Chapter 32 Willow #2
The quiet hiss of a zipper fills the space, and a moment later, Ransom steps up behind me, one hand on my hip as he guides himself to my entrance. When he starts to push in, I let out a low, guttural sound.
“I know Malice really gave it to you,” he croons, running a hand soothingly down my back. “So I’ll take it easy. I’ll make you feel so good.”
I nod, or try to. My hair is falling around my face, blood rushing to my head and making it hard to focus. If I had the words, I would tell him that everything they do to me feels good, but I don’t. So I just moan softly as he starts to fuck me with slow, even strokes.
“There you go,” he encourages, the piercings on his cock sliding against my walls as he drags out and presses back in. “Fuck, I’ve been dying to be inside you all night.”
My body is on fire with sensation, and if it wasn’t for his hands on my hips, I would definitely already have fallen over.
The heavy thump of the bass is a distant sound, and I can barely remember that we’re only yards away from hundreds of people drinking and talking and dancing out in the main part of the club.
Nothing else exists but what’s happening in this little room, the four of us locked in a bubble that nothing can penetrate.
“I can… take more,” I gasp out, bumping my ass against Ransom a little.
I know he’s trying to take care of me, but whether they meant to or not, the Voronin brothers have taught me to crave pain in almost the same way I crave pleasure. One heightens the other.
“Fuck, pretty girl,” he grits out. “You’re too fucking good.”
He picks up his pace, no longer holding back as much. It’s hard to stay upright as he starts driving into me more forcefully, but my fingers grip my ankles tighter, and I try to breathe through the pleasure, holding on for dear life.
“Goddamn,” Ransom mutters under his breath. “So tight. So wet. So perfect. Our perfect little angel.”
A second orgasm is building in me, faster than the first, already moving through my veins with the speed of honey warmed up over a fire, just as sweet and all-consuming. Ransom doesn’t slow down or let up, and I start to go tighter around him, my body tensing as pleasure threatens to overtake me.
“Rans—” I manage to gasp out. “I’m—”
“That’s it,” he urges. “Come on, angel. Let us see how fucking beautiful you are when you’re falling apart.”
I whimper at his words, and it only takes another couple of strokes before the tight ball of pleasure gathering low in my belly explodes outward.
My brain whites out, everything going fuzzy and unclear as the orgasm takes over. Ransom keeps fucking me, chasing his own release, and the feeling of him spilling into my oversensitive pussy makes my body clench.
I’m panting for breath when he finally pulls out and helps me stand up straight, and my legs feel like they could give out at any moment. When he wraps his arms around me from behind, I melt into his touch, feeling the warm trickle of his cum as it joins the mess that smears my thighs.
“Beautiful,” Ransom breathes, murmuring right in my ear. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this. There’s nothing better in the whole damn world.”
I’m exhausted and worn out, completely satisfied… and also not, somehow. Because there’s still something missing. Without consciously thinking about it, I glance over at Victor, and even though Ransom can’t see what’s in my expression, he must be able to guess.
He turns us a little so that we’re facing Victor more fully, still holding me loosely in his arms as he addresses his brother.
“Hey, Vic. You told me one time that you only jerk off on certain days of the week. Is that still true?”
Vic’s gaze darts from me to Ransom, and then back to me. “Yes.”
“Is today one of those days?”
“Yes.”
Ransom’s lips find my ear, and although he pitches his voice a little lower on the next words, I know Vic can still hear them. “Why don’t you ask him if he’s already taken care of himself today, angel?”
My heart pounds a little harder, and silence fills the bathroom for a long moment as I lock eyes with Vic, who stares right back at me.
“Have you?” I whisper.
“Have I what?” His voice is so strained it’s almost unrecognizable.
“Have you jerked off today?” The question comes out easier than I would have expected—maybe because I’m finally getting better at dirty talk, or maybe because I’m just so desperate to know the answer.
Vic’s tongue darts out to lick his lips, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. “No. I haven’t.”
“Do you want to?”
Another pause, then he nods. “Yes.”
“I want to see,” I whisper, barely daring to say the words.
The room goes quiet for another interminable beat, and I swear the thundering of my heart is louder than the beat of the music from outside the room.
I have no idea if he’ll say yes, no idea if this will undo all the progress the two of us have made.
It could send him retreating back into himself… but I feel like I have to try.
I have to let him know that I want him.
