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She wanted this.
Lancelot forced her arms behind her back once more, then held them in place by plastering his front to her back. His cock was jammed against her ass, his hands wrapping around her. One went to her breasts, and the other dipped down between her spread legs.
Hugo grabbed his cock, angled it toward her mouth.
Lancelot cupped her right breast in his left hand. His fingers found and pinched the nipple.
Hugo’s cock slid over her lower lip, the head pressing in, filling her mouth.
Lancelot’s right hand cupped her pussy. He didn’t spread her labia, didn’t delicately rub her clit. He grabbed her pussy and applied pressure, almost lifting her.
That was enough—the hand in her hair, cock in her mouth, fingers on her nipple, and hand on her pussy pushed her over the edge. She came, a hard, quick orgasm unlike anything she’d experienced before. She was used to the slow burn that built and grew until it was a tidal wave. This was like diving off a cliff into the ocean—short, shocking, and intense.
Sylvia didn’t have time to contemplate because they were far from done with her. Hugo’s cock pressed deeper into her mouth, touching the back of her throat. She fought her gag reflex. He pulled out, just enough that she could suck in a breath, but then he was fucking her mouth, pressing in deeper than before, until she could feel him in her throat.
Lancelot parted her sex, fingers sliding easily through her slick folds. She felt his cock jump against her ass.
“Get down here, Hugo. I’m going to fuck her pussy while you fuck her mouth. I can’t wait. She’s so fucking wet.”
Hugo pulled out and stepped back. Lancelot released her pussy and breasts, but grabbed her hips. “Hands and knees,” he commanded.
Sylvia obeyed, her world foggy from the combination of pleasure from the orgasm and ongoing arousal. Need pulsed through her. Her whole body felt hot and tender, as if each inch of skin had more nerve endings than ever before.
She planted her hands on the floor, looking down at the familiar carpet of her living room.
She’d never look at it again without remembering this moment.
Hugo landed on his knees, his hand immediately going to her hair. He grabbed it, forcing her head up. She looked at him, and his gaze was hot and dangerous. His cheeks and upper chest were flushed. Some primal part of her reveled in the evidence that she wasn’t the only one who was wildly aroused.
“Open your mouth,” Hugo demanded.
Sylvia licked her lips, then opened. He fed her his cock, sliding in slowly. She closed her eyes, but could feel him watching her, feel him watching his cock disappearing into her mouth.
Then Lancelot’s hands were on her ass, sliding down the backs of her thighs. He spread her legs once more, making a place for himself between them. Last night they’d played with her, pleasured her, before daring to fuck her.
Not today.
Lancelot’s cock grazed the back of her thigh, her labia, and then it was sliding up the valley of her sex to her entrance. He positioned himself, grabbed her hips, and thrust in.
Sylvia’s eyes popped open, and if her mouth hadn’t been full of Hugo’s cock, she would have shrieked in pleasure. She was full, stretched, pinned by the iron-hard length of their cocks—Hugo in her mouth, Lancelot in her pussy.
Her fingers dug into the carpet, her body trembling.
“Won’t last,” Hugo panted. “Make her come.”
Lancelot reached under her kneeling body, fingers grabbing her pussy. He was thrusting into her, pounding into her so deep and hard that each time he thrust in, her whole body shifted forward and Hugo’s cock sank deeper into her mouth.
Devious, clever man that he was, Lancelot used that. He cupped her pussy, two fingers along either side of her clit, but didn’t try to stroke her. No, he let the motion of their fucking shift her body against his hand. It was an uneven, unpredictable stimulation, as raw and untamed as the primal way they were fucking her.
Using her.
Taking her.
Pleasuring her.
Hugo thrust into her mouth, Sylvia sucking hard on his cock, at the same time that Lancelot shoved in. She was pinned, skewered, and that was all it took. She came, and this time it was a tidal wave. Pleasure shook her, but it wasn’t just pleasure. That was too pale a word.
Satisfaction. She was satisfied in a way she’d never known, her body literally shaking in reaction to the power of the orgasm. Dimly she heard them exclaiming, first Hugo, then Lancelot, as they climaxed. She swallowed as Hugo came, something she normally didn’t enjoy, but caught as she was in the moment of ecstasy, she reveled in it.
