Page 17 of Snowed in with the Brutes
“Dessert,” Flinn says.“A crisp red apple covered in your cum, sweet Cora.”
I shake my head.This is insane.They’re insane.
“Lower yourself onto the apple, sweetheart, and rub your clit against it until it’s shining with your cum, until it’s dripping with your juices.”
I shake my head again, ready to beg for mercy, but Sinclair’s words come with a warning he doesn’t need to explain.I will be splintered apart if they put the butt plug he’s holding into my bottom hole.I can’t.
Tears blur my vision.I close my eyes and lift myself up until I’m sitting on my knees.The apple is ice cold, and mortified, I hungrily seek the coolness against my clit and press against it.
“That’s it, sweetheart, make yourself come,” Flinn says softly into my ear.He wraps one arm around my waist, peeking over my shoulder so he can see the apple between my legs.Using his other hand, he brushes my exposed, engorged nipple with his thumb and drives me to insanity.
I’m slipping away into the chasm of deviance.Tears slip down my face.I turn my gaze to Kian.He’s seeing everything.
I move against the apple, swaying, shifting, and dropping forward to secure my grip on it.Flinn doesn’t let me go, but he moves with me.The fruit is no longer cold.The scent of it, mixed with my own arousal, fills the air.
Shame engulfs me as my clit slips and slides against the smooth skin.
Sinclair runs his tongue over his lips, as if he’s salivating for me, and it drives me over the edge.Kian hasn’t taken his eyes off my face.
“Ah, you’re so close,” Flinn whispers in my ear, sinking his teeth into my lobe as I fuck the apple.I shouldn’t be this wet.The degradation of it alone should make me as dry as a desert.
“I can almost feel your womb starting to contract,” Flinn says, his hand low on my stomach, pressing into me.
I shudder; chaotic thoughts fly through my head.I don’t want to humiliate myself like this.
“Come for us, Cora,” Sinclair says, and Flinn pinches my nipple.
An orgasm hurtles through me; my clit pulses, the plug in my butt seems to expand inside me, and then my entire body clenches as I soak the apple with my essence.
Oh god, help me.How did I let myself do something so base in front of them?Flinn holds me the whole time until the last orgasmic shudder leaves my body.
But it’s not over.Still draped in mortification and held in Flinn’s arms, he takes the fruit from between my legs, glistening with my juices, and bites into it.
He hands it over to Sinclair, who licks a few drops off the skin before he bites into it.
“No apple can taste sweeter,” he murmurs.
I just want to hide for the rest of my life.
