Page 55 of That Pucking New Girl

“Lock the door,” Alastair orders, grunting. “Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking about today, when I’m not locked into hockey?”

“Being a cock sucker?” I ask, my voice muffled from Ciaran’s hand. His body is still pressed tightly against me, and the heat of it is making me press my thighs tightly together as I squirm.

You hate them. Pretty cocks, tight asses, and all.

“Can’t hear you, sorry.” Alastair chuckles. “I’ve been wondering how tight your pussy is. You walk around like you’re untouchable.”

“As if you’re not scared of having the girls break all your bones and crush them to dust,” Ciaran hisses in my ear.

Fuck, that got dark fast.

“Not to mention all of this is goddamned artillery,” Draven snorts, his hands squeezing my thighs where my weapons are strapped.

I have a lot of secrets carved on my skin. Pain, tears, and nightmares tell a story only I know. I am not interested in a heart to heart, nor having them make pot shots at my mental health so I yank and shove against the hands holding me down.

“Don’t worry,” Alastair croons, dropping to his knees to rip my panties off. “We won’t be gentle, and you will scream when you come.”

My scream is strangled as they push me back until my ass hits the cold bench. Draven grins as he yanks my jersey up and over my head, using it to trap my arms to my sides like a vise. It may be a little loose normally, but he does something to tighten it so I’m unable to move.

Instead, I kick, trying to make sure I don’t overbalance so I won’t fall on my head. I doubt they’d catch me. Ciaran replaces his hand on my mouth, cutting off my curses, yanking me so I’m braced against his abdomen. Alastair takes advantage to push my legs up high and spread, so he can gaze at my pussy.

I shouldn’t have worried about him seeing my pale scars because none of them are looking at my thighs right now.

“So pink and wet,” Alastair groans, shoving his nose between my thighs to inhale deeply.

My face must be bright red with embarrassment, because I’ve been sweating a lot in my costume. He doesn’t give a flying fuck as he licks up my slit before sucking hard on my clit. His groans of enjoyment are loud and explicit, his nose bumping against my clit as it gets in on the action.

I never thought a nose could be this fucking sexy. Alastair eats pussy with the same intensity that he plays hockey. I’ve never had oral before, and I doubt anyone else will be able to live up to these boys.

Fucking assholes!

“That’s it, baby. Come all over his face,” Draven coos, his phone now in his hand and trained on me. “I bet you’ll make the perfect porn star.”

They can’t use it. I know they can’t because I’m not yet eighteen. If they know everything about me, then they do too.

My thighs clench as I shudder, and Ciaran shoves my bra up to show my tits off. They’re modest, given my weight, but when he squeezes one with his free hand, he hums with approval.

I must have fallen and hit my head, because Ciaran’s always been less than pleased outwardly about my body.

Alastair growls as he glances up at Ciaran, saying something without speaking. Ciaran loops my leg over his forearm, freeing up Alastair to push his fingers into my cunt.

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” Draven mutters, careful to keep the camera on my pussy. I don’t know how much you can tell that it’s Alastair eating me out, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.

They want me to know that I’m their plaything and I can’t do anything about it. This is about control. Any pleasure I might feel is secondary at best. Their egos won’t allow me not to come unless that’s what they want.

“She’s fucking tight,” Alastair says with a grunt, his fingers slowly fucking me. “Fuck, you’re going to strangle my cock like a good girl, aren’t you?”

His lips and tongue flick, lick, and suck on my clit, ruthlessly forcing me closer to my release. His hair is loose and wet around his face, the dark brown making him appear even more dangerous as his caramel gaze looks up the length of my body.

My inner walls tremble as I clench down on his fingers, and I try to keep myself from giving him what he wants. He won’t get me to come. I refuse.

“So goddamned stubborn,” Ciaran murmurs, his body leaning over me as he presses his lips to my ear. That’s quite a feat at over six feet tall, but he does it. “If Alastair can get me to come, you don’t stand a chance, Nope. Feel the way he curls his fingers inside your cunt. He’s stroking that secret spot everyone else forgets, isn’t he?”

I want to scream that no one has done this before, because people don’t care if you come or not when they’re taking things from you without your permission. They don’t…

“Agh!” I scream behind Ciaran’s hand in frustration because he’s not wrong.

Alastair is curling his fingers up as he fucks me with them. His way of force is different. It’s making my body betray me as he lights the fuse inside me with little effort. I didn’t know my body could do this. I’ve never owned any toys, nor have I ever been interested enough to make myself come.