Page 3 of Deadmen's Queen

“I want to come.” I want you to fuck me till I see stars, I thought, but I didn’t dare speak the words.

“Do you trust me, Paige?”

“Yes,” I gasped as he slid a third finger inside me. “Bast, please…”

I heard him spit behind me and felt the warm wetness sliding down between my ass cheeks. His thumb smoothed over it, pressing deeper and my pussy throbbed with need. I moaned loudly as he slowly pushed his thumb inside, my legs trembling as I held onto the slippery tiled wall, praying I could keep standing up long enough.

He pulled out and pushed in again.

“Oh,” I cried out. “God, Bast…”

“You like that don't you?” His voice was husky, as he continued to thrust his thumb inside me. “You're so tight, Paige. I can’t wait till I get to fuck this pussy. And this ass. Maybe Tristan and I could fuck you at the same time. Two cocks filling you up.”

I whimpered in response, the pleasure so intense I could barely think. My body moved on its own accord, seeking more of him. He began to move faster, and I cried out again, feeling myself growing closer to the edge. He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against my neck.

“I haven't even started yet.” He reached around to slide a thumb over my clit, the sudden touch sending shocks of pleasure through me.

“Fuck,” I gasped as he began moving in earnest, pumping his fingers into my pussy and his thumb into my ass simultaneously. His other hand was unrelenting on my clit, rubbing in tight circles that had me squirming against him.

“Such a dirty little bitch,” he muttered. “So fucking greedy. Your pussy is dripping wet for me, Paige.”

My body trembled against him, every thrust from his fingers sent jolts of sensation coursing through me. His hand on my clit was ruthless, relentless; each circular motion pushing me closer to the precipice. He pushed against me, using the force of his hips to drive his fingers deeper, his cock, hard again, pressing against me, so close.

“I want to hear you scream my name, Paige,” he growled. “Come for me.”

His words were enough to send me over the edge. My mind went blank as pleasure coursed through my body. I cried out his name, my nails scraping down the tiled wall as I came undone.

He held me up as my legs gave out from under me, his fingers still buried deep inside me, and I felt his body shake as he jerked himself off behind me, hard and fast. He grunted as I felt his hot cum coat my ass and run down over my pussy, as I leaned one hand against the tiles while he bent over me as he gasped for breath.

“Fuck, Paige. What the hell are you doing to me? Your pussy has me craving it like I’m some fucking addict.”

I said nothing, breathing hard, but privately agreeing with him. Since that night of the induction, these men had awakened something in me that never seemed to be satisfied. The more I got, the more I craved.

I stayed pressed against him, my chest heaving, my mind still a whirlwind of pleasure. My body felt electrified, every nerve singed and alight. Bast started to slowly withdraw his fingers from me, causing a whimper of loss to escape my lips.

I turned around to face him, and he bent down to kiss me, gently this time. I sighed against his lips, and he gave a rueful chuckle.

“Now we really do have to go.”

Bast washed me again, this time efficiently, without lingering in certain areas, and I did the same for him. He shampooed and conditioned my hair, rubbing at my scalp so that I moaned in sheer pleasure.

“Don’t make those noises, Paige,” he said sternly. “I really don’t have the time to make you come again.”

I laughed and bit down on my lip as he finished. Turning the water off, he passed me a dark fluffy towel, and I wrapped it around myself and another smaller one around my hair, then followed him into the bedroom. As he got dressed in his clothes from the night before, I fished new underwear out of the drawer, and got dressed again, pulling on my top and dungarees that I’d been wearing before I’d changed into my waitress get up. I sat down to comb through my hair, but he appeared behind me, pulling the comb from my fingers and getting to work on the tangles. The soft pull of the comb against my scalp was soothing, almost hypnotic.

“You have beautiful hair, Paige. Why do you straighten it so much?”

“I don't do it as much anymore,” I said. “I’m enjoying having them back to be honest.”

He gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“When I was growing up,” I explained, “I was expected to dress and look a certain way. That meant straightening my hair because curls were considered too wild.”

Bast paused briefly before resuming his gentle rhythm. “Well,” he said. “Your curls are beautiful Paige and if anyone thinks otherwise, they can go fuck themselves.”

I watched as he set the comb down and ran his fingers through the damp blonde strands. He opened a drawer in the vanity and pulled out a hair tie. Gently, he pulled my hair back from my face and started braiding my hair. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling. After finishing the braid, he let his fingers trail down my neck, over my bare shoulder causing me to shiver.

“Your curls are beautiful,” he murmured into my ear. “Wild and free. Just like you should be.”

---