INKED 8: A Tattoo Shop Reverse Harem

"That was…" someone says, not finishing their sentence but leaving behind a sense of awe in their tone.

"It was," I whisper as Noah brings his lips to mine, kissing with passion and happiness.

I'm rolled onto my back, sprawled out like a starfish, and in a flash, Carl is between my legs. His hand rubs the fleshy part of my hip, that harsh palm searching out willing skin. If we were alone, I know he'd turn me over and tell me I've been a bad girl. He'd make my ass pink and my lips tremble before he'd make me come. But we're not alone. We're surrounded.

Instead of spanking, his fingers grip my flesh harshly, his tongue circling the shell of my ear. "You like fucking my friends?" he asks, sounding angry.

"Yes," I gasp as his cock pushes an inch inside me.

"You like it when two men fuck you at the same time?"

"Yes," I whisper, the shame and the arousal heating my cheeks.

Gripping even harder, he yanks my hips so that he's buried deep. I stare up into his icy blue eyes, not knowing if he's really mad or if this is part of the game. "This body," he hisses through gritted teeth. "This body is ours to use, ours to tease, ours to please."

"Yes," I say.

"This body is ours to chain. Ours to punish. Ours to soothe."

"Yes," I agree again.

Because it is. I've surrendered to them. I belong to them.

Carl fucks into me so hard that I'm shunted up the bed until my head tips over the edge of the mattress. I look up into Niall's soft eyes, my gaze drifting down his tanned, ripped torso to the cock he's gripping like a weapon. It's so hard it looks almost painful. Carl's hand rests over my throat, his thumb sliding into my mouth. "You see this mouth," he growls. "This mouth is for our pleasure. Use it."

Niall takes a moment to react, but he follows Carl's fierce instruction, bending his knees to bring his cock to my lips. It's an awkward angle, the top of his cock sliding over my tongue, but I manage it. My body is stretched, my breasts angled high, nipples tight and ready for the fingertips of whoever is closest. Carl's hand remains on my throat, as though he wants to feel Niall there and witness an aspect of the experience for himself. Or maybe it's a possessive thing? He offered my mouth to Niall, and by holding me, he's asserting his ownership of that part of me.

My mind spins, aware but unaware. My eyes flutter and snapshots of the room around me, the men moving in and out of my vision, enter my consciousness like old-fashioned flicker movies. Nothing feels real. Even my body feels disconnected, the pleasure I'm feeling so distant. It's as though everything is happening to someone else. The perfect me. The one who's brave enough to seize the day and experience life through the you-only-live-once mantra.

The other me is different. Cautious. Controlled. Shy. Worried that I'll be a disappointment.

This game, this experience, hasn't made me into something I'm not. It's split me into two warring essences and left me unsure which is the real me.

When Niall is close, he pulls out and comes in his fist, and I watch it all like a voyeur, a bystander, not the person responsible for the pleasure that drives his jerky movements and the relief in his face when he's done.

Carl isn't far behind, his cock jerking inside me as his thumb brushes my clit, once, twice, three times, and I'm lost, spinning and whirling, lights flashing and heart banging so hard against my ribcage that it feels as though it could shatter.

Lips find mine, kissing softly. Hand stroke my body, focusing on places like my arms and legs, my fingers, and my ankles. I keep my eyes closed, needing the solitude and worrying that if I catch anyone's gaze, I might break open.

Eventually, Carl leaves the cradle of my thighs, and another voice begins to whisper in my ear.

"Have you had enough, Kyla?" It's Dex. I know his touch, his scent, the husk in his voice. He's the one who started the game, so it seems fitting that he'd be the one to end it too. "If you've had enough, that's okay. I can take you home and tuck you in. If you need water, we can fetch it. If you need food, Lex can rustle you something up." I hear the smile in his voice, and my lips draw into a reluctant smile. "Is he seriously the only one who can cook?" I ask.

"Lex cooks. The rest of us eat. It's the perfect arrangement," Noah says from somewhere in the room. They're all still there, watching, waiting. They're around me and inside me. In my pussy and in my heart. They're buried so deep in my mind that I don't know up from down, left from right, front from back. Have I had enough? It's a question I can't answer. Nothing will be enough, but what I've had is too much.