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“Then show me.” She panted back. Was that her pleading voice? It was as familiar as the keening cry of a dying alien on a distant moon. Completely unrecognizable. Just as she herself was unrecognizable. In the darkness, with his hands in tandem with hers. The soft feminine touch on her breasts combined with his harsher, calloused hands. Behind the safety of her mask, taboo images played in flickers like the reel of a 16mm camera in a darkened theater. Another woman’s hands held her apples. Another man, no, a group of men and women, devoured her pleasure-fruit. Taking her body any way they wanted. Her pussy jerked again.
“What naughty thoughts went through your head when your thighs earthquaked?” She shook her head. No way. No fucking way was he getting that deep in her head. Besides, it wasn’t something she’d ever act on… But the contrast of their male and the female caresses had earthquaked a rip through the core of everything she believed.
“Not sharing, huh?” His hands slipped away but returned with a light whirring sound that stiffened her back.
Her hands froze mid-pull. “What’s… What’s that?”
“You know what it is. You said; you have never come other than by your own hand.” He fanned his low command against her cheek. “Show me.”
“No, no I couldn’t.” She denied. But her pussy bleated out its answer like a mare in heat. Bubbling moisture to her pussy lips. She could. She really could.
“No,” he shrugged behind her. “Then let me.”
Oh, God. What was he doing? She grabbed his hand, but instead of pushing away, she gripped it tighter. He’d slipped two of his fingers into the soft spike of a small vibrator. Her nose crinkled up against the bottom her mask. She almost laughed. What were two little fingers supposed to do? Men were so clueless. She relaxed back against his chest wall. That tiny thing wouldn’t compare to her six-inch device.
His soft whisper glazed her ear. “I have it at the lowest setting.”
“Mmm-kay.” She muttered, torn between a grin and rolling her eyes. And then… Shit! He pressed the vibrating finger on the top of her pussy lips. Mashing the crevice above her clit. Was that the fucking low setting? Finger one lit up her clit with multiple lightning strikes detonating through her core. She arched her back, running away from the sensation.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Be still.”
“I can’t.”
“Do you not have one of these marvelous toys? I would have had my men search your house for it and bring it to me. But I decided to start again from scratch. I didn’t want anything used by you and that boy.”
“He didn’t.” She squirmed, rocking her clit into and then away from his finger. “He wouldn’t.” She hissed while her thighs trembled and shook.
“Then he was a fool.” He started finger number two’s rapid whirr. Her legs froze.
“Trust me.” He repeated holding the device against the lips covering her clit again.
“I know what you need.”
“What do I need?”
“You need me. He dragged his lips over her shoulder.”
“You need this.” His fingers, those long wicked instruments, opened her lips. Dipping one finger inside to meet the other.
Jessa’s ass rocketed off the bed. “Shit.” Her fingers dug into the tops of his thighs. Scratching up the skin beneath her nails.
“Ah, my dove has claws.”
“Oh God, sorry.” She flattened her palms on the muscles bunching beneath her hands. Grabbing them as roughly as she had her breasts.
“Don’t apologize.” He growled another whisper. “I like it. It gives me permission to be just as rough.” His fingers slid down the lips of her vulva. Stirring along the fatty folds as if they were lips. Tugging and pulling, rubbing the two lips together and working the pooling moisture into her skin.”
“I want to see this pussy? Is it caramel and honey, like your skin? Or is it the darkest chocolate? I can’t stop thinking of sweet foods that melt in my mouth whenever I think of your pussy. I want this pussy melting in my mouth. I want to eat it. Drink from its fountain. Own. It.”
Her pussy lips opened and closed, trying to suck his fingers into her waiting slash. Her hips lifted and reached for his fingers every time they retreated. Until he plunged in and gave her what she wanted. Her head whipped forward and slammed back into the wall of his chest. At the sudden invasion.
“Tell me, Jessalyn Isamailov, do I own this pussy?”
“Shit.”
“Not the answer I want.” He dragged one hand out while pressing his vibrating fingers down with the other. Growling. “Say it. Say I own your pussy.”
His fingers hooked and curled. Searching and finding the ridge that vibrated from the toy he used outside. The fingers snapped together. The outside and the inside fingers, pressing and compressing her clit from both sides. Working her until her pussy was frothing and foaming at the lips. Angry. Insane. Shit! “Yes, you own it…” she warbled madly. It was insanity. Her juices dripped down his hand. And his arm rodded between her thighs as she snaked around his arms to keep him from withdrawing. Riding his digits like an octopus squeezing the life from its victim.
