Page 20 of The Devils' Darling

Pale-Eyes directs his question to Kirill. “Tell us how it feels to be inside her. Describe her. Is she tight and wet?”

Kirill ignores him and slips his fingers from my pussy. He replaces them with his cock, positioning himself at my opening from behind. He rubs himself in my wetness, groaning a little, then he dips inside me, just the tip, stretching me.

I push back on him. “Give it to me. I want you.”

With a growl, he grabs my hips and then rams himself deep, shoving me against the bars.

He slams into me, hard and fast, as if he’s wanting and needing this to be over. I am too, but also, I don’t want it to end, as it is a respite from the terror. While I’m feeling Kirill in me, and the sharp, painful pleasure he is giving me, everything else fades.

The danger, the fucked-up-ness of this situation, all serve to heighten the arousal I’m feeling.

“Oh, God,” I cry. “Oh, fuck.”

One of his hands is between my thighs, his fingers working my clit. The other is on my breast, using it to hold me to him, so we’re like one entity, unable to tell where one of us finishes and the other starts.

Heat and tension build, and the air is filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing. It’s cold down here, but now our skin is damp with sweat. The way we’re fucking is so raw, animalistic. Dirty, filthy rutting. I don’t care. Despite everything, I find myself craving this connection. Being with him—and Dom and Tino, too—is when I feel the most alive. Maybe I’m addicted to them, or perhaps it’s more than that, but I’ll always want them.

Even in this fucked up situation.

I didn’t believe I’d reach climax, not like this, with two strangers watching, taking their own pleasure in the palms of their hands, but I can’t fight the unmistakable rise of it inside me. My thighs and stomach muscles are taut, and I gasp and moan.

“Kirill…oh, God, Kirill.”

Kirill keeps his face buried in my neck, as though he’s hiding from the reality of what’s happening and is losing himself in me instead. I look up, though, and can’t help but stare at the two massive cocks, angry, hard, and the faces of the men twisted in pained desire. It’s sick, and yet, I feel a kind of power. They want to be me and Kirill. They want what we have, but they never will get it.

“I’m going to come,” I gasp. “Oh, fuck, I’m going to come.”

“Jesus, Duchess.”

“Don’t stop. Oh, shit. Like that, yes, just like that.” I stare at Rufus and my gaze is defiant as the pleasure builds. The man looks away, glancing down at the floor, his fist slowing for a moment.

Yes, you fucker, I think. This is what you can’t deal with. Me being in control and taking what I want. They want a scared victim, and instead, I’m going to enjoy this moment.

Kirill angles himself perfectly, hitting the place inside me that tumbles me over the edge. For a few seconds, I forget men are watching, I forget we are captives, and give in completely to the utter bliss that courses through me. My pussy clenches around Kirill’s cock, milking him for his cum. My fingers grip the bars as I hold on tight, needing the anchor against the intensity of the orgasm.

“Fuck, Kukla. I’m going to fill you up.”

“Yes, yes,” I gasp. “I want you.”

He gives in with a groan, and I feel him pulse inside me, our heated wetness combining.

We slump together, both of us panting hard. My heart is racing.

Rufus steps forward, bringing himself right up to the bars.

His upper lip lifts in a curl of satisfaction, and he gives a grunt as he comes, hot seed spurting from his slit, and raining down on me and Kirill. The salty scent of semen fills my nostrils. Rufus’s gaze holds mine now, triumphant as he thinks he’s once more gained the upper hand, so I don’t even let myself flinch.

But Kirill lets out a yell of dismay, and his hold on me tightens in anger. I put a soothing hand behind me. He can’t get us killed. Not now. Not when we might actually get out of here if his dad is satisfied by this depraved spectacle.

“You son of a bitch,” he growls. “You will pay for that.”

Rufus only laughs.

Pale-Eyes steps forward. He hasn’t come yet, his hugely erect cock still fisting in his hand. “Now spread those legs,” he says. “The boss will want to know the job was done properly, and that wasn’t all just an act.”

Kirill tenses around me. “You think that was an act?”

“Pull your cock from her cunt and keep her panties to one side. I want to see the cum dripping out of her.”

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