“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he snarks, throwing my words from earlier back in my face.
He’s straddling my hips, effectively pinning me beneath him. His large, tattooed hands worm under my sweater to trace the curves of my body. He palms and grips my tits, circling my nipples into stiff painful peaks. I moan as pleasure sinks its claws into me. He’s unrelenting.
“So responsive,” he drawls, as he pulls my sweater up and over my head. I’m not cold anymore, my fear of hypothermia long forgotten. This man ignites my blood. I’m burning up from a simple touch. He brushes my hair away from my face and I lean into his touch, I’m starving for it.
“Did you have a fun afternoon, little siren?” His tone is light and inquisitive but laced with malice. I tense. I hear the hidden threat woven through his sickly sweet question. This is a trap. If I say yes, it will hurt him. If I say no, he will ask why I let Nox kiss me. I stay silent as his voice finds me again.
“Are you confused about who you belong to, sweetheart? Was I not clear enough last night?” He grips the hem of my shirt and peels it up my body. He bunches it up over my eyes, another makeshift blindfold. The elastic from the built in bra keeping it snuggly placed over my eyes and restricting my arms above my body. I feel his hot breath against my skin; he smells of the forest and mint. “I do not share.”
His mouth presses against mine as I start to eagerly devour his kisses. His massive body is braced above mine, shielding me from the storm raging around us. It doesn’t compare to the one ravaging my body, mind, and soul. How can I be so fully infatuated with two men? It’s not right, I know it’s not. Yet, sadness threatens to pull me into it’s depressive embrace whenever I think about telling one of them goodbye. Ghost’s teeth sink into my lip until the tang of copper crosses my tongue. He hurts me so good, just the way I want it. He knows me so well.
His hot mouth blazes a path down my sternum, purposely ignoring my breasts that are aching for his attention. He kisses and nips my skin in a slow tortuous descent to my pussy. He nuzzles into the apex of my thighs and inhales deeply. So filthy. He groans from the euphoria my cunt brings him as he licks the seam of my leggings. He presses his mouth to my clit through the soaking wet material and sucks. The slurping sound of liquid being pulled through fabric fills the air. I’m desperate for him, wantonly grinding my clit harder against his face.
“So fucking delicious. Tell me, baby… Are you wet for me?”
Without even thinking, “Yes,” erupts from me in a mewling cry. He presses his thumb to my bud, rubbing in tight circles. The pressure he uses is perfect. His ability to wring pleasure from my body so expertly should concern me with his bedpost body count, but I don’t fucking care. I can’t judge him for who he was before he found me.
He rips his hand away from me as I’m about to cum and I groan out in annoyance.
His hand encircles my neck, pinning me beneath him. He slowly rubs his erection between my legs as he whispers in my ear, “Were you wet for the cop too, Mallory?”
Fear grips me and I struggle to free myself from beneath him. My attempts are futile as his menacing laugh fills the space around us.
“There’s no escaping me, baby. Now, answer the question.” He grinds his cock into me again, eliciting a whimper from me. Working me towards my release quickly, then stopping. I sob out my frustration.
“If you want to cum you’ll suffer through your punishment. Now, let the truth spill from your sinful little mouth.” His touch is gentle as it trails down my body, wrapping my leg around his hip as his cock strokes me slow and light. He grips my ass, then smacks it.
“Now, Mallory.”
“Yes,” I whisper
“Did you let him kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“Touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Taste you?” he growls out, clearly growing more and more infuriated with each admittance I utter. I nod.
“Jesus, baby. Did you fuck him too?” he yells, and I sob. I’m pretty sure I’m crying but behind this dripping wet shirt I can’t tell.
“No!” I scream as he rips off my blindfold shirt and tosses it across the lawn. He practically throws himself off me, disgusted by me and my actions. My heart cracks and pain swells within me. It overflows as my tears mix with the rain streaming down my face.
He looms above me. A solid imposing figure of coiled rage. I feel his glacial gaze aimed right at me through the mask.
“I’m sorry, Ghost. Please. It just...happened. I got swept up in a moment with him.”
“It was more than one moment, Mallory,” he grits.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” I slowly rise from the ground and stand before him. I probably look disgusting, covered in mud, tears and shirtless. My skin is red from exposure to the cold lashings of the rain pelting me. My eyes have to be puffy from the emotions I’m trying to keep under control.
“Beg,” he says flatly.
“Excuse me?” My pussy drips into my already saturated leggings at his command.
“You want me to forgive you? Then beg.”