Page 83 of The Preachers' Promise
We’re all fixated on her. This is a new side to her, playful and confident, and I love it. She’s blossoming, and it makes my heart sing.
My cock is so hard, it’s painful. I free myself, taking myself in my hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Touch your pussy for us,” Cain says, his voice guttural. “Step your feet apart and put your hand between your thighs.”
She keeps one hand on her breast, tweaking her nipple, and slides the other one down, over her stomach, through the tiny patch of blonde curls, and between her legs. She parts her pussy lips with her fingers and circles her clit.
She opens her eyes and stares at Cain. “Like this?”
“Yes, fuck, like that.”
“Then let me see your dick.”
He obliges, opening his jeans and pulling out his cock. It’s always hard not to feel a little intimidated when comparing my size to Cain’s, but I’ve never had any complaints.
She turns her attention to me. “Do you like seeing me touch myself, Mal?”
“Hell, yes.”
She pushes two fingers inside herself, then slides them back out. They’re glistening wet, and she steps closer to me.
“Open your mouth.”
I part my lips, my mouth already watering, and she pushes her fingers across my tongue.
“Suck,” she commands.
Who is this little sexpot? I suck her arousal from her fingers, her muskiness coating my taste buds. I’m worried I’ll come just like this, pumping my fist on my erection while she finger fucks my mouth.
“We’re going to fuck you so hard,” Cain says.
She pulls her fingers from my mouth. “Wait, can I ask you for something?”
“Anything, baby,” I tell her. “We will literally do anything for you.”
She bites her lower lip, and glances away, suddenly coy. “Will you wear your masks?”
Roman gets to his feet. “Absolutely.”
Still moving carefully, because of his injuries, he leaves the room and navigates the spiral staircase down to the first floor. He’s barely gone a minute, and I distract myself by pulling Ophelia against me and kissing her mouth. My cock is pressed hard against her bare stomach, and I leave a trail of pre-cum across her skin. Cain wants in on the action, so he moves up behind her, rubbing himself against the small of her back, right above her ass. It feels right, having her between us, and I want more.
Roman returns with the masks and hands us ours. I settle my smooth white mask over my face. Roman is already wearing his skeletal one, and Cain pulls his hood down.
The atmosphere instantly changes.
What was playful suddenly becomes darker. Ophelia notices, too. Her lips part as she catches her breath, and her eyes widen with fear. Even though she knows who is behind the masks, wearing them turns us into something else. I feel it in the changeof our body language, too, in the way we all seem to grow taller, our muscles tensing and our eyes darkening.
Ophelia’s nipples tighten even more.
Yes, she loves us, her masked men.
And we love her.
She turns to run, but I catch her around the waist and toss her onto the bed.
“You’re ours now.”
She bounces slightly as she hits the mattress and lets out a gasp. I climb onto the bed, pushing her back, and Cain joins me. As he’d planned, Roman retakes his seat in the corner, content to watch our show.
