Page 19 of Carnival Mayhem

I heat at his words, but I can’t deny the evidence of my desire. I’m soaked, and the head of Colt’s cock slides an inch inside.

“Fuck, she’s tight.” Colt’s voice is strained as he pushes forward, filling me slowly. “So fucking tight and hot.”

His girth stretches me, and I can’t suppress a moan as he bottoms out. He stays still for a moment, letting me adjust to his size. His hands rest on my hips, his thumbs stroking my sensitive skin.

“Move, Colt,” Nash commands, his voice rough with need. “Fuck her hard.”

Colt’s eyes darken, and he pulls out almost entirely before thrusting back into me hard. My eyes widen at the new depthof sensation. I bite my lip, savoring the slight sting of pain, and throw my head back, reveling in the feeling of being wanted and possessed.

“You like that, don’t you? You like it rough.” Colt’s words are a statement, not a question.

I whimper in response, unsure if I can form coherent words. My body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. I want more, need more.

His hands grip my hips tightly making the bruises from Tommy throb as he pulls me against him. The piercing in his cock rubs against sensitive spots inside me, sending sparks of pleasure through my flesh.

“Fucking hell. Your pussy’s milking my cock.” His voice is harsh, full of gravel as he pumps into me. “Been a while since I had a tight little slut like you.”

His words shouldn’t turn me on, but they do. I arch my back, breasts bouncing as I meet his thrusts. I want him to keep going, to never stop. meeting his thrusts. I want him to keep going, to never stop.

“Tell me to stop, Flora.” His voice is demanding, his eyes daring me to deny him.

I don’t want him to stop, ever. But I can’t deny the little girl inside me who needs to play this game and pretend that she has some control, even if it’s just an illusion.

“Please, stop,” I whisper, my eyes darting to Nash, pleading with him to understand. “It hurts. You’re too big.”

I don’t need to say the safe word. I just need them to know that it’s an act, that I’m playing a role, inviting them to take what they want.

Colt’s eyes flash with a dangerous light, and his thrusts become more urgent, more forceful. I cry out, my body responding to his roughness, my channel dripping around him.

“That’s it, fight me.” Colt’s voice is harsh, his jaw clenched with the effort of his restraint. “But you can’t escape me… escapeus.”

His words strike a chord deep within me. I don’t want to escape. I never want this moment to end. I want to be theirs, to surrender completely.

My eyes dart to Nash’s and I see the extent of my desire reflected back at me in his dark brown depths.

Colt’s pace never falters, his eyes fixed on mine. “You want this. Don’t try to deny it.”

I can’t, not anymore. My eyes lock with Colt’s, and I give him a small nod, granting him silent permission to take what he needs from me.

Colt’s hand tightens on my hip, his thumb finding the spot that weakens my knees. With each thrust, his piercing rubs against that bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through me.

“Fuck, Flora, you feel so damn good.” Colt’s voice is strained, his control slipping. “I’m not gonna last. Gonna coat your walls with my cum.”

His words send me over the edge. My orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, and I cry out, my body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure washes over me.

Colt lets out a harsh groan as he follows me, his release pulsing inside me. I cling to him, not wanting this moment to end. I feel branded by their possession, marked as theirs.

Nash’s eyes burn with desire, his gaze flicking between Colt and me. His hand moves to his own cock, stroking himself as he takes in the sight before him.

“Your turn, Nash,” Colt grunts, his voice still rough. “Take what you want from her.”

Nash’s eyes glitter with a combination of hunger and something akin to relief. He closes the distance between us, his hand gentling as he cups my cheek.

“Mine now,” he whispers, his eyes searching mine. “All mine.”

I feel exposed and vulnerable at the intensity of Nash’s gaze, like he’s seeing through to my very core. I feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, sparking something within me.

“Please...” I whisper, looking up at him through my lashes. I’m not sure what I’m asking for. Forgiveness, maybe? Or perhaps I’m begging for something more.

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