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I thought one, or both of them, might try something sexual, but I sank into the heated water and sighed as I nestled into the side of the tub, and the only thing that happened after that was the doctor joining me and pulling me into him and beneath his arm. I almost fell asleep in there.
Going to bed was a blur of drying myself, being told not to worry about clothes, and stumbling to the bed. Of course, I ended up in the middle, but…I was fine with that. If they snored, I knew nothing of it.
The bed was soft as summer rain.
* * *
I woke to a man pushing my legs apart and leaning his weight on my butt as he did so, pressing my lower body into the mattress. I was sleeping on my stomach with my head to the side, smooshed into a pillow. By the time I recalled where I was—in bed, on the island of Dr. Hulk—the man had shallowly introduced his dick to my pussy a few times and I was getting turned on enough to lie still and consider whether I should protest.
The holding down, the impromptu forcing, it fed my darker side, but I should do that protesting. I needed practice, and I liked the results from defying them.
“Heyyy.” My sleepy question was muffled by the pillow.
Heavy male shoulders and arms arrived to either side of my face, and he kissed the back of my neck. “Good morning, Charity. Hulk is away talking to Inigo, so we have some private time before he gets back.”
“Oh.”
That was Cassius, murmuring warmth on my neck, licking it, and biting me. He wriggled deeper between my legs, spreading me more, and inserted his cock a little further into my entrance, making me close my eyes to feel it going in.
Was there any better way to wake than with an insistent man fucking you?
I sucked in a breath, and decided to try to close my legs, just because I could, and because of the seven rules that never said I couldn’t, and because it excited me to try. He only chuckled intimately and kept going, as if I had no chance of succeeding. I rocked my ass from side to side then tried to twist my body, levering up on one elbow.
“Uh-uh. I have things to say and you to fuck.” His hands swallowed mine—our fingers, wrists, and palms intertwined as I strived to get mine loose. I lost and he pressed me into the sheets, my wrists sliding higher under his control and being trapped under the pillow, where my head also ended up.
He ducked his head under the big soft pillow and joined me, then began to talk while continuing his small, teasing thrusts. “You wanted to know…”
I squirmed and wished I had a gag for him.
“…what I saw yesterday while…” He drove in, and when I gasped, he kissed my open mouth. My soft breathing and moans seemed to echo in this under the pillow space. I could see his eyes flicker, his feral smile. He met each of my small cries with a new kiss, and it was such a fucking turn-on to be held down, half smothered, with him dedicated to studying me.
But then he was still, and with his cock pulsing inside me. I wiggled my ass then whined, pitiful though that was, and nothing happened. If I said more, would that help? Words had made him move. He’d punctuated sentences with thrusts, and I needed more grammar lessons like this.
“While?” I asked, prompting.
“Curious, are you?” He shifted higher into theVmade by my legs and speared in full depth. I choked and splayed myself, tried to arch. The pillow had flipped away, and morning light flooded my closed eyelids. From how he was rotating his hips and grinding his cock in circles, he planned to paint my insides with come.
“Yes!” I groaned and flexed my wrists within his hold, wanting to grab his hip and pull him into me. When I couldn’t move, I sank into the bed and waited, lost in the high of submission.
“While looking for you, last night”—he flexed his fingers on my ass, then traced what might be a bruise—“I found a room where the walls were decorated with knives and stuff. There were shelves with bottles with floating lumps, and in the middle was a steel table with a drain hole, maybe for blood. Ground floor. Fucking suspicious.”
Was it? For a doctor? I was alarmed but too rapt in the current state of our fucking to worry about fucking suspicious rooms.
That first true and glorious penetration had halted. Again I whined.
“More?” he asked.
I ached, desired, was drowned in need, and I nodded, vigorously.
A series of vicious thrusts followed, driving me into the bed and making me bounce. I suffered it willingly, needing to be stuffed this morning, simply needing this because, because…because I did. Horniness had no rulebook. Except, he then withdrew and sat on me, releasing my wrists. When I heard him jacking off, I tried to climb onto all fours. A hand, planted between my shoulder blades, flattened me again. I scowled as warm spurts of come drenched my back, first, and then my ass when he knee-walked lower.
“Heh. Marked. That’s to teach you not to come back with his come on you.”
My editor-writer brain whispered,that’s too much come in one sentence.
“I couldn’t—” I began.
“I made her.” The sound of the doctor’s voice then the bedroom door shutting infiltrated my grumbling thoughts. “A contest so early?”
