Page 28 of Monstrous Serpent

“Fuck you, you psycho piece of shit.”

He tightens his grip, and my breath stutters.

Hands wrap around my ankles, and my upper lip lifts into a snarl. “Let go.”

“Don’t think so.”

“I said, let go!” I try pulling my legs back, but the loudmouth is strong. I wiggle and lift, attempting to shift my weight. “Assholes!”

The loudmouth tightens his grip, head tilted. His chest is rising and falling fast. And the asshole behind me growls.

What the hell is wrong with them?

The hands on my ankles flex again.

I stop struggling for a second and follow his line of sight.

No.

That's not—I'm not—How the fuck am I hard right now?

But I am. There’s no missing the outline of my dick, not with my pants pulled that tight around it.

Fuck this shit.

I yank my legs hard and fast. One gets free, and I kick out, my foot connecting with the loudmouth’s shoulder.

The hand in my hair disappears, and a massive arm wraps around my chest, pinning my arms while pulling me into the equally large body it belongs to. “Hit him again, and I'll put you down.”

“Don’t care.” I kick out again, but the jerk in front ducks it.

The asshole behind me hooks his legs around mine, trapping them. I can't move. Can't kick. Can't twist.

“You trying to get me off with all that wiggling?”

And that’s when I feel his hard dick press against my ass through my chinos, which are apparently thin enough to feel everything because I can feel everything.

No one moves. No one says anything. There’s nothing but the sound of my breathing and a slight rustling of leaves.

The asshole under me shifts, slowly grinding himself against my ass, and the damn squeak comes out again. His arm loosens, lowering, and I suck in a breath, my hands grabbing his forearm.

He grinds again. Up. Then down.

My dick throbs, and every time the asshole moves, the seam of my chinos drags across it, lighting my whole body up. I gasp when he grinds again, my nails digging into the skin of his arm.

A grunt catches my attention, and I look up.

Loudmouth is palming himself, his hand drifting up, then down.

I blink, mouth hanging open. Heat spreads from my groin to my stomach to the base of my spine.

Fingers trace alongside my dick, like they did last weekend. But they never touch me. My eyes close as those fingers drag back up, my back arching.

I turn into his fingers, then his palm.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

I buck hard. Twice. Another squeak escapes as I fill my boxers.