Page 22 of Wounded Wing

Creaking from a chair draws me to open my eyes, convincing me to watch as Atticus unbuttons his pants, tugging the zipper down with ease. “Do you enjoy having his hands on you?” His eyes lock with mine, a knowing glint in them.

He has taken my latest rebellion, the newest addition to my nightmares, and twisted it into something he knows I’ll cave into. All without saying a word.

My voice shakes, hating that I have to admit that I crave his brand of torture. “Y-yes. I l-like his hands on me.” Ren’s hot breath ghosts along the back of my neck as he groans, fingers twitching as he keeps my slit spread for Atticus.

“I wonder how good his cock will look in you,” Atticus mocks, using my words with Pierre against me. “Will you look good in my wife, Kudo?” His head tilts back in the chair as his hand strokes his hard length. “Let’s find out.”

Chapter fifteen

A whimper pulls frommy throat at the loss of his teasing fingers. He slides his hand over the inner crease of my thigh, traveling towards my waist, squeezing it gently before undoing his navy-blue pants. Lifting his hips, he tugs them down, shifting the fabric against my naked skin.

“Stand up for me, flower,” he murmurs, easing my legs back together. The wetness between them rubs against my inner thighs. Following his request, I stand on shaky legs to see Atticus smirking atme, flicking the silver hoop decorating the glistening tip of his pink cock.

“Bend her over the table,” Atticus grunts, pinching the piercing between his fingers. “Keep your eyes on me,cher. I want to see those pretty eyes while you come for another man.”

Ren’s warm palm caresses my shoulder, his finger teasing the strap of my athletic bra. My arms brace in front of me as he pushes me forward, lining himself against my slit. I hold Atticus’ gaze, my pulse thundering in my ears. The room fades as Ren eases his hips forward and nudges his bare length in, stretching me wider than I’ve experienced.

Anxiety prickles my skin as he prods the rigid tissue. His fingers dig into my shoulder, pulling a hiss from between my teeth at the bite of pain that makes my pussy flutter.

“Ah–fuck,” he pants, rolling his hips.

A breathy moan slips past my lips as his hand slides from my shoulder. He brushes down my side to the front of my thigh, sending a throb through my clit. Heat builds low in my stomach, the need for pleasure overriding the humiliation of Atticus beating me at my own game. His fingers brush over my mound finding my pulsing nub.

Fisting my hands against the cool table, I hold Atticus’ gaze as he thumbs the pre-cum gathered around his swollen tip, “F-faster…” I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat. “F-uck me fa-faster, Ren.”

His name rolls off my tongue easily, a soft plea in place of the sharp cry I’ve grown numb to. His movements cease, pulling meaway from the edge I desperately crave to jump over. A weak whine crawls from my throat, begging him not to stop.

“Beg for it,” he breathes, “Beg for me in front of your husband.” His voice deepens at the mention of Atticus, sending a pulse of lust through my core.

My lips part in an ‘o’, his words taking me by surprise. “P-p-please?” I falter, the words dying on my tongue as his fingers pinch my hooded nub.

His cock jerks against my stretched walls, triggering another flutter from the muscle. “You can do better than that, flower,” he grunts, gently rocking into my body, the sound of my wetness echoing between us.

“Oh God–p-please,” I stammer as my eyes flutter, fighting to stay on Atticus as he squeezes his cock in a punishing grip, turning it into an angry shade of red. His mouth drops open with a pained groan that floods my pussy.

“Not God, baby girl,” Ren growls, “Say. My. Name.” He drives his throbbing cock into my soaking core with each word.

My arousal drips down the inside of my thighs, making them slide together with each thrust.

“Ren!” I gasp, needing him to give into my plea.

“Good fucking girl,” he groans, tugging on my clit. “Look at your husband, stroking his cock for us.” His hips thrust at the brutal speed I begged for, bringing me back to the edge.

Licking his lips, Atticus pumps his veiny length in his fist, pre-cum coating his hand and acting as lube.

Ren’s fingers begin to roll the sensitive nerves between his fingers, soothing the ache from being pulled. The heat in my stomach builds swiftly, ready to bubble over. My legs shake under me, unwilling to hold me through the brutal pace of pleasure.

“Fuuck…” Atticus hisses, fisting his slippery cock in sync with Ren’s thrusts. His eyes glaze over, high from his own lust.

“Your pretty cunt takes me so well,” Ren pants. “So hot–so fucking wet.”

A gush of my arousal floods between us, dripping down into the leggings pooled around my calves. My breaths puff out in short bursts, making me lightheaded. “I’m g-gonna–” I rasp, my words cut off by Ren’s fingers moving faster.

“Come for me, flower,” he demands huskily as his skin slaps hard against mine, chasing his own release.

Locking eyes with Atticus, I cry out Ren’s name hoarsely as my orgasm crashes over me. Raising his hips, Atticus pounds into his fist until cum spills over his fingers. His chest rises rapidly, recovering from the intensity of his pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby girl,” Ren groans, “Let him see how good I make you feel.” His filthy words send my eyes rolling, breaking the connection with Atticus’ demand to keep my eyes on him.

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