Still masked, Malachi drops back into the space between my thighs and places the tip of the handle at my pussy. It’s cold and hard and unmoving, and I arch my hips, inviting it in. I’m so desperate to come, I’ll do so by any means.
Mal stares down at my soaking, swollen pussy and uses the handle to trace circles around my clit and slide up and down my slit. I groan with frustration, needing to be penetrated so badly.
“Please, Mal,” I beg. “Fuck me with it.”
“I like to hear you beg.”
I can’t see behind his mask, but I can tell he’s smiling.
“Fuck me, I beg you.”
“Your wish is my command.”
CHAPTER 33
Cain
Roman holdsOphelia’s legs open while Mal slowly and carefully pushes the condom-wrapped knife handle into Ophelia’s tight pussy.
She’s so wet it’s covered her thighs, and her clit is swollen and protruding. I love her clit; it gets so big when she’s aroused, and it turns me the fuck on.
He slides the knife back out, the condom creamy with her arousal, and then fucks her harder with it.
As Mal increases the pace and pushes the handle rhythmically against her G-spot, her legs start to shake.
“Let her come this time,” Roman orders.
Mal’s eyes are glued to where the knife is being lovingly gripped by Ophelia’s pussy. He really is kind of obsessed with penetrating her with whatever he can get his hands on that’s remotely cock shaped.
“Are you going to come for us, like a good girl?” Roman asks.
“God, yes, I am.” Ophelia’s voice is high and needy.
“Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” I tell her. And it is. With her small smattering of ash hair soaked by her arousal, and her lips so pink, and her pert clit, it’s heaven.
“Oh, nooooo,” she wails as she jerks up off the blanket. “Yes, yes, yes. Shit.”
Her chants of no, and yes, and oh-my-gods, are the erotic background to her pussy pulsing around the hard piece of wood invading her. I watch in utter fascination, thankful as fuck for how bright the moon is now the clouds have cleared.
Fuck, I’m going to come just from watching. I grip my cock at the base and squeeze the life out of it to stave off my imminent orgasm. I squeeze my eyes shut so I can no longer see Ophelia’s pussy clamping around the inanimate object. Gradually, the immediate urge to lose my load passes, and I’m able to breathe again.
“God, I nearly fucking came,” I complain to no one in particular.
“No,” Roman orders. “Not until you’re inside her.”
“Then get that fucking knife out of her and let me in,” I snarl at Mal.
Malachi slides the handle out of her but then frowns.
“Well, shit,” he says, holding up one hand. “I guess I didn’t wrap the blade as well as I thought.”
His palm is smeared red with blood. The blade must have cut through the fabric of the robe, but he’d been so obsessed with fucking Ophelia with it that he hadn’t noticed when it cut his palm as well.
His eyes take on a dark glaze. “Maybe it was meant to be.”
He leans over Ophelia, who is still lying on her back, dazed from the intensity of her orgasm and seemingly barely aware of what’s happening around her. Her chest rises and falls, her small breasts and hard nipples jutting into the cool night air.
Malachi covers one of her tits with his bloodied hand, smearing her nipple with his blood, and then repeats the process with her other breast. The blood turns her nipples dark in the moonlight, somehow making this even hotter than it was before.
