, my voice filthy.
Everything devolves into animal logic, growing hungrier. The wet, messy slap of skin. Her muffled moans. The sensation of her squeezing around us, of Reaper’s hot length dragging along mine, bleeding together until we’re all just sound and sensation careening toward ruin. Nothing but rutting, hungry beasts.
Reaper wraps a fist in her hair and yanks her back, away from Striker’s cock. Breaker slips back into her mouth with a messy, desperate sound.
“Good girl, take it all, take everything.” Breaker groans. He drives deeper, both hands on her head now, holding her to him as he rocks into her throat.
Every time Reaper pushes in, she clenches tighter, and I can barely do anything but hang on, my nails in the dirt as he fucks her. When she pulses hard, her body trembling, Breaker pulls free of her mouth and she gasps.
“You can’t come yet,” Reaper grates, every word lined with raw desperation. “Be a good girl and beg for us, Kitten.”
The “Please, please, please. Please let me come,” that rips from her throat has me slipping over the edge.
She gasps, her cunt pulsing, milking, her nails raking down my chest. That cut of pain unravels me. I drive up into her, and lightning snaps down my spine, shattering the world around into a thousand pinpoints of light, until I’m nothing but heat, exploding like a million supernovas. Faintly, I’m aware of Reaper’s grating growl, his jerky movements. His cock pulsing, dragging ruinous pleasure along mine, and pushing me into oblivion.
When the world comes back around, I blink into focus, realizing I’m grasping her thighs brutally, and let her go. Above me, Striker’s combing fingers through her hair as she licks at his cock, sucking cum from the tip. Breaker pumps himself, his cum covering her neck, slipping down her chest onto me. When they let her go, she falls forward, boneless.
The world hums, the dark woods, pulsing with life. It’s like every inch of my skin, every sense, is awake for the first time in my life. Delilah breathes against my neck, soft and shuddering, and it breaks something in me. The need to protect her, to keep her, both of them,allof them, burns hotter than before.
Weaving my fingers into her hair, I breathe her in, taking her and the cold air into my lungs. She whimpers when Reaper slips free, his cock slipping against mine again before he stands.
His chest heaves as he sucks in lungful after lungful, his face slick with sweat, cheeks red. Tucking himself back into his pants, he licks his lips, ripping his eyes from mine as he swipeshis brow, then slips his mask back on. “Come on. Let’s get her inside where it’s warm.”
Chapter 53
Delilah
Ijoltawake,adistantslam shooting like lightning through sleep and forcing me conscious. Rolling to my side, I wince at the ache between my thighs. I glance toward the fireplace, now just low orange embers, barely lending any light or heat to the room. Shifting, grit drags across the sheets under me. Heat blooms at the memory of us all surrounded by dark woods, fucking like animals. I squeeze my legs together, loving the deep ache, but when I feel the mess, now dried, still lingering on my skin, I decide a shower is in order.
Likenow.
I vaguely remember pleading with them as Viper carried me inside, to just let me sleep. That I’d bathe later. Being I passed out, he must have just let me sleep, though I fleetingly remember him placing kisses on my temple, whispering promises to return and clean me up soon.
I run a hand under Striker’s enormous shirt they dressed me in before carrying me back, trailing a finger along the skin of my thigh to my core, sinking into the memory of what we did.
Fucked. Owned. Claimed.
It fizzles through my head like a fever dream.
The entire thing felt like one.
A soft rustle of fabric makes me freeze. I bolt up, my gaze landing on the chair by the window. It’s dark enough that I think at first it’s Reaper, but the faint glow of the fire outlines his sharp jaw. His perfect nose. Panic slams into me as he stands, eyes catching the embers, lighting them like blue flames.
Hatred burns through me as he stares at me, slowly crossing the room.
“Why are you in here?” I ask Fallon, pulling the blankets up, aware I’m wearing nothing but Striker’s shirt and my socks, along with gritty dirt and cum. “Where are they?”
