Their Private Need (Death Lords MC 3)

Chapter Eight

Annie

Michigan and Easy exchange glances over my head. I think it’s about Father, but I’m not certain. There’s a lot in my head that I’m not certain about other than I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t want to leave these two. Their interest in me might burn out by morning, but for now I’m wearing Easy’s claiming cuff and I’m lying in Michigan’s bed. Their eyes are burning holes in my body and their heavy penises are waving in the air.

I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of sensation I would feel at their hands. It was more than I could have ever imagined.

Michigan’s salty taste still lingers on my tongue and I wonder how Easy tastes. I wonder how it will feel when it’s more than their fingers inside me. I wonder what it will be like when they’re both inside me and how that is even possible. The images of the other night at the granary flick through my mind. That girl was on her knees with the man’s penis in her mouth and the other one inside her private area. Tonight it was me full of Michigan in my mouth and Easy’s fingers inside me and it was heavenly.

I want more of that. I suppose that makes me wrong and depraved but I’ve been hiding these cravings for a long time. It doesn’t seem sinful to give in to them because surely nothing this beautiful, this good, could ever be entirely wrong.

Easy disappears for a moment and then reenters the room carrying a kitchen chair. He situates it near the bed and then settles in, one hand on his very big penis, the other lying palm up on his thigh.

Michigan advances on the bed with a couple of pieces of paper.

“What’s this?” I ask looking at the sheets. One is labeled with the name Van Eric Beasley and the other is Timothy Davis and they appear to be lab results with the single wordnegative running down the right column.

“These are blood tests to show you that we’re clean,” Michigan says. “I’m Tim and that bastard is Van.”

“Oh.” I blink at him. “Should I have gotten one too?”

“Nah. We know you’re clean but you’re not on the pill, right? We’ll use condoms until you go on the pill. We just wanted you to know you’re safe with us.”

I bite my lip and feel myself redden but this time from embarrassment. I can’t believe we’re talking about this but I guess it’s safe sex, a conversation I’ve never had with anyone. During the fifth grade health discussion on sex, Father had me pulled from class so I wouldn’t be exposed to the sinful culture of the nonbelievers. “I’m actually on the pill. My periods are painful and irregular without it.”

Michigan’s hand crumples the papers and even Easy, who appears lighthearted most of the time, sucks in a breath.

“You okay with no condoms then?” Michigan’s voice is strained.

I nod shyly and tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

Michigan’s head hangs down for a moment as if the weight of what I’ve said is too much for him to handle. Finally he raises his eyes and I swear there is a tiny sheen to them. Without turning to Easy, he says, “Man, I was wrong and you were right. This woman’s perfect for us.”

Easy slaps a hand against his thigh and cackles. “Annie, mark this down. Michigan never admits to being wrong about anything. This is a real occasion. I think you’ve broken him.”

“Fuck off,” Michigan says but there’s a hint of a smile playing around his lips.

All laughter dies off when he reaches for me. Tenderness is on his face and in his touch. He runs his hands over my body from shoulder to toes, again and again, until I’m wholly relaxed yet aroused at the same time. These men know how to extract dozens of sensations I didn’t even know my body was capable of producing.

Finally he lifts my bare arm and fits another wide etched cuff around my wrist. This one doesn’t have a silver clasp like Easy’s. Instead, it has a miniature buckle, a slim metal half circle, a big letter M and the Death Lords’ logo.

He raises my wrist to his mouth and presses a kiss against the big vein running down my wrist and than a second kiss against the leather. Easy appears on my other side and picks up my other wrist.

He pushes my Easy cuff toward my new Michgan cuff and suddenly my wrists are linked together. The cuffs were mirrors of each other and hidden magnets keep the cuffs together if I want. Side by side the words Death Lords starts on one cuff and then the other. The magnets are surprisingly strong but I can pull my wrists apart if I give I twist quick and hard.

“We’re claiming you, Little Red. You’re ours as long as you wear these cuffs. Your mouth is ours to kiss, your sweet cunt is ours to fuck, and your body is ours to possess.”

The words of ownership should have made me retreat but instead I open my body to welcome their possession. Excitement captures me. All I want is for them to deliver on all the promises they’ve made.

Michigan’s mouth treks its way up and down my torso, down my legs and then up again to stop at my center. His finger slides in to test me like the girl at the granary.

“I’m ready,” I say. My words are barely more than a moan.

“Yeah, you are,” he responds. He takes himself in hand and positions the purplish head between my legs, the spot that is pulsing as if it has a direct line from my heart. He pushes in slow and gentle but his penis is bigger than even Easy’s three fingers. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

“But you’re so big,” I can’t help complaining.

To my side, I hear Easy laugh from the chair he’s settled back into. “You’re going to make him bigger if you keep up that kind of talk.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Michigan replies. “Your body is made for this, for me, for us. Just relax.” He leans down and kisses me and I’m reminded how different they are. Michigan tastes like rain on a hot summer day. It’s warm inside your mouth but tastes fresh somehow. Easy tastes like mint sunshine, bright and tingly. As he kisses me, he pushes forward and surprisingly he’s right. My body does adjust. I can feel my tissues stretching and there isn’t any pain, not like when he first slid a finger inside. This is more like an ache.

“That’s it. You’re doing so good, Little Red.” Easy whispers hoarse encouragement from his chair. I glance over and see his glittery eyes roving everywhere, over Michigan’s entry between my legs, his dark head on my breasts, my face. He takes everything in. His hand is fisted around his thick penis, the head of it is dusky red. I watch as his large hand engulfs his penis and then lowers to the base only to rise and squeeze the top.

The distraction of Easy pleasuring himself ignites my own passion and I stretch wide enough to take Michigan in all the way to the root.

“You okay?” Michigan rasps.

I nod, dry-mouthed and anxious but he moves so slow as he retreats and even slower still as he reenters

me. There’s still not pain and I relax, smiling for the first time.

“Yes, I’m okay. It feels…full.”

“But no pain?”

“No, no pain.”

“Good.” He grits his teeth and this time his thrust forward has power. I felt a jolt travel from between my legs up to my eyelids.

“Oh my God,” I squeak.

“Shit. What? Did I hurt you?” He pulls out almost all the way and Easy rushes over, abandoning his activity.

“No,” I laugh softly. If I needed reassurance this is it. These two would never allow harm to come to me, not through their hands or anyone else’s. “No, nothing hurt. It just felt really good.”

I tug Michigan by his shoulders back down to me, taking the initiative for the first time. The leather rubs across his skin, weighing down my wrists.

“Make me feel good again,” I whisper with more courage than I thought I had in me. Michigan’s eyes flare and Easy laughs huskily while retaking his chair.

“I never want to hurt you.” Michigan’s voice vibrates with emotion and I realize I’m not the only one who needs encouragement.

“I know, baby.” I test out the endearment. His response is a broad, wonderful smile. I can tell he doesn’t often smile and I’m blown away by its beauty and sincerity. “Take me,” I plead.

“I will.” The husky promise sends shivers down my spine.

He pushes back inside me and this time I close my eyes and savor the sensation. His hair-roughened legs scrape the insides of my thighs. His chest rubs against my tender peaks. One hand is clamped around my hips while the other braces his entire body above me.

Inside, I can feel the individual ridges of his penis as he shuttles in and out of my body. The dark eroticism of being taken by this man while being watched by another builds an excitement inside me I can’t contain. I clutch Michigan to me, clinging like a wet leaf to his frame as he plunges into me again and again. Each pass seems to hit new nerve endings, new pleasure portals. I can’t catch my breath. Michigan is taking it all from me until he lowers his mouth over mine and gives me life again.