Page 62 of All Saints Day
His scent sends the slick flowing down my thighs, and my clitoris beats in time with my heartbeat; hard and fast.
For a dizzying second, I nearly start freeing him from his bonds—begging him for his knot—but I shake it off and press on.
"Why didn't you try to free me during all that time at the Windmill!?" I scream, giving his balls a stinging swat.
"Aygh! Because I'm a fucking coward!" he roars, sweat pouring from his brow now.
Just as I'm about to have Quentin start the vibrator again, Frank's eyes lock with mine and he begins to beg.
"Please—anything, I'll tell you anything you want—please just let me cum."
Chapter 22
Frank
"Please—anything, I'll tell you anything you want—please just let me cum."
I’m ashamed of the words, but I’m so desperate, I’ll give her anything—I’ll give any of them anything.
The fire inside me threatens to burn me away from my very core and leave nothing but ashes. Cumming is only the first step to quenching the burning desire—but if I don’t take that first step; I will become only memories and smoke.
“The Windmill? You haven’t told them anything about the Penny’s research? Nothing at all?” Quentin steps in, his hard cock in hand. All I can think is that I want to gobble it down while I fuck Louise knot deep from behind.
“Nothing—I’ve told them nothing about the research, or Louise, or the fated mates,” I moan, my knot throbbing—so full it feels like it’s going to explode if I don’t get it inside one of them soon.
“And how are you already immune to the Zeitnot?” Quentin gives the side of my face a gentle smack with his cock before pushing it so far down my throat, it makes me gag. I moan at the sensation of his cock hitting the back of my throat. My ass clenches around the still vibrator in desperation for more stimulation as he pulls his cock from my mouth—silvery ropes of drool stretching between us until they drop to the floor.
“I got into the drugs my old man was helpingto push for the mob—” I manage to bite out through my choking coughs. “But then I got sick and—” I bite my tongue, not wanting to unearth the rest of this secret, but Louise’s grip is there like iron; coaxing the cum from me, until she abruptly stops; another destroyed orgasm reluctantly dripping from the tip of my cock onto the floor.
“You can get what you need if you just cooperate, Frank,” she snaps as Q slowly orbits behind her, lifting her skirt so that I can see Louise's dripping pussy—pink and perfect.
The sight of Quentin trawling his fingers up her pink pussy lips before dipping them into his mouth and sucking them clean makes me rattle the legs of the milking chair as I leap against my bonds to get to them.
“It’s why they killed my old man—he started sniffing around the Windmill, ended up finding the source of the virus instead—they helped him.” The words pour out of me—leaving Louise and Quentin momentarily frozen. “You have to believe me—I didn’t know it was them, Lou—I had no idea what was going on. I was a fuckin stupid horny teenager who wanted to impress a girl with some drugs. It wasn’t until after we saw the recordings that I suspected; after I got back to the Windmill with you and I confronted Susan that I knew,” I sob, the fever making everything too bright, almost blurry.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can hear Sébastien’s voice.
“He can’t take much more of this—he’ll die if you push him much further.”
I follow the sound to the blurry outline of him standing just behind Quentin; Q and Louise the only people in the room in sharp focus; the heat sickness sharpening my alpha instincts to a needle point.
Louise breaks free of Quentin’s hold and grabs the spreader bar beside each of my wrists, planting her feet on either side of myspread knees—walking herself toward me—every cell in my body screaming out for her.
“Who is the White Knight?” she asks—a cold fire in her eyes as her slick drips from her twitching pussy down onto my cock—bringing another round of gleaming precum to bead like dew on my cockhead.
“I don’t know—I swear it, Louise, I’ll tell you anything you want—but I don’t know who it is,” I sob.
The same part of my brain that sleepily processed Sébastien’s warning observed that I had just talked about the death of my father and my corruption by the Windmill, without my control slipping and falling to Rook.
Irony fell away at terminal velocity as heat sickness threatened to crush me out of existence.
“Louise,” Sébastien’s voice rose again from behind in a warning.
I look up at Louise through my delirium and smile.
“I don’t know who the White Knight is,” I sniffle, my grin spreading ear to ear as the fever teeters on the edge of combustion. “You know, if this is the way I have to go, Lucifer—heat sickness at the hands of my fated mate isn’t the worst way.”
At that, something flashes in her cinnamon eyes and she drops the full force of her weight down on me—my cock making a loud wet noise as her slick cunt sheaths me up to the knot—my own voice strange in my ears as I let out a gravelly roar, my knot stretching Louise’s tight slickness before I’m slurped balls deep inside her. Her walls squeeze my knot until my vision explodes in an oil spill of color and dazzling light and Louise’s shriek of ecstasy—all combining like a quenching balm—the fires of my heat sickness not yet extinguished, but instantly banked to the merest glowing embers as my entire body threatens to rattle apart as I fill her with my alpha seed.
