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“What do you want, Lucia? Tell me.” Victor caresses my arm, as if trying to soothe a scared animal, but it works. I find the courage.
“Please, fuck me. I need… I need you. All of you.”
I don’t know what I’ll do if he refuses. The slight pause before Victor answers feels like condemnation.
But he gives me a small smile. “Good girl. Yes, we’ll give you what you need.”
I should feel relieved, and I am, but I’m also terrified. He could change his mind. Saint and Angelo could refuse. What was I thinking, asking for all of them after what they’d done to me?
A small voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I’d deserved it. I’d asked for Angelo’s brother’s killer to come rescue me. I’d betrayed their trust in me in one of the worst ways possible. Was it any wonder they’d punished me so horribly?
I shudder and push away those thoughts, focusing instead on Victor’s touch. He kisses me again, a little more firmly this time, and pushes me down so I’m on my back beneath him. My breath catches as I look up at him, those usually stern features not quite soft, but not quite as hard as usual either.
He caresses the insides of my thighs, light touches so counter to how I’ve been treated before. I feel like such a wreck, that every bit of gentleness makes me break more, but I have to blink against the build-up of tears. I try to cover my face, but Saint pulls my hand back down.
“Don’t hide from us, kitten,” Saint says quietly. “Every part of you is ours.”
I nod, although I’m still embarrassed by how pathetic I must look, and I’m so grateful that they aren’t using this against me. I know how easily they could.
I’m not sure what I expected from Victor as a lover. I’ve only sucked his cock—warmed his cock with my mouth—but this is vastly different. His touches are so light and tender that they leave me craving more. He leans down, kissing me, then murmurs gently against my lips, “Take my boxers off.”
I obey, reaching to the elastic waistband and pushing them down. Angelo reaches out, helping to slide them the rest of the way down Victor’s legs, and they exchange a look I can’t comprehend. Angelo is smirking, though, which is better than I’d have expected. I would’ve thought he’d be pissed at me.
I guess he thinks the time I spent in the trunk was punishment enough, and I more than agree. I won’t ever pull that again.
Victor’s already half-hard, and I tentatively reach out to give his cock a slow stroke. He nods at me, giving me that approval I need, so I keep going. I slide the foreskin back a bit, rubbing the head, and a bead of precum escapes. He doesn’t give me any instructions on how he wants his cock handled, but I can make a guess that what he wants is something soft—adoring, even,worshipful, like I’d never felt something so perfect in my life. Every man is different, and these three will have their own preferences.
I’m so desperate to please that I want to try everything, anything, just to make them stay happy with me.
Saint reaches out, brushing my hair from my neck and kissing me softly there, and Angelo reaches over him to give one of my nipples a squeeze. The mechanics of this are awkward, and I know they’ll only get more confusing. But most of all, I’m just overwhelmed by all the touches. My body reacts, and I squirm, feeling the wetness between my thighs.
When Victor is fully hard, he takes my hand off his cock and kisses my knuckles. “Very good.” Then he pushes my thighs up and slots his cock against my cunt, simply rubbing along it at first. I’m already clenching inside in anticipation.
Saint reaches under my thighs and uses one hand to open me up. My face flares up with humiliation, this feeling of being gaping and open, but as soon as Victor slides in, I forget everything else. Just his heat inside me, filling me completely, reminding me that I’m not alone. I want to wrap my arms around Victor, but it’s impossible from this angle. I turn my head and kiss whatever parts of Saint I can reach instead, his shoulder and collar.
Victor feels so good, his movements gentle, as if he knows just how sore I am from the constant abuse by that vibrator. Meanwhile, Saint keeps stroking the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh.
I fumble for Saint’s cock, completely uncoordinated, and I’m surprised when I bump up against another hand. I glance down and see that Angelo is giving Saint a slow handjob, although Angelo—and Saint—are both looking directly at me. I start pulling my hand away, but Angelo loosens his grip on Saint’s cock and guides me back.
It’s an awkward position, but even as Victor slowly thrusts inside of me, I stroke Saint’s cock in tandem. I already know he’s the smallest of the three, but that doesn’t mean he’s less than average. It takes up my hand and then some, and I squeeze on the way down before I get to his piercing. The metal is warm against my hand, and I play with it, fascinated by the idea that he actually got his cockhead pierced.
I don’t think about it for long because Victor picks up the pace, as though demanding my attention once more. I look up at him, startled, and he kisses me with all the authority he always exudes. There’s no denying who’s in charge here, even if all three of them are touching me and I’m touching in turn. This is so much better than the box, by far, even though I’m still skittish. I’m afraid that if I move wrong, if I touch wrong, they’ll put me back inside. Even though Victor had offered to let me sleep, I don’t know if any of this is a trick. But Victor’s cock inside of me feels so good that I’m able to chase away those unwanted thoughts.
It doesn’t take long after that for Victor to spill inside me, and I almost cry out because I don’t want him to leave yet. I even clench harder to keep him there. He must realize what I’m doing, because he snorts in amusement and pets my hair. “Don’t worry. There’s still Santino and Angelo.”
At least he no longer looks so put together. Sweat has ruined his hair style, and his face has a small hint of red. He’s not unaffected by all this, by me.
It’s oddly comforting.
When he pulls out, some of his cum trickles out with him. He rubs some of it onto my skin before laying down next to me and kissing me again.
“You can go first,” Angelo says to Saint. “I’ll wait until she’s loose enough for me.”
Small favors.
Saint glances at him, and I can see him rolling his eyes even in the relative darkness of Victor’s room. But he’s on top of me in seconds, already leaning down to kiss me. Both of his hands find my breasts, squeezing and kneading them. His cock leaks against my thigh, and I feel both the liquid and the metal of his piercing rubbing against my skin.
I feel so empty though, even still. That vibrator inside of me had done a number on me, and now I can’t help but want him inside.
