The fat head of Marcus’s cock settles at my entrance, alongside the one already tearing me open. My nails claw into Veyn’s shoulders, anchoring myself for the pain I know I’m about to feel, but it never comes.
“Oh God!” I wail, head falling back against Marcus’s shoulder.
“Made for this,” he taunts, forcing himself deeper into space there shouldn’t possibly be any. “Made to get stuffed and used. Fuck, look at you taking it. Hold her. I need to cum.”
Veyn takes me and cradles me while Marcus pumps inside me. As he grips my hips and pounds like I’m just a hole to use.
“Fuck, Linny!”
With a growl, his hot cum squirts inside me. It drenches my walls and Veyn’s steady shaft.
Veyn stays in even when Marcus pulls free. The loss, combined with the slight burn, has me tightening my hold on the demon.
He pulls back. I’m set in the dais and I’m vaguely aware that there is no blood, no scorch marks to indicate that Bernard Duval was burnt alive where I sit. He pulls out of me. Inch by inch, and I see him. I see the thick wedge of meat he frees and swallows in the shadows. The absence has my body shuddering at the loss.
But with him, Marcus’s release spills out, thick and white. It collects beneath me when Veyn guides my feet up onto the edges of the table and makes me sit in a squat so their handiwork is on full display.
“I have to see,” he murmurs, guiding my knees apart. “Show us what you let us do to your tight cunt.”
Marcus comes to stand next to the demon and they both stare at the gap, the steady puddle growing beneath me.
“Fuck, Linny, what did you do?” Marcus fills me on two fingers. “Your little pussy is such a mess, baby.”
A third finger.
A fourth.
“Marcus!”
“Shhh…” His breathing is ragged. Rough. “You can take it. You’re so open. So wet.”
Fifth finger.
Veyn appears behind me, catching me when my support falters and I tumble back. His hold circles my middle, tucks beneath my knees. Holding me for the other man.
“How deep can you take him?” he asks me, but Marcus is already pushing.
His knuckles protrude beneath my skin. Push against that spot.
“I wish you never let us do this,” Marcus pants, eyes wild. “All I want is to see what else I can fit in here. How fucking wide I can stretch your hole.”
I cum all over his fist.
I spray my release in a hot surge of liquid heat that drenches Marcus who curses and pounds his hand inside. His head drops and he sucks my clit and licks my soaked folds, never taking his hand out.
Not even when he moves up my body with wet lips and captures my nipple.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”
I’m still spasming and squirting when I feel him nudging for entrance. Fitting his cock into his fist inside me.
My scream is of raw pain and such a twisted pleasure. It horrifies me as I watch him jerk his erection inside me.
And I’m helping.
I’m using Veyn and pushing myself down over Marcus. I’m meeting every stroke. I need it so badly, he stops and I’m slamming myself over him, chasing the blinding ecstasy.
We both cum and the mess, the smell and sound will haunt me. There’s a white pool coating the table. It runs down the edges and covers Marcus’s arm. His chest. It’s dripping from his cock. His hands are smeared with it. My quivering thighs are slick.
