Page 56 of The Devils' Darling

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask him.

He nods. “Yeah, I just wanted to watch.”

With the other two Devils still inside me, I pull him closer and kiss him on the mouth. “I love you,” I tell him. “Never forget that.”

Chapter 21

Kirill

I stay where I am, focused on Mackenzie’s poor, swollen, red pussy. Dom slides out first, and then Tino, followed by a rush of their mixed cum.

Mackenzie’s pussy lips are still parted, and she’s so engorged, it makes my dick almost come without being touched. She scoots over the men and sits on the towel and then shocks the shit out of me when she leans back against the tangled mess that is Dom and Tino and lifts her legs in the air. Her knees are pressed together, so her pussy is presented squeezed between her legs, all puffy and leaking milky cum.

She’s fucking perfect—all my wet dreams in one hot package.

“Do you want to add your contribution?” She whispers the question.

I do want to. More than anything. She’s a beautifully obscene picture, and I want to come all over her peachy pussy. I can’t, though.

The tension builds in me. The sense of there being someone watching us, even though there isn’t. The way those men looked at her pussy the exact same way I am now, but without her consent.

I rake my fingers through my hair. “Fuck. I need to go.”

“What?” She puts her feet down on the towel so she’s now just hugging her knees. “Kirill, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just want some space. I just lost my fucking father, and you guys are playing sex games.”

Shit. I don’t mean that. I don’t begrudge them. Or at least, I don’t begrudge her. The other two, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now.

Mackenzie’s face falls, and I hate myself a little. “Don’t, Kukla. It’s okay. I love you, but I need some time to myself.”

She nods. “Okay. But will you … can I see you tomorrow?” Her voice is small.

“Yes, tomorrow.”

“Kirill,” Dom says, but I ignore him as I walk out of the room.

I am so hard, I’m going to burst. My head is all fucked up. The stuff they did to us in that basement turned me on, but I hated it. Yet my mind goes back to it, and how amazing it felt to fuck her there, with the heightened adrenaline of the situation.

I feel as if I’m going to scream, or break something, or murder someone, so I go straight to my room.

The minute I’m in there, I’m pushing my pants and briefs down and grabbing my cock like a crazed person. I’m so hard I hiss in shock when I get hold of it. Fuck. I’ve never been this sensitized.

One hand is on my cock, the other bracing myself against the wall next to my bed. I work myself hard and fast, my teeth gritted, my ass muscles bunched and tight. The room is filled with the whacking of my hand on my dick. I masturbate faster, my bicep burning and bulging. I know I won’t last long. I’ve been desperate to come the entire time I’d been watching our doll with Dom and Tino. I didn’t even know I had the sort of self-control it took to stop me joining in with them.

Even as I chase my orgasm, my head races with thoughts I can’t seem to control or understand. Mackenzie full of Dom and Tino. Mackenzie, showing me her pussy like that. Mackenzie showing it to those men and how I hated it. Yet now, the thought is making me hot in the sickest, darkest way.

My climax rises through me, tightening my balls and condensing in my cock. I give in to it with a shout.

Milky cum sprays the wall as I climax so hard I see stars.

Collapsing onto my bed, I am horrified to see I’m still half hard, and still horny. Am I turning into my father?

He was famous for fucking for hours. A child should never know this about their parents, but I heard the girls he kept around in his clubs talking sometimes when I visited him there. One of them said to another girl about how Grigoriy had fucked her twice and come twice and then immediately fucked her friend’s face and come again, all over her chin.

I’d been about fifteen at the time and weirded out to hear them talk about him that way. It made me sick. Now here I am, coming over the thought of what happened in that basement and ready to go again.

Do I have his sickness in me? His spirit? Maybe, when he died, a part of his soul entered me? Like a fucking possession.

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