Page 47 of The Preachers' Promise
Cain lifts her again and places her on the dark gray sheets in the center of the bed, with her head at the base and her feet resting on the pillow. She’s on her back, naked, all pale skin and ash blonde hair. She really does look angelic displayed against the dark silk.
I want to worship her and claim every single inch of her. The three of us don’t move, though, all of us seemingly happy enjoying the view.
She squirms a little on the bed. “Umm… guys,” she moans.
“Touch yourself,” Mal says, his voice harsh. “Show us, baby, how you do that.”
Her face tightens. “It makeshimspeak when I do that.”
I don’t have to ask who she means. I know it’s that fucking prophet she’s referring to.
“He isn’t here anymore,” I say sternly. “We made him go away, Ophelia, and now you’re back with us, and he’s gone. There’s no place for him here. Do you understand? Here, in this room, you are ours and, if you do as we say, he’ll stay away. Sotouch yourself, baby, and you’ll see. Spread those legs and show us how you play with your pussy when you’re alone.”
She swallows hard but spreads her legs as I walk around the bed, watching. Her inner lips are glistening and an enticing shade of pink. They stand out against her pale skin, snagging my attention and making my mouth water.
Slowly, with nervous glances between us, she trails her delicate fingers down her stomach and over her mound to stroke her clit.
“Oh,” she breathes.
Just that one word, but it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. Gently, she rubs her fingers over her clit, sometimes moving them either side of it, trapping it between them as she presses carefully and then rubbing over it again, around, over, and back to trapping it.
I’m fucking fascinated. Is this how she touches herself all alone in her bed at night? It’s erotic as hell, all slow, sensual, and gentle.
I’m standing perfectly still now at the foot of the bed, watching her, transfixed, as is Cain, but Mal is stalking around the bed, like a big cat on the prowl. He startles me when he climbs onto the bed and clambers over her, still fully dressed. He leans down, face close to her fingers and pussy, and breathes in deeply.
“I can smell you,” he says. “You are so needy, aren’t you, Little Ghost?”
“Yes.” It’s almost a sob.
“Can I play?”
She nods, moving her fingers away and parting her legs more. I expect Mal to bend his head and lick her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he carefully parts her folds with his fingers and uses his other hand to flick his middle finger over her clit, back and forthin a side-to-side motion. It’s fast, but I can tell he’s being gentle and keeping his touch light.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Cain asks.
She nods.
“No, Angel. Use your words. Tell us,” Cain demands.
“Yes, it feels good.”
“What feels good?”
She licks her lips nervously. “My, um, my pussy.”
Her cheeks pinken, bringing some color to her lovely face.
“Do you need some fingers inside you?” Mal asks.
Her reply is a gasp. “Oh, God, yes.”
“Get on all fours, baby, ass to the edge of the bed and let Roman take a turn.”
He shuffles back to give her space and kneels up as she repositions herself. Now, her pussy and ass are right in front of my face, her pussy swollen between her thighs, and gods help me, but I can’t hold off. I step forward, kneel, and lick right over her clit.
She moans so loud it almost makes me come.
“That’s it,” Cain orders. “Let us hear how good he’s making you feel.”
