Page 8 of Room 13: Bred By the Bears

It felt softer than a whisper. My lungs struggled to take in air, my head felt clouded with white noise that turned sensible phrases into nonsensical buzzing. My body felt heated and cold twisting tighter with each caress, regardless if it was on my shoulder or against my clit.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Obsidian hissed as he pressed into me.

I felt the walls of my pussy clamping against the intrusion, greedily pulling him deeper into me, as if guiding his cock to the exact spot that would make me shiver and scream. He folded his body over me, his long arms encircling my rib cage imprisoning my breasts as they dangled below me with each firm thrust of his hips against my haunches.

The pair of us were animalistic in our pursuit of pleasure. Stripped to our most basic biological design. To reproduce.

“Your cunt opened for me so beautifully, sweet one. Like it knows what I’m asking of it. It’s sucking at me, begging for my seed to be buried in you.”

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck me harder, and instead of words coming out, the slickened head of Armel’s cock slipped in, fucking against my soft palate. Three firm strokes and he pulled out only to be replaced by Ryker’s mushroomed top. His thrusts were short, firm strokes, just past the mushroomed ridge of him, in and out, over and again like a wild jackrabbit. The desperate, keening noises he made as he thrust up into my mouth, hitting my ears like acid rain and spreading heat through my skin and down into the core that was alight with sensation from Obsidian’s probing rod.

“Do. Not. Come,” Ryker ground out as Armel took hold of my head while he pressed his cock deep into my throat with a bellow of satisfaction. I swallowed against the shock of the intrusion, acting purely on instinct, and not thinking about the three men and how close they were to the edge themselves. Armel erupted against my tongue, flooding my mouth with his cum faster than I could swallow it. Long rivulets of it combining with the salvia dripping between my lips and onto his groin.

“He usually has better staying power, sweet one. It must be because you’re too fucking enticing,” Obsidian grit out as he circled his cock against my inner walls, the rumble in his chest cutting out the rest of his sentence.

“Feel free to come any time now, Obi,” Ryker groaned, as he fisted his nearly purple cockhead. “It’s not like there someone else trying to hold on to their last shred of sanity over here.”

It would be comical if not for the fact that Obsidian’s cock held me captive, lost in the rapture of sensation. Rather than answer Ryker, Obsidian pinched my nipples and rasped in my ear.

“Are you gonna come for me?”

I could only mewl a response. My orgasm had been building for some time. Like a poorly constructed, makeshift shelter, it was concrete slapped between sinking pillars that threatened to collapse under the weight of too much pleasure. I felt it bend and lengthen as if a piece of taffy, yet I hadn’t yet found that last thread of unspooling desire to latch on to, in order to fling myself over the summit.

“Tell me,” he cajoled, cupping my breasts in his palms, rolling my nipples between his fingers. “Say, yes, Alpha.”

His long arms snaked around me, one holding me at my rib cage, my breasts pressed against his forearm, the other snaked down between my legs and pinched my clit in tandem with his teeth scoring into my shoulder. His directive, combined with his total control of my body seized every synapse I possessed into one spitting bolt of electricity. My orgasm ripped through me with such force, I could probably have powered Bourbon Street solely on the energy my cells produced.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He humped into me with brusque, focused strokes. “Though, next time, we’ll need to work on your obedience.”

He spoke more words as he fucked mercilessly into me. I was lost in the swirling vortex of my pleasure and his approaching finale. The friction, the briny taste of cum on my tongue, the smell of sex that hung damp and virulent in the air, the increasingslap slapof his skin against mine. With one last tortured groan Obsidian erupted into my womb bathing my insides with his hot seed.

No sooner had he softened and collapsed to the side of me, a string of praise falling from his lips, did Ryker have me flipped over onto my back, like a paralyzed turtle made immobile. I hadn’t even arrived back down to earth yet, and Ryker’s fingers were in me.

“Look at what a mess we’ve made.” His voice dripped with saccharine distress. “Armel got cum in your hair and all down your chin and breasts, and now Obsidian shot so much seed into you, your poor body couldn’t hold it all. Here, I’ll help.”

The roughened pads of Ryker’s fingertips slid through my dripping pussy, collecting what I assumed was Obsidian’s cum, and pushed it back in. For long moments he held his fingers there, staring at me as he did. Those deep wood eyes of his darkened to near black. The weight of his arousal fell on me like the heaviest blanket on the coldest night.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a much bigger plug to keep in all that cum.”

He looked down at his fisted cock, running his hand up and down his shaft a few times, watching me watch him. His eyebrow rose in challenge, daring me to not show him how turned on he’d made me. I reached down between my legs, joining his finger, collecting whatever moisture I could feel and pressing it inside me, in tandem.

“That Chantilly is getting a robin’s egg blue box from me in the morning.” He groaned, twining our fingers together, using the slick between the pads of our fingers as lubricant to rub the against one another before releasing me.

“I don’t feel quite full enough.”

I smiled, spreading my legs wider.

“You’re right. I’m pretty sure you’re only a third full in fact. Plenty more to put in that tank. Too bad Armel blew his load prematurely. Guess he’ll have to wait and pray there’s a next time.”

As if the weight of that realization fell onto his shoulders, Ryker fell forward, catching himself just before his nose touched mine.

“Will there be a next time?” He ran his nose down the length of mine before caressing my lips with his own.

I couldn’t answer him. Not now. I was drunk on pheromones, my head spinning from the high. I’d probably agree to just about anything at that point. So rather than commit myself to something I may regret later, I simply kissed him back, feeding him my ecstasy in the form of my tongue.

“We’re going to make such a beautiful baby together.” He pushed my hair off my forehead, pressing his lips to my forehead as he entered me.

It was too beautiful. The perfect dessert after a buffet of sin. The sincerity in his voice almost made me believe the lie. He gave me the freedom to do so. To fall backwards into the fantasy with him. Like it was just the two of us, in our bed on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Not having a destination, not needing to come with desperation. Enjoying the climb and the hopeful outcome.

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