“I’ll take her then, always liked mine feisty. Crazy bitches are always the wildest in bed.” This voice is silky, soothing, but there’s a dumb essence lacing it, as if the owner of the voice has shit for brains.
“Neither of you are touching her. As much as it makes my skin crawl, she’s mine. My future wife. So don’t go near her.” Ah, that’s the raspy drawl of my soon-to-be husband. Lucky me.
My leg starts itching and I have to fight the urge to move. The bed has no comfort, no substance. It feels like I’m lying on weightless clouds and I’m about to fall right through.
“Wait, what? That’s not what you’ve been saying this whole time.”
“I changed my mind. Now she’s here, it doesn’t sit right that anyone but her husband touches her.”
How chivalrous. I’m pretty sure my new fiancé’s first act of love was sedating me with a needle in my arm, now he’s doing me the courtesy of not sharing my body with his friends. How did I get so lucky?
“You said you weren’t gonna touch her either.” There’s the third voice again. It’s a deep one, monotonous and sounds quite bored.
“Exactly. Since I’m not gonna touch her, no one will. She’ll live the rest of her life without a single nut.”
What a charming piece of shit. Why won’t he touch me? Why the hell am I becoming his wife if he doesn’t even like me? My throat starts scratching like sandpaper wedged down there. My leg itches like crazy. I’m going to need to move soon before worms crawl all over my skin.
“God, I know how that feels for forty days, how fucking antsy it makes me, fuck knows what a lifetime will do to a bitch in heat. Especially this little slut.” The silky one sounds frustrated, as if the mere memory of going without pussy for forty days is a hell he doesn’t want to experience again.Try living in a cell.
Better yet, tryneverhaving sex. Any that’s consensual, anyway.
“So, you’re just gonna leave this fine piece of ass unbroken, untouched? You’re not even going to consummate the marriage?” Deep Voice says.
“Oh, I’ll break her in if she steps out of line. Best case scenario, she keeps out of my way, keeps the money flowing, and we’ll have no issues.”
What the hell? Isn’t this supposed to be some fairytale for me? Oh wait, that was in my naïve childhood dreams.
“And worst case?” Deep Voice says.
“Worst case…” A sigh that blows resignation in the air. “I’ll waste a lot of precious fucking time house training a little bitch to follow orders.”
“So how you gonna breed her if you don’t stick your dick in her cunt?” Silky-Smooth Voice says.
“There’re other ways to inseminate her without sticking my dick in her.”
My entire body tenses so tight I’m sure it’s noticeable.
But they continue. They’re probably not even looking at me.
“I don’t think it’s valid until you consummate, bro. Until that day comes, I’d say she was fair game,” Deep Voice says.
“You’re not touching her, Alf. Neither are you, Fiz. You’re not touching anyone for another fifteen days, anyway.”
Okay, we’ve got an Alf and a Fiz. I suppose it’s a bad thing I know my fiancé’s friends’ names before my fiancé’s.
“Urgh, don’t remind me,” Silky-Smooth Voice says, grimly.
Deep Voice says, “My balls have never been this blue. I thought it’d get easier, but I swear my libido has just got worse each year.”
Are they all abstaining from sex? For what?
“It’s a fucking joke, I need to be balls deep in pussy, my brain can’t function. Let me just feel her, bro, just one quick –”
I feel a presence draw closer and my eyes spring open, survival mode kicking in. First thing I do is scratch my damn leg, then swallow the cotton lodged in my throat, and then finally, I take in the three men before me. Whoever had leant forward to touch me sprung back into position too quickly, none of themlook like they’ve moved closer to me as they all stand at the foot of whoever’s huge, four-poster bed I’m lying on.
All three men are staring at me. Cross-armed and sharp jawed.
The one on the farthest left has an unsettling smirk on his face. One that says he’d happily eat me alive right now. Dark hair that coils in loose, lazy curls all around his head. His T-shirt hugs his body, dipping in the middle of two square pectorals that seem even more puffed out by his veiny arms crossed beneath them as he assesses me. Dark brown skin, dark brown eyes. Dark, devilish glare.
