I choke on a gasp as I realize he’s stroking the other man. Inside me.
“It has to be done, baby,” Aamon adds, finding my breasts. Palming the mounds. Squeezing and plumping them together tobury his face into. “Have to get these fat with milk.” He takes a nipple into his mouth. Pinches the other. “Have to put a baby in your cunt now that you’re open for business.”
It's on the tip of my tongue to remind him I only need his cock, not a whole hand, but he’s wedged straight into me by the man behind him. Aamon seems unperturbed by the shove. Doesn’t even stop sucking when Ciaran uses his free hand to guide his own cock into Aamon’s entrance.
Against my damp skin, Aamon grunts. He huffs as he’s impaled. His body shudders and he bites too hard on my nipples that he soothes immediately with his tongue.
He's merely a puppet.
A body Ciaran uses to fuck me. He guides Aamon in and out while maintaining a slow pump around the appendage in his palm.
Aamon lifts his head and our eyes meet. His are silver beneath the shade of the tree. They have a faint heartbeat that almost matches the symbol of my name carved into his chest.
He kisses me and we cling to each other as we’re both used. As Ciaran forces our bodies to the edge of torment.
Such unimaginable pleasure. It’s all so much, too much and not enough, and I just want to cum already.
“Vaelith...” I sob with frustration.
“Take it,” he growls. “Open big. Show me what a good girl you are for me.”
“It hurts,” I lie, watching the ridges of Ciaran’s knuckles push up beneath my skin as he squeezes Aamon and milks his cum inside me.
“I’ll kiss it better. I’ll clean your stretched cunt.”
The two pull out of my body, leaving me restless, aching and empty all over again.
Not that that seems to bother them when Ciaran wastes no time shoving Aamon across the foot of the bed and falling on his abused cock.
“Ciaran, no more. Please. I’m so sensitive ... shit!”
But Ciaran grabs his hips, pins him down. His mouth latches on Aamon’s cock sticky with my release. He ignores the whimper and wiggling from the other man.
I turn my face to Vaelith who hasn’t taken his eyes off me once.
“Please,” I beg him. “I want my husband’s knot to put a baby in me.”
He does not hesitate. Malakar pulls free without being told and Vaelith is on his feet. He says nothing as he storms off.
“To wash up.” Malakar tells me, closing the distance between us to capture my face. “I love you, Rina.”
I stare into his face, baffled by his confession until I realize why he seems so worried.
“I like it,” I say, sheepishly. “I like being your whore.”
He groans and kisses me. “You are my love first.”
Vaelith returns and Malakar barely has a chance to scramble out of the way when my king pulls me off the tree. I have a second to suck in a breath when I’m flipped and tossed over like a doll. I hit foam on my stomach, and I have a second to register that it’s the mattress when I’m dragged over the side. My legs are kicked wide.
And I am impaled on every rugged, rock-hard inch of my husband’s cock with its knot.
And I cum with a howl of anguish as my body releases around the monstrous dick drilling into me with the ferocity of a semi. It rails my abused opening like it betrayed him.
“How are you still so fucking tight after all you let them do to you?” he snarls, driving deeper, forcing me onto my toes. “Did you like knowing I was watching you whore yourself out?”
I weep in between rolling orgasms that refuse to let me breathe before slamming into the next one and the next. My head is a buzz of chaos and I’m incoherently screaming for him not to stop.
The floor is slick between my feet. My release runs down my quivering thighs in hot spurts.
