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“I want them seeing how wet you are for me, baby girl. I want people knowing how turned on you are, just because I was watching you. I want them watching you coming while you scream my name and hold my face to your cunt.”
He dove between my legs, his mouth fitting to my clit and tonguing it wildly. His fingers speared up inside me, and I instantly rocked on them, encouraging him to go faster, harder, deeper.
“God, you taste good. Like spun fucking sugar,” he groaned into my thigh. He sat back and ran a finger through my juices. “You’re so wet you’re dripping on the couch, baby girl, and it’s the sweetest sight I’ve ever seen. Every man outside that door right now is so hard looking at your sweet slit.”
War was the king of perverted dirty talk and exhibitionism. But I was beginning to think I got off on it too, because the more he talked, the more he put me on display for whoever was outside, the more I wanted it. I could feel how wet and needy I was, and my mewling noises of need begged for him to just give it to me.
His fingers still fucking me, he kissed his way up my stomach to my breasts. One nipple disappeared into his mouth, the other tweaked and teased by his fingers. “First it was closed doors. Now a peephole. What next, baby girl? You gonna let me pound you out in the main room with everyone watching? I’m not gonna lie. I can’t wait for that.”
I had a feeling I would let War do whatever the hell he wanted. “You gotta let me come here first,” I pleaded.
“Then come.”
He added a third finger, and I completely unraveled. The thickness stretched me so good, it rolled through my body like a wave, taking out everything else in its path. Nothing existed except me and the orgasm and the man who’d given it to me. I screamed and writhed, until War backed off and gave me something else to do with my mouth.
He undid his fly, lowering his pants just enough to free his erection. His dick was thick and hard and huge, just like I knew it would be. His fingers speared into my hair, pulling it tight, my scalp prickling deliciously.
“Open your mouth, baby girl. Wanna feel your moans on my cock.”
I did so eagerly, taking him inside me and sucking on the head of him. He was soft velvet skin over steel, and his precum tang hit the back of my tongue, only encouraging me further because I wanted to take it all. As much as he’d given me and more.
I gripped his hips, letting him thrust into my mouth, more and more turned on by the control he had over me. I was so wet and slippery on the couch beneath me. I stared up at him, my legs still spread wide so he could stand between them. His gaze met mine while he thrust in and then pulled out of my mouth, his hand on my head exerting just enough pressure to let me know what he wanted.
I wanted to show him that I could do a good job of this, even without his guidance.
I took him deeper and deeper into my throat, delighting in the way he cussed out my name.
“Fuck, Bliss. Stop before I come down your throat.”
I wouldn’t have minded. But then he was pushing me onto my back and settling between my thighs, and I wanted his cock there even more.
He rubbed his dick along my slit, teasing and torturing me with every swipe, so close to where I really needed him. I squirmed and shifted beneath him, trying to line us up, desperate for him to fill me. When he finally did, it was with an effortless slide. I cried out once more, still sensitive from my earlier orgasm. I clutched him to me, feeling how thick and hard he was and thrusting up to meet him because I needed to. It was a primal, basic urge, a desperation to come that drove me on, grinding against him until I was panting, groaning, and then screaming.
I screamed so loud as the orgasm hit me that there was no doubt the people outside would hear. I couldn’t help it. I came harder than I ever had before, everything inside me swirling and exploding and ripping noises from me I couldn’t possibly contain.
The door slammed open again.
War looked up, but in the next minute he was gone, thrown into the floor.
“What the hell?” he stuttered, grabbing at the man looming over him with murder in his eyes.
I squealed and on instinct scuttled away from the two men grappling with each other, trying to cover my nakedness with my hands and arms.
Vincent’s fist slammed into War’s cheek with a sickening thud of flesh against flesh.
I screamed. “Vincent! No! What are you doing? Stop!”
But it was like he didn’t hear me. His fist pounded into War again, and though War tried to give it back, Vincent had had the element of surprise and definitely had the upper hand.
The shock subsided, and common sense found its way in. I wasn’t going to just sit here and scream while the two of them tried to kill each other. I threw myself between them, getting in Vincent’s face, shoving at his shoulders, trying to get him to focus on me, not War.
He pulled back to swing again but stopped when I screamed, “We were having sex! He wasn’t hurting me!”
He stopped. Blinked. And then pushed back to his feet, backing off to the corner.
Relief crashed through me. I turned to War. “Are you okay?”
He spat blood out on the floor, prodding at his bleeding lip and then wincing. “Fine. Not like I’ve never been punched before, but I’m gonna fucking kill—”
