Page 19 of Noire Moon
Anything to relieve this tension threatening to burst within me.
My whimpering—pathetic noises even to my own ears—come thick and fast. I don’t intend on breaking theno-talkingrule, but I can’t hold back anymore. There is a swarm of bees inside my brain droning a relentless thunder ofplease, please, please, and I’m rocking back against him with my hips.
Right now, I am every inch the desperate, wanton whore they’ve painted me to be. The reckless idiot who consented to this, even if I had no clue how this night might unfold.
These men could use me however they like, and I’d probably leave them a handwrittenthank younote and a chocolate on their pillow.
It doesn’t make sense to my lust-addled brain how perfectly they know to play my body. How they seem to be enacting every one of my fantasies. Or maybe it’s simply the fact that I’ve always wanted this, but thought it would have to stay between me and my stash of vibrators in my top drawer.
Now, I’m living out those dreams in vivid, technicolor, writhing pleasure.
Chapter 7
My captor, the one wearing a blood-splattered skull mask, who is very much still fully clothed, thrusts inside me. After the way they’ve both used my throat in quick succession and tormented me, I’m slippery and drenched, allowing him to shove his way inside with sharp pulses of his hips. Even though my body is bent over the armrest of this expensive leather couch, the force of each pump shunts me forward.
I’m helpless beneath him as he begins to pick up his pace. My pussy is so obscenely wet after sucking their cocks and being wound up for so long that all I can hear over the crackling of the fire is the sound of my slickness.
If I wasn’t already so delirious with pleasure and the overwhelming situation I’ve found myself in, I might be embarrassed. Instead, I’m busy making whimpering noises and biting my lip so hard I’ll no doubt taste blood any second.
My body is like a cat in heat, arching and mewling beneath the brutal jolts of his hips against my ass. The ridged edges of his piercings are unfamiliar, yet they’re feeling so much better than I could ever have imagined.
He fills and stretches me, each slide in and out brings the dragging sensation into heightened focus. God, this man would feel insanely good even without metal bars through his cock.
This is a man who clearly knows what he’s doing.
If I thought his impression on my body was all-consuming, that’s when I couldn’t be more wrong. The cushion in front of me dips under a heavy weight, and Copper Mask is right there, kneeling in front of me, only now he’s shirtless. There’s a sinful V of muscle directing my mouth exactly where to go, and this time, he doesn’t need to say anything.
I angle my neck and stick out my tongue. His dutiful hole to enjoy.
He fists his cock, making a self-satisfied noise. As he adjusts his position his head tilts to one side, looking down at me with that pale skull face adorning his features. Jesus Christ, from the look of his body, I can only imagine what he might look like without the mask to hide behind.
While his body is pure sin to look at, I also notice scars covering his torso. Pale slivers that look like wounds from a blade. Maybe even bullets, who knows. He’s got secrets—or maybe those are the proud marks of a victor.
There’s enough scattered over his flesh that this looks like it might be a permanent hazard of his…lifestyle.
Although there’s no time for me to start thinking about secret societies or what it is that these masked men actually do when they’re not lurking in the shadows. There’s a magnificent dick in my mouth, and I’m getting railed from behind.
My mind is consumed with the heat and the sheer dominance of them. Like they have an unspoken language passing between them while one fucks my throat and the other grips my hips tight and thrusts into me over and over.
This is about them seeking their pleasure and using me, and my body burns up from the inside out. Pure, unadulterated,depraved pleasure is thundering through my veins instead of blood. I’m teetering, tip-toeing on the edge of my orgasm that has been lingering just out of reach.
With each slap of his hips against my ass, my pussy begins to pulse and squeeze around his big cock, and I know he’s not quite as unaffected as he’d like me to believe because his strong fingers sink tighter. Bruising my hips beneath the bunched material of my skirt.
I can’t control it any longer. Moaning loudly now around the length of Copper Mask’s cock, working my tongue against the underside of him, I’m sloppy and desperate, intently focused on breathing through my nose. He’s not going any easier on me; in fact, the sight of the other man fucking me must be driving him wild because he’s swearing and groaning louder now.
The ridges of those piercings hit a magic spot inside, repeatedly.
Holy shit.
Holy, shit.
I’m coming.
My orgasm bursts through me like a runaway train.
Spit runs out of the corners of my mouth, tears fill my eyes, and my pussy clenches in wave after wave around the cock pounding me mercilessly. All that metal rubs so goddamn perfectly against my channel, making my eyes roll back in my head.
Before I can come back down properly into my body, I feel his pace falter. A wickedly dark noise fills the quiet in the room over the sounds of filthy fucking.
