At the last minute, he turned his head and bit the inside of my thigh. I squealed in surprise, then in pain as he closed his teeth harder over the spot. I hissed in a breath and clutched convulsively at his head.
As I was about to scream, he released the spot and turned his head so he could give me a twin bite on the other thigh. I smacked his face, but I couldn’t yank away. It felt like he might bite the chunk of flesh right off if I moved too quickly.
I couldn’t decide which side hurt worse, and I was sobbing by the time he stopped, but he was still holding me wide open for whatever attack came next. I tried to curl in on myself, but the best I could do was slap a protective hand over my clit.
“No more! No more, please! If you bite me there, my clit will come right off.”
He pried my hand away.
“No! Please, Ilya!”
“Don’t you want to feel my teeth on the tenderest parts of this beautiful body?” He bared his teeth in a feral grin, and it surprised me they weren’t covered in blood. He’d bitten my thighs so hard my head was still swimming from the pain.
“No!”
“No? That’s too bad.” He pushed his face between my legs and bit down on one of my labia, but nowhere near as hard as he’d done to my thigh. I shrieked and smacked the top of his head, trying to push him away, but he was undeterred. He bit again and again, making me think of vampires or maybe werewolves devouring me.
I struggled in his arms but could only do so much for fear of the damage I might do trying to tear delicate parts of me out from between his teeth. When his mouth came down over my clit, I shrieked in fear, bucking, catching him in the chin with my pubic bone. His mouth fastened down over me, and he sucked, his tongue doing devilish things, his teeth sharp, not biting, but too close. A layer of sweat covered my skin—fear and arousal and confusion buzzing between my ears. Did I trust this man?
His curious fingers investigated, learning how turned on I was despite my anxiety. He plunged a finger into me, then a second, thrusting in and out of my hot, needy pussy.
I clenched my teeth against his onslaught, the delicious tugging pressure of his mouth, his fingers curved upward, searching. He found my g-spot, damn him, and I felt as if my tongue was going to fall down the back of my throat, as he hummed in delight, the vibration so perfect that all I could do was whimper. Stubbornly, I fought the orgasm, but he was winning no matter what I did.
I opened my mouth to scream, and my back bucked, arching. A cock slammed into my mouth, muffling my scream, and then someone was fucking it—Bron? It had to be him because the torture between my legs didn’t stop. I squirmed on Ilya’s tongue and choked on Bron’s dick, surrounded and trapped by hard male bodies. I could feel Bron’s cock swelling, but he jerked away at the last moment. Our gazes met, and he gave me a wolfish grin, backing away even though his cock was so hard it was bobbing in protest. I didn’t have time to think about what his expression meant because Ilya had stilled above me, letting my impending orgasm ebb.
I screamed incoherently, trying to kick him into action, but more than willing to finish myself off if he wanted to play games. He laughed aloud, then the sound cut off abruptly.
“Bron, no!” Ilya gasped.
“I told the two of you to strip, but one of you is still wearing pants.”
I heard Ilya’s belt buckle hit the floor and Bron forcibly shucked off Ilya’s pants and tossed them aside.
Bron spat, and Ilya’s gaze widened. He looked at me like there was something I could do about what was about to happen to him.
I could feel Ilya bracing himself, and I watched his expressions with a mixture of arousal and sympathy as Bron pushed into his ass.
I slid out from underneath him, wanting to watch, but feeling guilty about it. Then again, Bron’s victim had just deprived me of a spectacular orgasm, so I hardened my heart to his suffering.
He grimaced in discomfort, teeth gritted, breath labored. The tendons in his neck stood out with the strain of accommodating his tormentor’s obnoxiously large cock.
“That’s a good boy. Stop fighting me.”
“Bron, it’s not supposed to be like this anymore.” He gasped.
“It will always be like this, Ilyusha. You will always belong to me, no matter who belongs to you. Even if we part ways—even if you get married and have ten brats running around—one day you will see me on the street and you will follow me wherever I lead. You will let me into your body because you know who you belong to.”
