He loosens his grip from my chin, his rough fingertips rasping across the line of my jaw. I moan softly into the kiss, tears welling in my closed eyes at the irony in the reverence of his touch for just a moment before the guilt starts to eat at me. I begin to question how I can turn myself over so easily to another man—regardless of circumstances, regardless of the bindings holding me hostage—when Anderson has been it for me for over fifteen years. I start to drown in the thought when I feel a finger trace the swollen flesh between my thighs.
I yelp, startled and unnerved that this person who I’m told likes to watch, now appears to like to touch too. And my head is so messed up with everything that I don’t think properly, his unexpected touch pulls my thoughts and my mouth from our kiss. I try to scoot closer to the man in front of me. It’s almost as if I’m looking toward the man who brought me here to protect me from the threat I feel of Marco at my back. A hand lands sharply on my ass in reprimand. This time the force is much harder than before and the sting is sharp and distinct beneath his resting palm.
Hands suddenly frame my face as my captor kisses me again, but this time with a commanding desperation. His tongue delves, teeth nip, and mouth takes more from me. All the while Marco slides his hands back and forth over my backside. I try and concentrate on the movement over my still singing flesh, but my mind is overwhelmed from the claim being staked on my mouth.
Marco’s fingertips move—two fingers paralleling each other—sliding down the curve of my ass to the tops of my thighs. They stop and slide inward until I can feel them trace over the moisture at my entrance. My body tenses, my mind having trouble which sensation to focus on.
My captor relents his possession of my mouth, and I suck in a breath of air trying to gain some semblance of balance. And the few seconds I have to do just that are stolen when I feel the head of his dick press between my parted lips the same time as Marco slides his fingers into me. I gasp out at the feeling and his dick slips farther into my mouth predicated by his carnal groan from above me.
My mind flashes to the thoughts I had previously of biting him if he tried this. How he taunted me, told me I’d beg for this. His taste fills my mouth as he presses deeper into me, hitting the back of my throat before pulling slowly back out.
My captor’s hand fists my hair, holding my head still as he fucks my mouth while Marco’s hand grips the flesh on my hips and fingers me in a matching rhythm. My body rides this libidinous high as I’m worked into a frenzy, the sound of pleasure emanating from both men filling the room along with the slick sounds of my sex being worked.
I’m breathless, overwhelmed, and underequipped to process the onslaught of sensations wracking through my body. My thighs tremble above where my knees are pressed into the bed, and my hands are desperate for the freedom to grip his shaft. The men continue their ministrations, pleasure increasing and my body falling under the spell of unwanted desire. I feel him swell and harden to steel in my mouth, and he suddenly withdraws, the bed dipping as he drops down in front of me. His mouth on mine again momentarily as Marco’s fingers stop moving but remain idly inside of me.
My captor pulls back from my lips again as I adjust my hips to try and ease the need anchoring me. I can feel his breath on my face as if he’s staring at me, and I can’t shake the feeling that he’s trying to tell me something even though I can’t see his eyes. He shifts, the bed sways, and his finger trails from my shoulder and down my spine in that way he has as he maneuvers himself behind me.
I suck in a breath, my conflicting emotions raging inside of me, and I can’t help but tuck my hips forward as anticipation suffocates the air around me. His fingertip stops and presses at the top of my tailbone, and a low hum of approval sounds in the back of his throat. Feet shuffle, Marco’s fingers withdraw from my wetness, and words are spoken softly between the two men that I wouldn’t understand even if I could hear them.
Two hands grip either side of my hips, my breath quickening and possibilities flickering through my mind. He spreads me apart and cool air comingles with the pooling moisture. “You want this don’t you, bella Lilly? Look at your pussy quiver and ass pucker in anticipation. Fuck that’s sexy. Makes me want to claim every single part of you,” he says as one hand releases my hip and his finger trails back down over every inch of skin to my clit and then back up.
I hear the click of a bottle and startle as I feel the cool liquid pour over me. My body vibrates with arousal and fear—of another thing that I’ve always wanted to try—and I bow my head and wait. I feel fingers spread the lubricant up and down the seam of my core and then stop. My breath shudders and my nipples tighten instantly when I feel the tip of his finger press against my tight rim and into me. My muscles fight to reject him and the slight discomfort his entrance brings, but he just holds still, allowing me to adjust.
“Ahhh,” he sighs as I feel like my breath has been robbed. After a moment he starts to move his finger slowly in and out, soft noises of appreciation emanating from behind me as I talk myself into relaxing. “I need to prepare you, bella. Open you up. And then you’re going to get fucked. Have you ever been filled? Have you ever felt two cocks moving inside of you? Rubbing against one another as they make you come?”
I moan out at the dark promise of his words and at the slight sting as he pulls out and pushes two fingers into me to stretch me farther. I’m just about used to the feeling when the head of his dick rests against the entrance to my sex, taunting me with possibilities of what’s to come. He leaves it resting there—a tantalizing torture for me to crave—before he begins to move his fingers again at a faster pace.
My head hangs down, my hair tickling my cheeks as it falls over the blindfold, and I absorb everything that’s being awakened within me. I’m not sure what I expected, but I don’t feel much, and then when he thrusts his cock into my pussy and his fingers begin to move again, two worlds of sensations crash together. His forward movements push his fingers in farther and the hum in the back of my throat involuntarily comes out as my muscles begin to loosen and accept.
He rides me in a slow and steady cadence that allows me to feel every ridge of his crest as he slides in and back against my slick walls. I lose myself—my thoughts, my guilt, my resistance—in the calming rhythm of his body owning mine. My breasts jostle forward each time his hips connect with the backs of my thighs and urges the ache to burn a little stronger, a little deeper.
His other hand smooths across my ass, but it’s the feel of a pointed tip of an object firm yet soft that pulls my mind from the haze of mounting pleasure. He runs the object slowly over one side of my buttocks and then rolls it across my lower back so I can feel the unmistakable shape of the plug before he continues down the other side. He then glides the point slowly up between my legs and around his cock and fingers buried within me, a taunting foreplay of what comes next.
My captor continues to trace imaginary lines with the plug over and over, my mind becoming so used to the feeling, the heightened awareness of its course that I begin to fall back under the rhythm of my building orgasm. And it’s when I do this, when I allow myself to succumb to the barrage of sensation within caused by his skillful cock, that he pulls his fingers out and pushes the plug inside of me. Because it’s a little larger, a little harder, it causes the abundance of nerves there to sing in resistance for a moment.
My body tenses at the lasting burn, earning me a tsk from him. “Relax. Don’t fight it, bella.” He stills his hips and presses the plug in even farther until it fits within my rim and my muscles flex around it. My eyes sting from the quick sear of pain, but before I can wriggle my hips away from him, his hands dig into the curves of my ass and squeeze possessively as he slams into me, the slap of skin on skin a mix with his guttural groan. I forget that there is someone else in the room, forget the threat to find pleasure and enjoy, because that option was a forgone conclusion the minute he thrust inside of me.