To the eyes of the audience, that shiver probably looked like acting—mock terror at the men with whom she was now sharing the stage. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Fairchild loved it when her teammates touched her. She loved it when they played rough. And she loved how sexy Reece looked now as he came striding slowly toward her, smirking through the pain he wasn’t really feeling.
She lashed out with one leg, then the other, but Reece caught her ankles easily, and held them firmly, keeping her legs slightly spread while Nash continued to hold her from behind.
“Well, well, well,” Reece chuckled darkly. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a fighter.”
“That’s good,” growled Dutton, who had recovered from Fairchild’s kick. “It’s more fun when they fight.”
Fairchild felt another shiver race up her spine. The big, soft-spoken teddy bear could be quite scary when he wanted to be. That shouldn’t have been so surprising—hewasa Merc, after all—but it was easy to forget that fact when he was preparing gourmet meals. Now, however, his intense stare drove the point home.
Dutton took hold of one of Fairchild’s ankles, and together he and Reece spread her legs apart, exposing her center to the crowd. With his free hand, Dutton pulled the crotch of her panties to one side. Then Reece reached down and touched her bare pussy. She was dripping wet.
“Damn,” Reece said, nice and loud so everyone could hear. “I’d say our little fighter is all hot and bothered.” He rubbed his fingers more deeply between the lips of her sex. “You like that, sweetheart?”
“N-no!” Fairchild said, trying to suppress the whimper in her voice. “Please,” she begged. “Let me go.”
Reece laughed, and the sound brought goosebumps to her skin.
“Sweetheart,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere until I’ve had myself a taste of this pretty little cunt.”
He dropped to his knees in front of her and buried his face between her open thighs, kissing her warm, wet lips with his own, working his tongue deep between her slippery folds. Fairchild cried out at the instantaneous shock of pleasure.Then she remembered she was supposed to be acting, and she adjusted her tone.
“No!” she begged, struggling to pretend. “Stop! Please stop…”
Reece didn’t stop, of course. He kept licking her and licking her, turning his face to one side to let the audience see. Had they been alone, he wouldn’t have done that, but there were eyes watching them from the darkness now, eyes that hungered for that glimpse of tongue on skin, for that glistening wetness of saliva mixing with hot, feminine arousal.
He shoved two fingers deep inside her, fucking her knuckle-deep, stroking her sensitive inner spot while his tongue took care of her clit. Her first climax hit her so quickly, she almost didn’t see it coming.
“No!” Fairchild shouted through her pleasure. “Please, no!”
And silently:Yes! Yes! Yes!
Fingers on her face. Dutton’s rough fingers, turning her to look at him, forcing her to look deep into his cruel eyes as his comrade made her come.
“What are you talking about?” he asked with a snicker in his voice. “You want this, woman. You know you want it.”
“No!” Fairchild lied with all her might.
A moment later, the Mercs proved her wrong, not with their words, but with their hands. Dutton grabbed one side of her blouse, and Nash, who was still holding her from behind, grabbed the other. Together, they ripped the garment open, along with her bra, exposing her naked chest for everyone tosee. Her nipples were as stiff and hard as the buttons that went skittering across the stage, dancing away between the footlights.
Her breasts were bared just long enough for the crowd to see her obvious arousal. Then the Mercs claimed them, one apiece, Dutton with his mouth, and Nash with his free hand, squeezing her so hard the flesh went pale around his fingers.
“No!” she screamed as a second orgasm rocked her.
Then a third.
A fourth.
And on into a seemingly endless succession of orgasms to which she had no choice but to surrender. The pleasure wasn’t merely between her legs; it filled every part of her, from her gasping lips down to the tips of her curling toes.
When, at last, the Mercs released her, she slumped to her knees between them, her muscles weak from coming, her heart racing with everything they had just done to her—and everything they were about to do.
They used her mouth then, Reece first, then Dutton, then Nash, then Reece again, passing her around like a communal toy, sharing her between them like a doll. They forced themselves deep into her throat, gagging her, until hot tears ran down her face, adding, she hoped, to the illusion of the show.
“I’m calling dibs on that ass,” Dutton snarled. “Bend her over.”
The other two Mercs bent her and held her in place as he moved into position behind her. He ripped her panties away just as Reece had done that first time in the briefing room, and Fairchild gasped at the sensation. Then she gasped again as shefelt the tip of his cock pressing against her, wet and slippery with her saliva.
She was slippery too. Before they had come out on stage, Reece had applied a liberal amount of lubrication to her anus, working it deep inside with his fingers so she would be ready when the time came. Fairchild wasn’t about to take a dickback therewithout any lube.
