Page 58 of Penny for Your Saints

“Sébastien,” Tin-tin almost gasps—his massive uncut cock straining against the pair of barely-there mesh briefs he’s wearing as he wobbles unsteadily to his feet. “We need you,” he reaches for me—Louise reduced to a writhing mass on the floor—her hands moving up over her flat stomach to cup her own breasts.

“We need knots,” she mewls from her place on the floor—her knees parting to display the gusset of her sodden panties.

My thinking brain tells me to get Caz to stall a bit while I get in contact with Frank, but my gamma instincts have already taken the wheel; my hands furiously tearing off my jacket, ripping my shirt over my head—unbuckling my belt, my cock hardening at the sight and the scent of them together. My sigma, my omega—they need my knot.

“Caz, you gonna gimme a hand here?” I manage to bite out as I notice Cazzy has frozen, his pale blue eyes wide as he takes in the erotic scene before him.

As if returning to himself—he begins frantically shrugging out of his winter parka, kicking off his sneakers and tube socks—his smoky sweet, theta perfume intensifying with each passing second.

Down to our skivvies, Caz and I crawl into the small, tented nest. I notice one of Caz’s grey hoodies, one of my tattered undershirts, and Frank’s leather jacket—the shoulder, all but totally destroyed from our escape from beach city.

Almost instantly, their desperation eases—Caz’s poppy, dragon’s blood, smoked vanilla scent like a balm for their frenzied nerves.

Louise is on me as soon as I stop crawling, sitting back on my heels in my boxer briefs—knot already half full at the base of my raging erection.

My knot may not be as big as Frank’s, but I do well for a gamma.

“Don’t fret, Loulu,” I croon, pulling her body against mine—the two of us kneeling on the soft deerskin—her breasts pressed against me, her lips parted, ready for a kiss. “Lay down, Chère,” I command sweetly, one of my hands cradling the back of her head—the other braced at the small of her back as she unfolds her knees from beneath herself.

“Sébastien,” Louise pants my name as I lay her down in the pillows and animal skins—her eyes hooded, her need calling to the very beat of my heart, the rush of my blood.

Vaguely, I can hear Quentin’s breathy encouragement to Caz,

“Yes Caz, darling—that feels good,” he urges Caz on, his buzzed blond head bobbing up and down slowly between Quentin’s thighs as he lays back beside Louise and I—Caz’s cheeks hollowed as he sucks Quentin’s cock down greedily.

The momentary distraction evaporates as one of Louise’s hands dips beneath the elastic band of my boxer briefs and closes around my knot.

I let out a low animal sound and reach for the slick-soaked lace of her panties. Louise lets out a mewling whimper—her grip on me closing in tighter as my hips hitch downward toward her on the ground beneath me.

“Seb, please,” she keens, as I dip my fingers inside her, first one then a second—her slick dripping from my gently seeking fingers down into my palm as she rolls her pelvis against me—desperate for more than I’m giving her.

“Patience,ma petite pièce brillante,” I taunt her, my lips against the shell of her ear as I collect more of her sweet honey with my fingers as they curl upward to that hidden place inside her that makes her gasp my name again—an edge not unlike surprise in the sound.

“Sébastien!”

Louise lets loose her hold on me and uses both her hands to brace herself against the floor, arching her back. I hold her like this, stroking her deep inside with my middle and ring fingers while she moans loudly.

“I’m going to help you, Loulu, just relax. Me and the boys are going to take care of you,” I rumble as her body bends like a bow—her legs gently shaking as I stroke slower and deeper.

Her teeth grit as if she’s barely holding on to the edge of reason and I withdraw my fingers to sounds of protest.

“Take those off, eh?” I nod to her sodden panties as I spread her sweet slick over my throbbing hardness.

She obliges—shimmying out of the panties and kicking them away as I push her knees apart with my own—my arms hooking beneath hers as I descend upon her.

I catch her red-brown eyes as they flicker past me to Quentin, one of his hands—pale with their long spidery fingers reaching across the narrow space between them to interweave with hers.

“Cazimer!” Quentin keens as Caz’s gold prince Albert disappears inside Tin-tin’s slick asshole.

Louise’s fingers clutch Quentin’s as my cock head presses against her slick tightness.

“Eyes on me, Chère,” I command, reaching down and turning her chin as I push inside her.

There’s a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes wide as I let my hips sink—my length disappearing inside her hot, slick pussy inch by inch.

Louise’s free hand rises from the floor, her fingers combing through my hair from the nape of my neck up to the crown of my head as she brings my face to hers.

“Fuck me, Sébastien,” she murmurs, her lips brushing over mine—the two of us refusing to break eye contact as I sink down slowly, until my knot pulses against her dripping pussy lips.“Fuck me hard,” she whines when I remain still and stone hard deep inside.

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