Page 70 of MidKnight
What the sard are you doing?
Quinn’s voice broke my concentration.
I—I what?The ‘what’ came out as a moan in my head as Connor used his hand on my ass to piston me up and down against his thigh faster and faster.
You’re having sex without me.
It’s not sex!
Tell me someone hasn’t sprayed his dick sauce all over your fleshy red beef curtains!
Ew!
Quinn sent an image of a butcher’s shop, with meat dangling from hooks, thin flaps of meat swaying against one another. A butcher came into the shop and grabbed a side of beef. He tossed it on the table, grabbed a knife, spun around, then ran a knife sideways through the meat, filleting it. And then, in typical Quinn fashion, the butcher started playing with the meat. He grabbed each of the flaps and smacked them against each other, like they were lips. He ran his finger down each of their edges whispering,“You know how I like it? I like it raw.”The butcher rubbed the slabs of beef together. “Mmmm.”
I shuddered.
This only encouraged Connor who murmured, “Yes, Blossie, let it go,” as he tweaked my nipple again.
You’re ruining everything!I yelled at Quinn, when the nipple tweak didn’t do a damn thing for me.
Good! Because I should be there.
I’ll make it up to you.
Connor chose that moment to drop his leg. He shoved his fingers inside me instead, pumping roughly.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Like that.” His fingers were hard and thick, and my pussy began flutter around them.
Connor took his free hand and scratched down my chest before reaching around and squeezing my ass, hard. That pain, combined with the pleasure from the fingers inside me, sent me back up the hill, close to the peak.
The image of a large toad with a flat back punctured by row after row holes flew into my head. Then, in the most disgusting birthing display I’ve ever seen, baby toads popped out of the holes like pimples.Pop. Pop. Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop.
“Ew!” I screeched.
Connor stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
I breathed hard, scrubbing a hand over my face to erase that awful mental image. “Quinn’s being an ass. He’s sending me disgusting mental pictures so I can’t come.”
Connor’s face grew dark. I smiled as I felt Quinn recede from my brain. I was certain he was getting reamed mentally.
I chimed in.
You’re an evil cock block and not fair at all.
I wondered vaguely if his mind could handle both of us yelling at him at once. Part of me hoped not.
It was a minute or two before Quinn spoke to both of us.Fine. I’ll let her come. But only if she plays with me in her head.His group-thinking echoed and made my head hurt.
Connor closed his eyes and shook his head. “Five-year-old. Can’t share.”
You’d make the same demand if you could.
Quinn turned off his group thinking and instead just spoke to me.Will you, Dove?
I dunno. You denied me two orgasms just now. I’m not feeling very generous.
Bloss, I can’t be there with you. Do you know how lonely I am without you? I’m cold, in a crappy scratchy bedroll, all alone in the woods, worried about wolves. You’re there surrounded by love—he sent me a mental image of what I was certain had to be him as a young boy. The boy had huge grey eyes and long lashes, and sarding pinchable cheeks. The boy jutted his lower lip and let it tremble.
