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It’s so arrogant and full of disdain it makes my blood boil. I scream and slap him as hard as I can.
In shock, I stand staring in horror as his cheek turns red, the sound of the crack of flesh against flesh ringing in my ear.
“God, that’s hot,” Dom says.
His hand shoots out, and he grabs my hair and gathers it in a ponytail. I gasp in pain as he pulls my head back.
I try to get away, but I can’t. Suddenly, his mouth is on mine, hard and demanding. He kisses me at first, but then he bites my lip, and I whimper as I taste blood. He releases my hair, pulls away quickly, and stares at me, breathing hard.
His eyes narrow. “A taste and then you can leave.”
“You already kissed me,” I say, confused.
A taste of what?
“No, Duchess. A taste of your pussy. I’ve been watching it on the big screen, and I want the real thing.”
“No.”
I step back and hit a wall of solid muscle. I don’t even turn around. Kirill.
“Hold her,” Dom says.
“I swear to God, Dom. I’ll tell my mother.” I won’t, though, and we both know it. Even the idea of her knowing what’s going on is mortifying.
“Oh? Do you want her to see your moment of fame?” He laughs as my cheeks turn red.
My heart hammers, and I’m short of breath. Are they really going to do this? It was one thing fantasizing about being with all three of them, but the reality of it is very different.
“One taste,” he insists. “I already know you like a man’s mouth on your pussy. I’ve seen the footage. I won’t hurt you. I won’t make you do anything else. Just one taste?”
“No,” I say again more firmly, though my voice is high pitched with panic. “Now let me go.”
No one moves.
I wait, braced for the moment he forces me. I’m trembling all over.
Dom crowds me until there’s no space between where I end and he begins. He reaches between my thighs, and his fingers brush right over the front of my jeans, grazing my core, and I whimper softly at the sensation. I hate him, and I’m angry and scared, but those feelings seem to be heightening my arousal.
“You want me to touch you,” he whispers. “You just can’t admit it.”
He strokes me through my clothes, expert fingers playing with my clit in a way that, even through the fabric, has me on edge within moments. It doesn’t help that I’d already gotten myself all worked up while I was watching them.
“You said no, Duchess. So, I won’t make you show me your pussy.” He is still rubbing me, the friction insane through the denim, and I’m trying not to show him how hot it has me. “I won’t lick it and taste it. I won’t make you come and send you back to bed all wet and hot but satisfied.”
He slaps the front of my pussy twice, and laughs. “You can go on back to your bed all needy instead. When you’re there, think about me and the things I could be doing to you.”
“You’ll never get a taste of me, if I have any say in it,” I grind out.
“Why not? Tino did.”
I glance at Kirill, unable to stop myself, and Dom’s gaze narrows as he glances between us both. “Oh, Kirill too?”
I don’t speak, but my cheeks flame hot.
“You kept that to yourself, Kill,” Dom snaps.
Kirill winks at me. “I promised the lady I wouldn’t kiss and tell.”
