Roman unties the gag from the back of my head.
“I’m silencing you with my cock now,” he says.
He swings his leg across my chest, then angles his hips to bring his cock directly in front of my mouth. He uses his knees to pin down my arms and grips my hair in his hand. He lifts my head slightly and pushes the head of his cock to my lips.
“Open up, sweetheart. I’m fucking your throat.”
Obediently, I do. I’m lost in the feelings happening between my thighs. Roman can use my mouth however he wants. I’m high on sensations and a willing slave to them.
Mal and Cain have pulled their cocks from the inside of their boxer shorts and are playing with themselves while they play with me. They’re still wearing their masks, too, and the whole experience is just so erotic, I think I might lose my mind.
Roman’s cock slides over my tongue, hitting the back of my throat. He’s thick and hard and musky, the taste of him coating my tongue. He’s taking no prisoners. His expression is fierce despite his injuries. His hips jerk back and forth as he fucks my mouth and throat. I gag and choke, tears filling my eyes, but my orgasm is building. I no longer need a piece of material to keep me quiet.
Cain jams the hairbrush in deep, and my pussy pulses. I arch my hips from the bed, groaning around Roman’s cock.
Hot cum splatters across my thighs and stomach. Cain curses from behind his mask, and then I hear Malachi groan, “Oh, fuck.”
I come hard, but I can’t cry out. Instead, I gurgle and choke around Roman’s cock as pleasure spasms through me. He hisses air over his teeth, and a stream of cum spurts down my throat. He’s already so deep that I don’t even get the chance to swallow.
He softens and slides out of my mouth, his hold on my hair releasing. He climbs off my wrists, then picks up my right hand and massages my lower arm, then does the same with the left one.
Mal and Cain remove the hairbrush and candle from my body. They toss the used condoms in the trash as Malachi pads to the bathroom and returns with a warm damp washcloth to wipe me down. They wipe my skin clean and massage my limbs, until I’m floating away on a blissful wave of endorphins.
“What a good girl,” Cain says, gazing down at me from behind the mask. “You can sleep now.”
Cleaned up and sated, they redress me and pull the bedcovers back over my body. I’m snuggled in and warm and rested as Roman curls beside me, fitting his body against my back. The door clicks as Cain and Mal slip out of the room and head back downstairs.
I close my eyes. It’s like I was visited in the night by three sex demons. They’ve left me content, and now I know I will sleep.
CHAPTER 13
Cain
I’m the first awake.
It’s five-thirty, and we’ll be leaving soon. I don’t want to worry about what lies ahead, but I’d be crazy if I didn’t have some anxiety about it. The thing that worries me the most is the possibility that the Prophet is expecting us. If we’re right about Daisy, and she’s double-crossed Ophelia, we could be walking into a setup. I tell myself that one thing the Prophet won’t be expecting is for us to turn up armed to the hilt and with a crack force team of men.
It’s going to be a long journey. We’re taking plenty of supplies, so we won’t need too many stops, but we’re still going to require some rest breaks. For Daisy to show us the way, we need to arrive before it gets dark, or it’s going to be a struggle for her to recognize the location; though the cover of darkness will be our friend when it comes to setting up and doing a recon of the place. Will the Prophet have people watching the local roads for our arrival?
I reach out a foot and give Malachi a nudge on the opposite couch.
He jerks away. “What the?—?”
“Time to get up.”
He swings his legs around to plant his bare feet on the floor and drags both hands through his already messy dark hair. “Fuck. Feels like I only just got to sleep.”
“I know how you feel, but we need to get moving.”
“I’m calling first dibs on the bathroom,” he says, getting to his feet. “Are the others awake?”
“Not that I’ve seen. Let’s leave Daisy as long as possible.”
“Agreed.”
I leave Malachi to use the bathroom and head up the spiral staircase to the bedroom. I tap my knuckles on the door and enter. Roman sits on the edge of the bed, carefully pulling on a t-shirt. The adjoining bathroom door opens, and Ophelia appears, already fully dressed.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” I ask her.
