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She was wet for them and his blunt words brought about another gush of arousal from between her legs, which Malcolm used to ease his thumb into her back passage. Arabella stiffened, but he whispered, “Relax, lass. Give yourself over to us.”
That is what she wanted to do. So Arabella closed her eyes and centered herself on the sensations. Upon the turgid member shifting in and out of her mouth. Upon Davy’s hips pushing against her face, his coppery pubic hair tickling her nose. Upon Malcom’s thumb popping through some ring of flesh, causing discomfort, but not pain.
Of course, the sinfulness of it erased even the discomfort. And Arabella surprised herself by pushing back upon Malcolm’s hand to take more, then pushing forward to take Davy deeper. When this movement caused a groan from the man behind her, and then another groan from the man in front of her, she did it again. And again. With utter abandon.
“That’s a naughty little minx,” Davy coaxed her, murmuring endearments. “What a treasure you are.”
Malcolm uttered a filthy curse that was no less delightful for its obscenity. He continued to work his thumb into her tight passage, stroking her backside with plain intention, kneading the flesh there, nipping her hip when she thrust back to take it deeper. Then a different finger worked its way into the other opening, giving her a small preview of what it would be like to take them both at once.
“You are all silky heat,” Malcolm said, as she rubbed herself against him.
He was stretching her. Making her ready. But she was ready, she thought. Because she couldn’t take much more of this. Perhaps Davy knew it, because he withdrew his slick penis from her mouth, and gently pushed her down to the mattress. To Malcolm, he said, “I could have her mount me and you thrust into her from behind, but your wound—”
“I can take her from the side,” Malcolm said, resting upon the hip of his good leg, his bandaged one splayed almost lazily, as if to show off his proud manhood. He made a motion to Arabella, drawing him to her, nestling her bottom tight against his groin.
“Ohhhhh,” Arabella sighed in pleasure at the way Malcolm’s chest hair tickled softly against her back. At the way his swollen cock nestled between her cheeks.
“Do you feel what you do to me, lass?” Malcolm asked, from over her shoulder.
“To both of us,” Davy said, grinning as he slid into the bed beside her, his jutting erection pressing against her belly.
“I do,” she said.“I feel wanted.”
And it was a wonderful feeling.
“How beautiful you are,” Davy told her, pushing hair back behind her ears while Malcolm ran a hand down her hip.
“Don’t be frightened,” Malcolm told her. “Your maidenhead is a stretchy thing, but it will tear when we take you. It will bleed a wee bit and hurt you. Hurt all of us, actually. But then it’s all pleasure.”
She wanted that. Wanted the pleasure. Was willing to bleed to get it. Though Arabella’s mind was buzzing like a hive, her body writhing against the bodies of two strong men, one thing Malcolm said caught her attention above the rest. “Painful for all of us?”
“Aye,” Malcolm rasped. “T’will be tight for us both to fit.”
He would have to push, she realized. With his wounded leg.
“But I don’t want to give you pain,” Arabella cried.
Malcolm held her still, a hand at her hip. “If you’re willing to endure it for us, lass, shouldn’t we be willing to endure it for you?”
If she were a better person, she would argue against it. But Arabella was in such a state now that she could only think of the burning need in her body. A need that flared the moment Davy lifted her leg up and over Malcolm’s hip.
“There may be a bit of clumsiness with all the hands we’ll have in the region,” Davy explained. “And an unfortunate bit of dueling between his manhood and mine as we work into you. Can you be a brave lass?”
Arabella nodded just as Malcolm’s shaft slipped between her slick folds.
A bolt of lust struck her center.
Another followed swiftly after when Davy rubbed the bulbous head of his cock against the nub he had suckled upon earlier that nearly sent her over a cliff of pleasure. “Please, whatever it is you must do, I need you to do it,” Arabella cried, her breathy voice nearing a sob. “I beg of you. I beg of you!”
“You need us to fuck you,” Malcolm said, with a fierce edge of lust.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Arabella said, so far gone that she dared to use the word. “I need you to fuck me. I need it.”
That is what they needed to hear. Malcolm positioned himself at her entrance and Davy did the same. That’s when Arabella began to think it would never work. She did not think she could fit even one of them inside her. Definitely not both. But the men seemed to believe otherwise. They wanted this. She could tell. Davy looked at her with a fierce desire. As if she were the only woman in the world. And Malcolm held her still as if something would break in him if she were to escape his arms.
“Now,” Malcolm said softly.
Together they strained, slowly pushing into her. She felt the pressure. The unbelievable pressure and tried to open to it. Bu
