Page 40 of Bernadette

“You may look,” he growled at the others, his stare never leaving her. “Look, but don’t touch her. Her surrender ismine.”

He knelt between her splayed legs, and she at last noticed the pair of figures behind him. They were staring at her, open and vulnerable. They saweverything.

Sharp spiciness filled the air so strongly, she could taste it on her tongue. Kalquorian excitement. They looked at her and were aroused. They found her desirable.

Her concentration remained centered on Doljen. He rubbed her inner thighs, his palms hot on her. He raked her up and down with a possessive stare, taking her in. If he found her lacking in any way, she couldn’t see it.

He riveted on her sex. His hands slid toward it, over the wetness that coated her inner thighs until his thumbs found the crease between leg and mound. He paused to trace those indentations, so very near to where she burned for contact. Then his thumbs swept inward, smoothing over her outer lips. Hewatched himself do it, reminding her she was on display. She shuddered, a whimper escaping.

“Look at her,” Doljen invited their audience. “So wet. So eager for her first time.”

“Fuck,” one of the Nobeks breathed. She wasn’t sure which. She only had eyes for Doljen.

He traced a fingertip lightly along her slit, and shocking pleasure tumbled through her. Her trembling was nonstop as he spread her juices.

Then he brushed her clit. She cried out at the jolt that lit her from within. He continued to softly nudge it, teasing her with bliss that sparkled through her lower parts. She moved beneath his attention, but only a little. She fought to remain still so she wouldn’t avoid an instant of his touch.

“So very ripe for pleasure.” Doljen’s voice verged on a groan. “Ancestors, you’re beautiful, Bernadette. If I were still with my clan, I’d insist on you belonging to us.”

With that, his mouth fastened on her womanhood, and all sense left her.

His tongue dove into her, licking and stabbing with a hunger his earlier touches hadn’t hinted at. He wasn’t brutal, but he was demanding, the wet sounds of his intimate kiss as loud as her gasps. His tongue was rougher than she’d imagined, deliciously harsh as he fed on her softness. She clenched the rumpled sheets in her fists, then his thick, black hair. His gaze had rolled up to her face as he mouthed her. He watched her succumb to rapture she’d only guessed existed.

She was aware of two other dark heads hovering. The Nobeks bent close to watch Doljen feast on her. Her sins, all of them, were revealed to their avid inspection, driving her deeper into wicked ecstasy. She writhed beneath their attentiveness, beneath Doljen’s carnal insistence.

He licked a path from her entrance to her clit before latching onto it. A finger pushed into her, moved in and out. A second finger. Fucking her while he sucked, his raspy tongue moving over her clit, bringing every cell to vigilant responsiveness.

Grasping need clawed at her. It was a vicious ache that grew by the second, becoming too much. It would kill her, but it continued to strengthen, spiking toward crescendo.

Then a brilliant point of light burst through her, igniting her, burning her in the fires of divine hell.

Doljen’s tongue stroked and stroked, feeding the convulsions that tore through her. The gazes of other men crawled over her, witnessing his conquest. She was aware of his fingers pulling free, of them settling against her tighter entrance before pushing in. The ache of intrusion mattered little in the wake of rapturous spasms. Indeed, the twinge of hurt added to her pleasure. Renewed climax shattered her as he shoved into taboo flesh, overcoming its resistance.

How long did he hold her in passion’s thrall? It could have been an eternity or mere seconds that she wailed under his fervent assault. Time ceased to exist in that brief infinity of elation, during which all she’d ever believed unraveled and dissolved.

At last, the convulsions eased. Doljen gave her clit a last, lingering kiss. He straightened and glanced at the other two men. They’d opened the crotches of their uniforms and held their glistening cocks, pumping them in their fists as they stared at her.

Bernadette quivered under the weight of their gazes, at the sight of their shafts. They had two each. She shook under the continued tremors of her sex. Their excitement brought her renewed yearning, but neither of them appealed to her. Only Doljen.

“You aren’t for them,” he confirmed, a warning in his tone for the pair. “They can watch, they can come, but you serve me.”

The purple of his eyes was barely discernible for his enlarged pupils. His countenance was calculating, verging on cruel as he opened the crotch of his pants and drew his own pair of cocks out. Thick, tapered to points at their ends, both large but the one on top more so. Shining with their own cinnamon-tinged lubrication. Erect. Ready for her.

He lowered his hips toward hers. He was so big. Despite a surge of fear, eager anticipation kept her from resisting as he positioned himself. His larger cock nestled against her womanhood, seeking her heat. It crept in slowly, inching in to sleeve itself in her. Then came enthralling pressure against her rear as the second found its target and burrowed.

Doljen gripped her shins, folding her legs and spreading them wide as he delved deeper. His dark stare riveted on where they joined, where he gradually sheathed his sexes. They grew in girth, and Bernadette whimpered as ache became hurt.

“Relax, my beauty. Accept what you asked for.” He rubbed her clit and brought her the magic of painful but heady excitement. “You were made for this. Made to be loved.”

Longing for more than another orgasm filled her. If only what he said were true.

“Tell me, Bernadette. Tell me you were made for this.”

She couldn’t. Love wasn’t intended for her. Hadn’t it been proven again and again? Proven until she’d run from any chance of falling for its lies, until she’d run from the hopeful woman she’d been once upon a time.

“Tell me.” He was filling her with that glorious hurt, that melding of man and woman she’d given up on having for herself. He was giving her the impossible, but she couldn’t accept it.

“Tell me you were made for this.”

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