Room Eight - Page 23

SAPPHIRE

All three men stand in front of me. Soft light cascades over us from an elegant crystal chandelier and the shadow play is just right.

Their deeply tan skin is covered in ample amounts of tattoos in various swirls of ink in almost every shade of color known to man. Arms, shoulders, and a few sprinkled across the lower abdomen. I bet when they turn around, I’ll find it covered in ink too.

And then the light glints of raised skin and I see them tucked beneath all the ink.

Scars. Lots of them.

They don’t try to hide them but you can tell from the stone-cold stares they are not here to talk about how those puckered raised slashes across their thighs and arms came to pass.

Another time, I remind myself. I’m here to get pregnant.

Their bodies radiate heat the closer they get.

“Like what you see,” Lev growls into my lips. He’s stroking his cock in easy glides of his hand. Those tatted fingers against such hard steel remind me he’s flesh and blood but ruthless in getting what he wants too.

“Maybe, I might need to see more of you before I decide. Test the product, you know,” I tease mercilessly.

Lev’s growl is animalistic. “Mouthy. I’m going to love feeding you every inch and shutting you up.”

I don’t do it consciously, but the second he’s on me I curl my fingers around his shaft and move up and down. The hot weight of his cock in my hand has me eager to feel him with other parts of my body.

He takes my face in the palms of his hands and kisses me with a possessive hunger, his tongue demanding and greedy. Hard enough to bruise my lips in the most delicious way.

And I kiss him right back. Tongues tangle and our bodies bend and mold together–his larger one against my smaller frame.

Lev breaks away and chuckles darkly. “Grip me baby just like that. Harder even. It’s all yours. Every last inch of my cock is all yours, malyshka.”

“You’re hungry for our cocks,” Gregor teases and his words cause a jolt of electricity to shoot through me to ping against my clit like a radar detector.

“You make us weak when we should be strong.”

Elyah abruptly pulls me away from his friends and into his arms.

“Asshole,” they say with no venom in their tone.

Elyah pauses and presses his forehead against mine. “I don’t want to need you but I have a feeling none of us are leaving this room unscathed.” His breaths are choppy and his words are cool and clipped.

“Is that a bad thing? Wanting me?” I ask, not sure I want the answer. I can feel the ridge of his hard cock against my quivering stomach.

“I don’t know.”

The sincerity of his words rings in my ears.

“But whatever force is gravitating us together is stronger than I am, stronger than all of us.”

Elyah stops talking and takes my hand in his. Using his fingers to guide mine, he wraps my fingers around his pulsing girth jutting upward as though eager for my attention. Who am I to deny a man his pleasure?

He’s so damn hard and heavy in my hand. Adrenaline courses through me and the feel of his pre-cum spilling over my fingers makes me wetter.

His head falls back and the groan of masculine pleasure that comes from his mouth causes goosebumps to flush across my heated skin.

Their eyes caress over the swell of my breasts, the dip, and rise of my hips and womanly curves. This is as filthy as it is perverse, and I love it.

I don’t ask for permission and wait for no instructions. My body shivers as I slip to my knees and gingerly lean in to pass my tongue over the swollen head of Elyah’s cock.

“Moya kroshka, your tongue is pure fire.” His fingers slide into my hair.

With Lev and Gregor to either side of me, I watch as both men stroke their shafts from base to tip as I suck their friend to the back of my throat. Right this second at least one of my fantasies has come true. To see them like this, aroused and desiring me.

Using all the knowledge I have of giving men pleasure—which is zilch—I sink over him and roll his heavy balls in the palm of my hand.

At least that is what Belle says makes her men weak in the knees.

Gregor takes his other hand and moves it to the back of my head. He guides me as I suck his friend. And right when I can’t take anymore, he coaches me on how to deep throat Elyah’s massive size.

“Take more of him, beautiful. Open wide and swallow when you feel him get to the back of your throat.”

Elyah breaks out into a string of Russian I have no chance of understanding as I follow Gregor’s orders.

The rumbled words come out rushed and dipped in a bath of fire and lust. I moan for it and stretch my mouth wide…wider. I taste his sweet pre-cum and as he eases from my mouth only to dip in again, this time harder and faster. I hollow my cheeks around him and feel the pulse of his shaft as Gregor’s hand tightens in my hair.

And then suddenly I am plucked off the floor and placed at the edge of a bed with three men surrounding me, their intentions clear. They do not want a lot of foreplay.

“I am going to eat every bit of your pussy while you slide those beautiful thighs open and place those pretty feet on my shoulders. The taste test earlier was brief and not nearly enough for me.”

I draw in a surprised breath and Lev’s confession. “Then by all means.” I lay back and plant my feet on the bed and let my legs fall open butterfly style.

“Bring her up here.”

I turn to see Elyah spread across the head of the bed, his cock rock hard and his hand stroking every thick inch of his arousal. He is a picture of perfection. Others might see him and think the scars and ink ruin the view, but to me, he’s everything I’ve wanted.

Gregor sweeps me up, holds me against his chest, and carries me like a bride to the top of the bed. He rubs the tips of our noses together before depositing me on his friend’s face.

“Spread, beautiful. Elyah wants to taste you. Good girl,” he growls when I comply.

There’s nothing for me to hang onto except Lev who comes to stand at the edge above Elyah’s head. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him to me for support.

The man face planted between my legs pulls me to where he wants me positioned and my body follows his lead.

Part of me can’t believe I am kneeling over the face of the Southern Alliance’s leader. The other half wants to know the logistics.

Can he breathe? Should I worry if he can breathe? What if I kill him? Death by pussy. God, is that a thing? Would runners be sent out to collect on my death for killing their leader? Because he suffocated eating me out?

Worse yet. Would I keep the Alliance as mine if he died?

That would make me queen.

My runaway thoughts are shattered at the first swipe of Elyah’s tongue over my dripping slit. Strong fingers dig into the tender flesh of my ass cheeks and hold me still when I begin to ride his face. He’s not worried about leaving bruises. But that tongue of his swirls, dips, and slides with expert precision to have me panting.

“Elyah, I’m too sensitive,” I whimper, but I am ignored.

His tongue is fast and wicked against my flesh.

Tags: Penelope Wylde Erotic
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