Ilya’s fists were curled as though he were angry, but a tear trickled from his eye and slid over the bridge of his nose.
When Bron was deep inside him, hips flush with Ilya’s ass, he folded over him, skin to skin, mouth brushing his ear with infinite tenderness. His expression was so full of regret and pain it broke my heart. He loved Ilya and wouldn’t admit it to himself, let alone to the man who knew him better than anyone.
How could Vas rip this away from them? It wasn’t fair.
I crawled closer, ducking under Ilya to run my tongue along his cock. He gasped, and Bron’s hand came down to block what I was doing. I dodged him, licking his fingers almost as often as I reached Ilya’s cock, and eventually he wrapped his hand around it to keep me away. Ilya gasped in surprise and shuddered above me. For a moment, the hand stalled as though Bron had abruptly realized what he’d done, but then he stroked him with sure, unhurried movements. I licked the head of Ilya’s cock, then managed to get it into my mouth, vying with Bron for real estate, sucking until Ilya gave a ragged cry and flooded my mouth with cum. I sucked and swallowed until he was empty, then crawled out from underneath him to watch as Bron kept stroking his cock, making him twitch and swear, bucking under him until Bron groaned, and his hips lost their rhythm. I watched as he came, and my body shuddering with jealous need. They were absolutely gorgeous together, and I wished I dared to grab Bron’s phone and take some pictures for myself for later.
As Bron slowed to a stop, they stayed locked together, Bron’s body surrounding Ilya’s, the layers of muscle pressed together almost baffling to the eye. I crawled closer and kissed Bron. I half expected him to pull away at the taste Ilya had left in my mouth, but his tongue invaded, exploring and curious.
“Did we leave you desperate, De-li-lah?”
I nodded sulkily.
He pulled out of Ilya and flipped him over, then moved me over Ilya’s face.
Without hesitation, Ilya growled and pulled me down tighter against his mouth.
“No, I—” My words stalled as Ilya shamelessly devoured my pussy.
Before I fell over, Bron moved up behind me and lowered me to brace on my hands, my thighs spread so wide that Ilya could get at anything he wanted with his wicked mouth. Fingers explored me from behind, groping my ass, pushed deep into my pussy. Bron ran his lips down my spine, following that track to the cleft of my ass. His tongue darted out, stroking between my pussy and asshole, bumping into Ilya’s fingers. I trembled, my orgasm already so close, the pressure inside me so intense I could cry. The fingers in my pussy found a ragged rhythm, and Bron’s tongue drifted upward, exploring my ass cleft and bumping over my back hole.
Their hands and mouths were everywhere, reminding me of being blindfolded at the club. Bron’s hand rested on my mid-back, his thumb on my spine, and my belly quivered with the possessive feel of it.
Bron pulled away and bit my ass cheek, then spread me apart and blew a cool stream of air over my damp flesh. His gaze was invasive. I felt inspected. It was hot as hell.
“Are you going to come on his tongue, my little whore? I want to watch your holes clench when you come.”
I rocked against Ilya’s mouth, torturing myself, forcing my orgasm down, edging myself with his tongue. My miserable whimpers filled the room, and the tightness in my belly had spread to all my muscles.
Bron’s tongue swept over my asshole once more and I stopped moving, unable to do anything but feel their mouths and attention completely focused on me. The first flutter of my orgasm was so tight it hurt in the most delicious way, followed by a long pause before an earth-shattering convulsion. Ilya groaned in satisfaction, the vibration making me squeal in protest as I got off so hard it felt like I was turning inside out.
“Good girl,” Bron crooned, his fingers exploring where my muscles twitched and shuddered. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
When my orgasm and the worst of the aftershocks finally abated, Bron picked me up and laid me on top of Ilya, then lowered himself to lie beside us on the carpet. Both men were looking at me, but I was too limp and tired to feel self-conscious.
Ilya’s cock twitched, and I realized he was hard again.
“Ilya, no.”
The sound he made was almost a purr. “Wifey, yes.”
Men.
*