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These guys are trouble.
And now I’m in trouble.
What the hell has my father done to alienate them so? He’s not my favorite person in the world, but he’s not a bad man. He raised me singlehandedly. He could have afforded help, like a nanny or housekeeper, when my mother took off. But he wanted to do it all himself. Did he always do it right? Of course not. But I turned out okay.
Bottom line is, I hate these three men. I hate that I want them, and I hate myself most of all because of it.
I need to fight these feelings and stay mad. How the hell else will I escape? I can’t become complacent, regardless of the new clothes and freaking puppy they’re trying to manipulate me with. I have to stay on my toes. Look for opportunities to escape.
I’d even thought briefly about whether, given the opportunity, I’d kill them. I want to say I would. But the truth is, you don’t know the answer to something like that until you’re faced with the opportunity.
And now, Ilya and Bogdan are ravishing me, and while I shouldn’t enjoy it, I’m practically begging for it like a goddamn dog in heat. I’m weak. And ashamed.
“Such a pretty little bum,” Bogdan whispers next to my ear as he sets himself up behind me and bends over my back.
He’s running his cockhead over my asshole, and we both know what’s next.
I can’t fucking wait.
I want him inside me. All the way. I want him to dive so deeply I scream. I want him to wrap his legs around my hips, get on top of me, and drill my ass until I can’t walk. It will be a respite, however momentary, from my reality. I need it. Badly.
And when he pops his head inside my only slightly-prepared bottom, I screech, the burn radiating to the tips of my fingers and toes. I’ve done this before—not a lot, but still—and know that in seconds it will feel good. Really fucking good.
He pushes further, and I reach back with one of my hands to hold his hip to keep him from going too fast.
“You okay, baby?” he whispers, not pushing any further but pulsing in my rear end while he dislodges the hand I’m trying to control him with.
I gulp. “Yeah. Just give me a sec. Please,” I gasp.
My fingers clench into fists, then open, then fist again as I throw my head on the soft bed under me. I reach to rub my clit, but Bogdan intercepts my hand and pushes it back on to the bed.
“No playing with yourself, baby. That’s for me to do. If I feel like it,” he rasps.
In a minute or two I’m ready and push back for more dick. Bogdan laughs with pleasure.
“So fucking hot, baby, watching my cock slide in your asshole.”
He pushes harder and I grunt. We need lube, but I don’t want to stop for anything. Even if it is uncomfortable.
I might like the pain.
Actually, I know I like the pain.
When did I become so self-destructive?
Ilya appears next to us, stroking a brand-new erection, like he was bored from watching us across the room. “Fucking hot, baby,” he says, reaching under me to drag his finger between my cunt lips.
Did he touch Bogdan when he did that? Do these guys do stuff like that?
Ilya leaves my pussy and pushes his finger into my mouth. “Suck,malishka,” he growls.
I lick the cream off his finger, then close my lips around it, while Bogdan pushes deeper inside. I doubt I can take all of him, and even though he’s only partially up my ass, I know he likes it from his heavy breathing and moans.
A drop of spit hits my crack, and he rubs it around my asshole as if that’s going to help, and pushes a little further. He stops, and pulses for a bit, then withdraws and repeats.
I’m shaking from the delicious sensation in my behind and push back to take more. I feel like a flower opening up to a new universe of pleasure as everything between my legs clenches and throbs.
“Oh god,” I sputter, pushing Ilya’s finger out of my face, “oh god, oh god.”
