Page 53 of Boneyard HEA

When he cups my burning ass cheeks, and murmurs threats to flog me until he makes me come with the flogger alone, arousal ignites.

“You’re so fucking adorable when you whine.” He rocks into me, arms wrapped around my neck and below my breasts, with the hard ridge of his cock settling into the cleft of my ass.

I curl my hands over the rope and do more of that yearning. I wish, I wish he could fuck me. I can almost feel his cock sliding along and impaling me, forcing apart the walls of my pussy, squeezing all the way in.

As he stays there, arms locked, teasing me with words and cock, with all the things no sane woman would want, and I’m panting, half from the pain, half from this stupid need.

“Shall I fuck her ass now?”

My eyes pop wider. “Mm-snnnd!” I tongue the gag, try to spit it out, feeling the movement of his body as he laughs silently.

“Is she wet enough?” Loxland tilts his head and watches as Tomás slides his hand along my slit from behind.

“Yes. We could use condoms. That’ll make the sand on her pussy less a problem.”

I growl through the gag.

I want to murder them both as they discuss lube and what to do with what part of me.

“Plan B?” Tomás says.

“Plan B. Be back soon, little psycho.”

“We calling her that now?”

“I guess?” Their conversation fades.

It’s become quite dark, and I watch in disbelief as they vanish between the trees. Where are they going? They can’t be deserting me? We walked here, so we have no car. No. They can’t be.

I pull at the rope, and it moves but doesn’t break or give.

I’m almost ready to try screaming and begin counting backward to fifty. Screaming will bring strangers…eventually, and maybe the wrong kind. At least there’s no animal predators on Dragon Island, only my human ones.

Still, the darkness is frightening when you’re tied up and in a dark corner hidden by a small forest.

Fuck. I dart my focus here, there, striving to see if they’re still out there. Just when my heart is thudding scattered beats and I’m hearing creatures in the undergrowth that cannot possibly be there, they saunter up to me. The sick bastards.

Tomás has something shiny and long swinging from his hand and he’s allowed first go at me, from what they’re saying. Whatever that means. First go? I watch suspiciously as he goes behind me.

Smooth, cold metal is pressed to my nape.

Humming, he meanders it down my skin as if he’s drawing a path, leaving a trail of something cold and wet. I squeak as he reaches my butt and pushes it between my spread-open legs. I hear him go to his knees as he continues its path, advancing what seems a round bulb partway into my pussy entrance, before he withdraws it, backtracking to tease my other hole.

I move as much as I can, trying to dodge what he’s doing, while Mr. Loxland merely watches. Though the darkness conceals, the moon is casting some light, and his cock is in his hand. Unhurriedly, he strokes his fist down it.

Tomás clamps a hand to my hip, holds me still, and nudges that metal thing into my asshole, until it slips past the tight ring of muscle. Shocked, I inhale sharply and make an O around the tape of the gag.

“Fucking nice,” he murmurs, stroking the back of my thigh. “It’s in.” He rises, and a moment later rope taps against my back as he winds my hair about his hand. He’s tying the rope to my hair, pulling it taut, which drags on the thing he inserted.

An ass hook? “Oh!” That feels odd as he cranks the rope tighter, pulling my head further back and driving the ass hook deeper at the same time.

“Beautiful,” he purrs. “Drawback is we can’t fuck her there.”

“But it sure makes her look helpless. Our little submissive looks like a snack, ready for the wolves.”

Tomás chuckles. “She does. Flip for who gets which hole first?”

I thought there was sand on me? Were they joking?