Page 27 of The Devils of Saint City

If I’m ever suicidal, l’ll give it a shot. “How mad do you think he’d be if he came out here and you were inside me?”

“At this point, I don’t give a fuck,” he admits, hips canting up into me. “I think he’d be more jealous than mad. He hasn’t gotten off in days, but whose fault is that?”

“Not even with you?” It’s harder than I anticipated to climb off of him and get my shorts off, but he helps me when I start to trip. “Why haven’t you two...?”

“I’ve jacked off, but he hasn’t been talking to me either much, it wasn’t just you. I usually keep my distance when he’s in a mood. You’ve seen that look in his eyes.”

And the destruction that follows, yes.

I also don’t want to talk about him anymore.

Straddling Manson, I catch him in an uncoordinated, messy kiss as I try to reach below me to pull his cock out.

“So hot in handcuffs, pet.” He reaches down to help me. “Jack me off a little bit, I want to watch it with the cuffs on.”

Right, because you’re psychotic too. Got it.

It brings me back to earth a little as I sit back toward his kneecaps and spit down on his cock. My wrists feel heavy and encumbered as I stroke him, but the expression that takes over his face is pure bliss and borderline adoration. “Fuck yeah. Want to know another secret?” he breathes. “Ask for anything you need in moments like these. I sure as fuck couldn’t deny you.“

As if that wasn’t obvious. The only problem is, orgasm highs fade. Reason comes back. And I’ll still have to pay the price for whatever I request. “Yeah? What if all I want right now... is for you to come for me just like this? Cover my cuffs with it, baby.”

“Hell yeah.” His cock twitches eagerly. “Let me lick your pussy after.”

For once, my movements falter not because I want to stop, but because I’m fucking shocked. It’s the first time either of them have offered to do anything simply to make me feel good. “What?”

“Don’t stop,” he mumbles, thrusting up into my hands. “Squeeze a little tighter.”

“Right. S-Sorry.” Glancing down, I focus only on how his thick cock feels between my hands — the heat, the veins, the precum coating his tip. I spit on it again, gripping tighter as I twist my hands in opposite directions.

“That’s perfect. Looks so damn good, doesn’t it? Pretty little captive stroking her captor’s cock.”

The fact that my clit throbs makes me want to die. I can tell myself I’m still in control here all I want, but I’m not. And I’ll never be anything to them other than a pet they managed to trap.

“Feels good too,” I lie. “You’re so big, Manson. I still can’t believe you both fit inside my pussy. Did that feel good?”

“Oh my god,” he groans. “Felt out of this world, girl. You want that when you’re awake?”

I don’t answer him. I don’t want to agree to something he might make me live up to, and saying no will only make him mad. Instead, I shimmy forward enough to slap the head of his cock off my clit then stroke him faster. “Tell me about it. How did it feel when Asher came first?”

“You’re gonna make me blow talking like this. Fuck, I don’t even know how to explain it. You were clenching around us so tight, and then his cum oozed down my balls. Jesus. Fuck.”

“And you fucked it deeper inside me, didn’t you? Making sure we didn’t waste a drop. Give me more, Manson. Right now. Cover your pretty little captive’s cuffs.”

His cock begins to pulse in my hands just before he gives me what I asked. It’s so much, spurting up onto my shirt and covering my hands before he breathes again, and when he does the groan he releases makes my legs clench. “Fuck yeah.”

His hips are rolling for more as I work him through it, and with how hard his fingers are digging into my legs, I know he’s leaving marks behind.

Just add them to the collection.

I give him a moment to come down before I get up and realize with a jolt that I won’t be able to change my shirt until they let me. Pants are one thing, but I can’t get a shirt over these cuffs. “Um...”

Manson grins up at me a split second before he’s flipping our positions and kneeling in front of me, eyes locked on my pussy. “I meant what I said.”

I don’t know whether or not to be happy about this, especially because I see Asher’s shadow stretching across the ground from the hallway. He’d stop Manson if he didn’t want this, right? So he’s okay with it?

“Taste me on your fingers.”

He doesn’t wait around to watch it, his tongue is swiping up the evidence of my arousal before I can take my next breath, so I don’t. I tip my head back to try to get a look at the voyeur behind us.

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