“What if you help him out?” Ransom murmurs, his nose brushing my ear. “Give him something to jerk off to. Show him what he wants, what he’s been craving so bad. Let him see you.”
I don’t know quite what Ransom has in mind, but I nod anyway, my gaze still locked on Vic.
Ransom kisses my ear, then glances over, sharing a look with Malice. The tattooed man steps forward, and together, the two of them lift me up onto the sink. I shiver as the cool, smooth surface touches my bare ass.
Then Malice and Ransom each grip one of my legs and spread me open, their fingers locked around my knees.
I squirm a little, not really trying to close my legs but more just testing their grips, and Ransom grins at me, his thumb brushing the inside of my knee.
I’m held open, everything on display for Vic.
My pussy is still pink and clearly used, smeared with my own arousal and the remnants of Malice’s and Ransom’s cum.
I feel filthy and depraved, but also strangely powerful as Victor stares at me, his gaze tracking over my body before landing at the spot between my legs. He reaches down to palm himself through his pants, gripping his cock tightly, and the sight makes my breath catch.
“Please, Vic,” I whisper, gripping the edge of the sink. “You’ve watched me so many times. Now I want to see you. I want you to finish… on me.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. His jaw is tight, every muscle in his body taut.
Then he steps closer, a hungry look passing over his features, edging out anything neutral or blank in his expression. His nostrils flare with each sharp inhale, and when he reaches me, he comes to a stop less than a foot away.
No one speaks as his hands fumble at his fly, and when he shoves his pants down enough to pull his cock out, it’s already hard and flushed, the tip wet with precum. Proof that he’s been turned on this whole time, watching his brothers fuck me.
My body aches for him, and I want to touch him or something, but I keep my hands to myself, watching intently as he starts to stroke himself.
It’s careful and deliberate, just like it was the only other time I’ve seen him do this, as if he’s gotten it down to a science.
He can’t seem to settle on where to look as he jerks himself off with quick, efficient movements. His eyes roam over my face and body, tracking over my scars before returning to the spot where cum leaks from my core.
His breath gets faster, the muscles in his cheeks jumping as he clenches his jaw rhythmically, and when he moves even closer, my breath seizes in my chest.
For a moment, I wonder if he’s about to slide into me and fuck me right here.
But he doesn’t.
He gets close enough that I can feel the heat of him, that I can smell the mixture of arousal and his own natural scent. The head of his cock is just an inch away from my pussy, but I don’t try to get closer.
Instead, I just watch, almost transfixed, as his fist moves over his shaft.
With a low, ragged grunt, he starts to move faster, thrusting into his own hand a little. Each push of his hips brings him that much closer to me, and even though we never touch, I can feel the connection burning between us, fierce and overwhelming.
He curses, his rhythm faltering in a way that makes me think he’s close to the edge, and I swear my heart stops beating in anticipation.
“Please,” I breathe. “Please, Vic. Give it to me.”
His body jerks like he’s been hit from behind, and a ragged noise spills from his lips. His fist flies over his cock, and when he finally comes, I moan at the hot burst of it.
He’s so close to me that he basically spills himself right into my pussy, and when he grunts out his pleasure, it sounds almost like the orgasm took a piece of his soul with it.
Cum splashes onto my thighs too, and I reach down, rubbing it into my skin instinctively, like I can’t get enough.
When I glance back up, Victor is watching me, and there’s so much emotion burning in his eyes. More than I’ve ever seen before.
He stares at me, and I stare back, letting him see everything I’m feeling too.
The moment stretches out, his eyes bouncing between mine as we each slowly catch our breath. Then Vic’s lips twitch into a ghost of a smile before he steps away. He tucks his cock back into his pants, and Malice leans in and kisses me, pressing me back against the mirror over the sink.
Ransom swoops in too, stealing a kiss of his own, and I’m left panting and dizzy when they lean back. They help me down from the sink, and Ransom gets some paper towels and wets them, kneeling down so he can clean me up.
He kisses the inside of my knee as he finishes, making goosebumps pepper my skin, and when he looks up, warmth shines in his eyes.
His words from earlier tonight filter through my mind, when we were talking about Vic in my bedroom.
You’re good for him.
Maybe that really is true. And no matter how long I spent trying to deny it, now that I’ve opened my heart up a little, I can see that the other side of that is true too.
These men are good for me.