Page 20 of Noire Moon
“Goddamn. Let me get inside her tight pussy. You can wait for another turn and enjoy watching while I fuck her.” The sinful voice comes from above me.
For a moment I’m not sure if I just created my very own fantasy of where this all might go next. Except, these two menpull out of me, the one previously filling my mouth lets out a dark, raspy noise from somewhere deep inside his muscled chest. That sound right there tells me everything. It wasn’t my imagination; I haven’t been lost in some wicked daydream.
No, this is real and happening, and I’m flipped onto my back with ruthless precision at the same time as my legs get dragged toward the ceiling. Copper Mask tips me backward, rendering me unable to readjust my position. Within a flutter of my pulse point, the back of my head hits the couch cushions, and both of my ankles are held in one strong hand while pressed up against his shoulder. He keeps my legs tightly bound together, and the intensity of how it feels when he shoves inside me is enough to suck all the air out of my lungs.
My hands slap against the leather cushions as I writhe beneath him.
Even though he’s got me trapped and at his mercy in this position, I’m so wet and slick his cock glides in with ease.
“Christ.” He chokes out as his swollen length fills me. With everything made so much tighter seeing as how he’s locked my ankles in place, I can almost feel him hitting the back of my throat as he bottoms out inside my pussy. “Your cunt is gripping my cock like a fist. Dirty fucking flower.”
There’s nothing to do but lose myself in the rapidly building pleasure rolling through me once more. This is so good, too good, clamped tight around his length like this.
How am I ever supposed to enjoy ordinary sex again? Now that I know what this feels like?
I’m so screwed.
Maybe I’ll sell a kidney and try to get myself a ticket for next year.
But then, a torturous realization slams into me with the next deep thrust of his cock. I don’t want to come back and do this with justanyone. I want to find them again and relive this night.
All in the space of time since they locked me in this room, I’ve somehow clung onto these masked strangers with all the fervor of one of those girls in a mafia romance novel where she gets kidnapped and falls for her captor.
Stockholm syndrome has called and wants its pussy back.
The way I’m being pounded into relentlessly at this angle is all about his control. There’s no attempt to touch my clit or my begging nipples, even though both parts of me are crying out for attention. As I bite down on my abused lips, I brace both hands over my head, pressing them hard against the armrest at the opposite end of the long couch from where I was bent over just before. It’s all I can do to hold myself steady as the masked man commanding my pussy is fucking me like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
Each jerk of his hips forward makes my cum-covered breasts bounce, and he pulls all the way out to the tip before shoving back inside so hard I see stars. It’s slower than before, but feels more carnal.
He’s measuring each thrust and dragging out his own pleasure. Using me in the process.
Knowing that the man with the bloodied mask is watching this makes it all the more heightened, with every sensation put under the microscope of his disconcerting gaze.
Then I feel it. His fingers reach under the spot where the other man’s cock is inside me. Wrapping around his length, stroking him in time with each punch forward of his hips. The way he’s touching him makes Copper Mask groan deeply.
“You liked me watching while you fucked her, didn’t you?” Copper Mask asks in that velvety voice that makes my clit pulse with delight. I hear the cockiness in his voice that I feel right through to my fingers and toes with every shift of his length inside me. “Yeah, you always get off when I watch you. I bet youcan’t wait to get your big dick inside me while I’m screwing the little whore.”
Oh god. Oh shit.
That nearly sends my entire body into a screaming mess, so I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and try not to moan too loudly.
Which does nothing, really.
Ungodly, pathetic noises still manage to escape my throat.
What’s worse, is that they can both hear me.
All that earns me is a stifled orgasm when I clench around an agonizing emptiness as he takes his hand away and the other man pulls out.
A thousand choices of swear words linger on my tongue, and I want to hurl insults at them like cannonballs. Although self-preservation somewhat kicks in, and rather than give them a good reason to slit my throat, I swallow those bitter curses down.
My pussy clamps down, squeezing around nothing. My clit is swollen, and between my thighs I’m soaking wet.
I’m unceremoniously dragged into a sitting position, and the sensation of cool, firm leather pressing against my skin makes me jolt.
It takes my hazy, lust-crazed brain a moment to understand what I’m looking at in the matching leather armchair situated across the other side of the fireplace.
“I think he’s had enough ofjust watching.” A taunting voice is at my ear.
