I’m already so swollen, so sensitive. I don’t think I can take another round, but it’s not his cock he pushes inside me.
From over my head, he grabs something off the table. I get a flash of green before the textured, glass object glides in.
“Never thought these ugly things would come in handy,” Dom drawls, working my channel with slow strokes of Mom’s pickle figurine. “How does it feel?”
Oddly good.
The cold temperatures combined with the heat Nicolas left behind, it feels nice. Not great. The slender piece isn’t nearly wide or long enough to make me see stars, but when he pulls out and rubs it through my folds, between my lips to work my clit with the hard ribs, that definitely feels good.
Over Dom’s head, Nicolas watches. He stares into my face, his cock semi hard between his fingers. He strokes lazily with every pass the pickle makes going inside me.
“Look at her, Nicky.” He pulls the object free and forces my knees to my chest so both can study my opening. “Fuck, isn’t she perfect?”
My stepbrother’s response is the white knuckled grip he has on his leaking cock. His gray eyes are practically black fixed on where his boyfriend is parting my lips with two fingers and easing the pickle back in with the other.
“I want to do the most depraved and fucked up things to this pussy,” Dom breathes. “I want to torture it until she’s screaming and squirting…”
With a snarl, his mouth fuses over my clit. Sucks hard enough to make me wail and thrash. Fingers caught in his hair.
“I’ve never squirted,” I wheeze, head falling back as the pressure builds in my belly. “I don’t think I can.”
“You will squirt for me, Isla. You’re going to squirt all down your brother’s thick cock while I fuck your ass.”
I try to protest as he works my tender clit and, swollen channel but he pins my legs down and dives deeper. Drives with the pickle as far as he can. My back comes off the carpet. My toes curl around his ears. I’m sure he hears them cracking.
“Fucking love this pussy,” he growls, right before tossing the pickle aside and forcing his tongue in its place.
“Dom!”
His dark eyes shoot up to my face, tongue still lapping.
“Try again.”
Panting, I wheeze, “Daddy.”
His fingers thrust in and curl against my upper wall.
“You know what Daddy wants.”
I do. Even as my gaze springs up to the other man. Nicolas meets my eyes and watches as I cum in Dominic’s mouth.
Finished with me, he sits back on his haunches. Both say nothing, but study me still on the floor, still exposed and open while they’re fully dressed.
“How are you feeling, baby?” Dominic asks, gently smoothing my top up over my breasts, but leaving my skirt bunched around my hips.
I’m feeling amazing.
I’m feeling better than I have in... ever.
The euphoric and delicious bliss is a warm balm soothing everything broken in me. I want to clasp it to my chest and hoard it, knowing I won’t ever feel it again.
But Nicolas is looking at me like I killed his kitten, and I don’t know how to answer.
So, I scoot back a foot and pull myself upright. My skirt falls into place and I feel mildly less exposed.
“Going to shower,” I whisper, needing to put space between me and the man sucking the warmth from the moment.
I’m not running.
