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I swear angrily around Tino’s cock, making nothing but muffled sounds.
Tino laughs. “What was that, Duchess? Huh?”
“Do you want to come, Kukla?” Kirill says softly.
I nod around Tino’s cock, and he hums deep in his throat. “Make Tino come, and then I’ll make you come.”
His words have me renewing my efforts. I suck and lick, bobbing up and down on Tino’s cock like I’m doing a good impression of a girl in a porno. I keep my gaze raised, focusing on Tino’s expression, making sure I’m reading him well. From how hard his cock is, and the way he’s clenching his jaw, his eyes full of dark intensity, I’m sure I’m doing a good job. Drool runs from the corner of my mouth, and my eyes stream from the effort, but there’s no way I’m stopping. I want these men to never need to even think about another girl.
I feel him swell between my lips, and he starts to lose control.
“Fuck, oh, fuck yeah,” he groans.
He jams himself so deep down my throat, I’m bound to be bruised. Tino gushes down my throat like a geyser.
When he’s finished and tucks himself away, Kirill picks me up out of the hot tub and carries me to a pool side lounger. He places me on it and carefully undoes the strings on my bikini until I’m naked, nothing on me at all.
He spreads my legs and pets my pussy, patting it and stroking it. “So pretty,” he says. “I love this pussy.”
He spreads me wide again and pushes two fingers inside me. When he’s got them deep, he crooks them, hitting my G-spot. My back bows, and I swear as my orgasm crashes over me. I grip the edges of the mattress, my toes curling, as it shudders through me again and again.
This time, thank God, Kirill doesn’t pull his fingers out. He lets me come, and I flush as I feel how much wetness I’ve covered his fingers with.
“Good girl, Kukla.” He murmurs the nickname against my skin as he kisses my throat. “Now I will come on you.”
He turns to Tino. “Hold her lips spread wide. I want to come on her clit.”
Tino does as Kirill says, and the Russian stares at my pussy, his teeth gritted as he jerks himself hard and fast. My gaze is fixed on the sight of his gorgeous dick in his big hand, watching how he works himself, and memorizing the exact touch and amount of pressure he uses. He comes all over my still sensitive clit, soaking me in his hot seed.
When he’s finished, he sighs and leans down, rubbing himself into me.
Gently, he pushes two fingers inside, making sure some of his cum gets inside me.
Dom stares down at us. “Such a pretty, perfect doll.”
Dom’s words are the usual mocking words I’ve come to expect from him, but his tone is different. It holds an edge of awe.
“We won’t make you cry ever again,” Kirill says.
Tino offers his flirtatious grin. “Unless its ’cause you’ve got my giant dick stuffed down your throat.”
“No more tears.” Dom rubs at the back of his neck. “We were assholes.”
Holy hell. Is this an apology? An admission of wrongdoing on their part?
“Yes, the worst, and you didn’t deserve it,” Tino admits. “I’ve realized a lot of things recently, and that is the biggest of them all. You never did anything to deserve the hell we put you through.”
I want to ask why they did it, but Dom’s phone buzzes with a message. He goes to where he left it in his bag, pulls it out, and frowns.
He looks at us. “Um. It seems my stepmother-to-be and my father want to invite us all to dinner.”
“All of us?” Tino asks. “Shit, do you think they know?”
“No.” Dom shakes his head. “Nataniele would lose his ever-loving mind. He knows you’re my friends, though, and he knows we’re tight with Duchess now. Maybe he thinks one of us is with her. I doubt he imagines all three of us are.”
“Can you imagine?” Kirill bursts out laughing.
I don’t because I can imagine. Nataniele is more observant than his son gives him credit for.
