Page 42 of Sacrificing Zoriah

Roman wraps his arms around my thighs and growls as he pulls me closer. Ben lets my hands go, and I rest them on his head as Ben forces me to look at him.

“You are doing good, Zoriah. We are so proud of you,” Ben says softly, stroking my cheek.

“I want to come so badly,” I say tearfully but through moans. “I’m scared. Fuck, that’s good.”

“Nothing to be scared of, sweetheart. We are right here,” Ben tells me. “It feels good, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” I whimper. “So good.”

“Relax then, pretty girl. Let him eat that pretty pussy,” he says, speaking softly. “How can we help?”

“I feel trapped laying down,” I groan.

I gasp loudly when Roman abruptly rolls and pulls me on top of him. I have my knees to either side of his head, and he has his arms banded tightly around my thighs to pull me down on his mouth.

I let my head fall back, and I instantly relax, no longer feeling trapped. Ben grabs me by the throat and kisses me. When hepulls back, he keeps his hand where it is but smiles at me. “Good girl, Zoriah. Look at you… Riding his face. Does that feel better?”

“Yes,” I pant. “God, I want to come.”

“Baby, God isn’t here right now,” Ben smiles wickedly and tightens his grip on my throat. “It’s time to come for us, Riah. You can do it.”

I start rocking my hips, and moans pour out of me when he sucks harder, and my movements cause a tugging sensation. I rock my hips harder until I am grinding my pussy on his face, desperately trying to find my release. “Our sinful little slut,” Ben says sweetly. “If not for God, come for all the demons that lurk, Riah. Show them who owns you.”

“Fuck, I want it. I want it so bad,” I mutter as I continue rocking my hips.

“Who owns you, Riah?” Ben asks.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” I say as I start to panic again.

“Who, Zoriah? Tell me.”

“Roman,” I moan. “You… Huxley.”

“Good girl. Who are you coming for, Riah? It’s not God, baby. Who is it?”

“My masters,” I moan. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Then come for your masters, Riah. Give it to us,” he coaxes, trying to get me to relax. I put my hand on top of his, and he instantly tightens his grip to the point that I can’t breathe. My eyes roll back, and I start to fall.

“We own you, Zoriah. Every fucking orgasm belongs to us. Not God. Us. Never cry out for God again. He isn’t the one tasting this sweet little cunt… Come for your masters, Riah. Give it up,” Ben says in a low and gritty tone.

Everything finally breaks free, and I come hard, bringing my arousal flooding out of me. Roman drinks from me and doesn’t stop until my body goes limp and Ben releases his grip. Laying on my back again, emotions slam down on me. I cover my face with my hands as I start to cry again, and they both come over to lie with me. Roman pulls my hands away and wipes my tears before softly kissing me. “I am so fucking proud of you, Zoriah. You hear me? You did so well.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “Both of you… for being so patient with me.”

“We will still let you come to us for every step of this. We go as fast or as slow as you want, okay?” Roman asks.

“Yeah,” I sniff.

“Let’s get cleaned up so we can go. We need to leave soon,” he says.

“Okay,” I smile and kiss him this time.

We get seated in first class, and I have a seat by the window. We are flying to Los Angeles for a huge meeting that will span over three days. We are going in a day early so that we don’t have to rush tomorrow. That will give us time to relax for a moment before being swamped with work.

I feel like I am floating on a cloud after having an orgasm. I suddenly see the world differently, and I think this is simply because I am learning how to navigate through my trauma. The thought of having an orgasm after being forced to have countless of them over a three-day period was terrifying. Now that I’m there, I want everything. I want to finally give myself to my men in their entirety. From day-to-day life to all things sexual. I want to give up control. I don’t know why, but it’s so freeing to not have to think about it. I trust them with everything, so I know they will keep going where I should be. I know there are rules, but that’s okay. Rules give me structure, and I need structure, without it, I feel lost.

I stare out of the window, thinking of what I will say. I am excited to tell him but even more excited to see what he will do. That means when we get back, I can take both of them.

---