Page 87 of Depraved
“Yeah, do you?” Jonah asks, pulling away from my breast and looking up at me, his eyes dilated, and the normal light blue turned a deeper, darker navy in the dull light of the attic. He looks wild right now.
“I need your mouth on my pussy. And Black … you need to prep my ass. If I’m going to take both my mates at once, I’m going to need to be nice and wet.”
Moans erupt from both the men, and Black tears off to one side of the room, swiping a bottle of lube from a drawer before stomping back over. Jonah hasn’t even had a chance to go down on me before Black sweeps me up off my feet. “Sex swing,” he orders.
He plops me into the seat of the swing, and I’m surprised by the way it folds around me, hugging my hips. He puts my hands up so that I’m grabbing onto two hanging handlebars. His face is dark as he warns me, “Move those hands, and you won’t get to come.”
Oh. Fuck. That order makes me want to drop the handles, stand up, and get in his face. But it also makes delicious anticipation swirl around in my thighs … because what’s he possibly going to do that would make me need an “oh-shit” handle?
I’m here to find out.
My fingers clamp down on the handlebars in a death grip as he props my feet into some nylon stirrups that have little ridges that tickle as they slide along my skin. He steps back to admire his handiwork, and Jonah moves to stand beside him.
With my feet up, my pussy is fully exposed to their gazes, and they both look their fill. It makes me feel vulnerable and wanton to see them both staring at me. Black reaches up to touch himself, but Jonah doesn’t…probably because I haven’t explicitly ordered him to touch himself.
“Do you like what you see, Jonah?” I breathe.
He nods.
“Show me. Touch your dick.”
I watch his hand rise to grip himself firmly and, as my eyes dart between both men, the intensity of my heat slithers over me once more. As their tips get wet with precum, a new wave of slick gushes from me just from the thought of all the things those dicks are going to do to me. For days … if this heat is anything like my first.
I laugh when I realize we’re going to miss the wedding I never wanted.
“What?” Black barks, the alpha in him immediately demanding to know my thoughts.
“No wedding bells for any of us tomorrow. You both will be too busy ringingmybell.”
“Puns aren’t hot, Elena.” Jonah narrows his eyes, scolding me with his expression.
“Why don’t you give her something better to do with her mouth then,” Black gives a dark grin as he reaches forward, adjusting me in the swing, so one strap underneath supports my back while another supports my ass and I’m able to lay flat on my back, staring up at the angled roof beams, floating at dick height.
Jonah strides around me and stands right near my head. “Tilt back and suck me.”
I don’t listen to him for a moment. I just take in the fact that I’m suspended, spread wide and dripping in midair between the two hottest men I’ve ever seen. Every inch of my skin smolders, and all I want is to get lost in the blaze.
“Grab her hair, and pull her head back where you need it,” Black orders as he steps between my spread thighs.
Jonah manhandles me, his fingers curling in gently but then pulling tight against my scalp so that my neck angles backward. He strokes my cheek until my mouth opens, then he shoves his dick in.
I don’t expect the motion and nearly gag, but Jonah isn’t as mean as Black and quickly pulls back, just pulsing the tip of his cock between my lips, using my mouth to tease himself.
Meanwhile, I feel one of Black’s thick fingers come up to trace my slit, swirling through my juices, slowly sliding across my clit.
God, are they going to spit-roast me while I’m on the swing? That’s one of their favorite things to do when I’m on a bed, so I wouldn’t be surprised. But Black doesn’t slide his dick down to tease me. He just uses his fingers to spread me wide and dip inside. My nerve endings shudder and do a Latin dance as his fingers start to scissor.
God. Yes. That.
There’s so much going on that I’m struggling to keep a handle on what’s happening as Jonah’s dick presses harder against my lips.
“Let me in, sweetheart,” Jonah whispers.
I try to relax my jaw, though it’s disorienting with my head upside down, and Jonah’s tip sails over my tongue, the salty taste of precum spurring my heat until my nipples pulse of their own accord. My body is so primed and ready for fucking that I could scream.
I want Black’s dick. Not his fingers. I want them both to pound me. I want to see how wild this swing can get, and feel how I’ll bounce between them.
But of course, Black has to be an asshole. It’s in his nature—he can’t help it. As soon as he feels my pussy start to pulse, he retracts his fingers from me and instead begins to stroke my clit, strumming it like a guitar. I start to sing for him, small moans escaping around Jonah’s cock as the pressure building up underneath my skin coalesces and concentrates into the tiny bundle of nerves he stimulates.
