One step back, her calves hit the side of the chaise and she falls back, all that warm brown skin on velvet. I touch her chin, drawing her face to the side, and she curls toward me.
“Open your mouth,” I tell her, thumb rubbing over the soft flesh of her lips. She parts, and I guide myself in until she’s stretched around me. I groan at the warmth, fingers threading around the back of her head. “That’s it, fuck your Daddy.”
At the end of the chaise, DK and Hunter crowd around her, pulling her legs apart.
“Spread wide so we can see you,” DK says, teasing her folds. He slides two fingers inside her pussy while Hunter runs his fingers over her clit, toying with the piercing.
She moans around my cock, the vibration traveling through her body. She’s close, still aroused from Hunter fucking her tits. DK finally puts her out of her misery, dropping his tongue to flick over her clit while he thrusts his fingers inside. It’s fast–hard–her body shaking and releasing muffled cries around my cock. DK doesn’t stop, licking her through it, drawing it out until she’s whimpering, oversensitive. It feels fucking glorious, and I grab the base of my cock to keep from coming too soon.
She falls against the chaise, body limp, chest rising and falling in shallow, sated breaths. The garnets on her nipples catch the dying firelight, tiny red sparks against sweat-slick skin. She’s beautiful like this–utterly spent, utterly ours, the longest night wrapping around her like velvet.
Hunter crosses the room and pours a glass of water from the pitcher on the bar. He brings it back to her and holds it up to hermouth, steadying the rim while she drinks. A thin trickle escapes the corner of her lips; he catches it with his thumb, wiping it away.
“Thank you,” she says, voice hoarse and soft. Her hand drifts up, fingers tracing the ink on his bicep–the dark lines representing the math and science that make up his world. She lingers there, like touching him anchors her. For once, he allows her to do it. I’m not sure if his control is better or if it’s just the fact that DK and I are both here to keep him in check.
“Do you need a break?” DK asks from where he’s kneeling beside her, voice low, careful.
She shakes her head, eyes half-lidded, but clear. “No. I’m ready.”
The words land like a match in dry grass.
I stand. My trousers are already open; I shove them the rest of the way down and step out of them. She watches me move, gaze following the flex of muscle, the scars, the unmasked face she’s still getting used to seeing. There’s no fear there–only want.
“On your hands and knees, wicked one,” I tell her.
She obeys immediately–rolling over, palms pressing into the velvet cushion, knees spreading wide. The sight of her arched like this—back dipped, ass lifted, new piercings glinting between her breasts–is obscene and perfect.
I move behind her first. My hands settle on her hips, thumbs stroking the dimples at the base of her spine. She’s still slick–wet and swollen and ready. I notch myself at her entrance, tease her with the head for one long second and then sink in.
She moans–low and broken, fingers curling into the chaise. I bottom out with a groan, holding still for a moment to let her adjust, to feel the way she flutters around me. Tight. Hot.Ours.
Damon’s already in front of her. His hard cock flushed dark, hand wrapped around the base. He guides himself to her mouth and she opens for him without hesitation, taking him deep, cheeks hollowing on the first pull.
“I love your mouth, you know that?” he says, pushing in. “The King loves your pussy, and Hunt,” he nods over to where her third Baron is sitting in the armchair, legs spread, hand wrapped aroundhis cock. He strokes himself lazily, eyes never leaving her–watching the way her body jolts with my every thrust, the way her tits sway, garnets swinging like pendulums, the way her spine arches when I hit that spot inside her that makes her whimper.
“You were made for this,” Hunter mutters, voice rough. “Taking all your men, one after the other.”
I start moving in long strokes that rock her forward onto DK every time I drive in. The chaise creaks under us. The fire pops. Her moans vibrate around his length, making him curse under his breath.
I can’t look away. The curve of her back, the sheen of sweat coating her spine, the way she pushes back to meet me even while she’s sucking DK down. Her pussy is warm and wet, ready for me. Hunter’s right. She was made for this, made to take my cock. Made to suck. To come. Every inch of her body, mind and soul.
She’s not broken like the others. We heal her. We make her better.Stronger.
There’s no more holding back, not while thinking that way. I pick up speed. Harder now. Deeper. My hands slide up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, then higher to tug gently on the new rings. She cries out around DK’s cock, the sound muffled and desperate.
DK groans, fingers threading into her hair. “Fuck–keep doing that.”
I do. Tug again. Thrust harder, feeling the tight clench of her muscles around me. She comes apart between us–body locking, walls fluttering wildly around me, a high, keening sound muffled by DK’s length. I don’t stop, fucking her through it, drawing it out until she’s trembling, a sob caught in her throat.
DK pulls out of her mouth with a wet pop, strokes himself twice, and spills across her lips and chin–hot, thick ropes that drip down her throat. She licks at them instinctively, eyes glassy.
Gorgeous.
She’s oversensitive, shaking, and Damon holds her upright. “You’ve got this, Doll Baby. Hold on and let the King fill you up.”
I give it to her, hard and fast, DK bracing her body with hisstrength. The chaise rocks beneath us. I don’t think it’s ever been this good. Ever felt thisright.Not with the way she feels between us. Not with how she takes it. Takes us.
I’m lost in it, lost in her, when she comes again, back arching, nails raking down DK’s arms, a sob tearing from her throat. I follow right after–burying myself deep, spilling inside her with a low growl, hips jerking through every pulse.
