CHAPTER FOUR #2
Casual. Simple like he’s offering to braid my hair. The simple statement sends a punch of desire slamming straight up between my thighs.
And all I can muster is a weak, “Oh.”
Because what am I supposed to say?
Seemingly satisfied by my response, he hooks my camisole and drags the lacy neckline down, spilling my breast free. The nipples immediately pucker under the cool air and his steady scrutiny.
“Kellen...”
“Shhh,” he soothes, reaching up and cradling my exposed chest. “Quiet. That’s it.
Lips closed. No sound. I want to feel how wet my baby is.
How ready.” He squeezes the mounds before rolling the nipples beneath his palms. “I want my fingers soaked the way your panties are. Do you want to ride my fingers, little one? Do you want to cum for me?”
Yes! God, yes, but I was told to stay silent.
I nod eagerly and melt when he smiles into my eyes.
“Turn first and feed me your breasts.”
The command has my face going warm, but I turn and push out my chest in offering.
“With your hands. Hold them for me.”
Embarrassed but obeying, I cup my breasts and offer them to the mouth he drops.
I watch, delirious as he takes my right nipple between his lips. His big, warm hands flatten against my back and he drags me close. Bows me to him. His gaze never leaves my face. He watches every shift and flicker as he sucks. As he nibbles and tugs.
“Kellen.” I only mouth his name when I want to moan it.
“Not yet. Not here.” He switches for the other nipple. He nips with his teeth and my head falls back with a gasp. “I want to play a game. Will you play with me, Rina?”
I nod, threading my fingers through his thick strands and holding him to my aching breast.
“Your cunt smells like heaven,” he breathes and sucks nearly my entire tit into his mouth.
It pops out with a wet slurping that goes straight to the place he’s talking about.
“I could smell it when we arrived. I could smell it before you walked into the room. My cock is throbbing to mount you right here and make you beg for every inch. And I have a lot, Rina. I will rip your hole while I breed you full of cum.”
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
“Show me,” I beg, eyes fixed on the stiff, massive bulge pushing up the front of his jeans.
“That’s not the game. The game is to finger you in front of my brothers. Make your hole leak all down my hand, and you, being a quiet little mouse for me. They can’t know what a filthy girl you are. What you’re letting me do. They’ll want to take their turn and I’m not ready to share you yet.”
I’m too horrified to speak, but that doesn’t seem to bother him as he buttons my cardigan back up but leaves my camisole tucked beneath my breasts. The soft wool scratches my still exposed nipples with every ragged breath.
Kellen hooks the deep V neckline and pulls it aside just enough to bare the peak. His thumb rolls over it in slow circles until I can’t take anymore.
“Turn.”
I do without question and I’m rewarded with the plunge of his hand down my pants. They shove past my panties and...
“Oh, God, yes!” I whine, head falling back against his shoulder.
“That’s not quiet, Rina,” he scolds and fills me with two thick fingers that send my brain into a tailspin.
I’m riding his hand.
I’m pushing him deeper, impaling my hole again and again while he palms my breast with his other hand. I’m already so close I can’t think of anything else.
“Like that?” He pulls me back and, using the fingers wedged inside, he lifts me up onto his lap. My legs are thrown wide over both of his, spreading me for him. “You’re riding my hand like such a greedy girl. Your cunt is—”
I don’t hear what my cunt is when I choke on his name and cum.
Not delicately.
Not with a gentle buzz and flare.
I cum with a heaving wail that he slaps a hand over my mouth to silence. His fingers pound with vicious triumph that have my legs kicking. The sharp slap of skin is nothing to his cruel, delicious words cutting through the fog.
“Fucking needed this. Don’t stop. God, you cum so beautifully, but you’re missing something.”
I’m thinking his cock when he nudges me up and pulls his fingers free of my center.
I can barely stand on my own. He bends me over the island.
High enough that my legs dangle and I’m powerless to do anything when he yanks my pants down to my ankles.
At this angle and position, he has a clear view of my slippery mound.
“That little thing will need to be retrained to take me,” he decides. “We have to stretch you all over again. Get you big and wide like before. You want that, little one? Want to ruin your tight hole all over again so the only cocks that will feel good are ours?’
I nod vigorously and spread my legs the best I can with the confines of my pants.
He chuckles. “By the time we finish, we’ll make sure you can fit all three in that one hole.”
The thought of getting stuffed and forced while they tell me I’m their little whore overrules the logistics, and I know he can see the flood of liquid running down my thighs. Raining down to soak my bunched pants.
I think I should be mortified but it’s short lived when his tongue is there. Lapping and cleaning and invading. His mouth latches on my lips and he sucks, and I think I’m dying when he fills me.
When he pushes something stiff and hard into my opening.
Not a cock.
Not a tongue or finger.
This is thin and long and hard.
The end catches against my clit like a hook and stops.
“What...?”
He ignores me.
I’m pulled off the counter. My pants are readjusted back up and my underwear keeps the object from slipping out.
“Let’s go see your boys, little one.”
As much as I want to know what he’s lodged inside me, the rub and motion feels so good. A little daunting, but I don’t argue as I take his hand and let him lead me out to the sitting room.
Both men glance up from the book they’d been pouring over. One of the scary tomes with the crusty covers. It’s slapped shut and dropped down on the coffee table.
Behind them, the fire roars. It’s a snapping inferno of light that consumes the room with swaying shadows. It animates the horrific paintings on the walls. Casts an eerie silhouette around the artifacts. The entire room seems to breathe and shift.
I shudder and pull closer to Kellen.
“The reading material is intense,” Roan says, gesturing to the book. “Inaccurate, but close enough to be a concern.”
I don’t want to know how he knows what’s accurate, but my thoughts are redirected to the heavy hands Kellen settles on my hips. I’m repositioned with him dropping into the sofa directly across from the boys and me getting drawn down into his lap.
Gingerly.
Whatever he has inside me isn’t flexible. It pokes my walls a little sharply, but he seems to know the exact way to angle me to make it almost comfortable.
“Blanket,” he tells Roan, who promptly hops to his feet and rushes to grab one off the armchair by the fire.
It’s warm and cozy when Kellen shakes it out and bundles me up in it. His big hands press me deeper into his chest while simultaneously tucking one hand under and keeping the other across my waist outside the blanket.
“What else did you find?” he asks his brothers, who don’t find any of this unusual.
Both can’t seem to take their eyes off my face, watching with such knowing intensity I nearly squirm.
I do jump when Kellen slips his hand down my pants. It’s slow, careful not to show anything when he spreads my lips and skims my clit.
My channel seizes around the thing inside me. It rushes with fresh heat as he winds me up with the steadiest little strokes. Barely anything, but consistent and with just enough pressure to make my hips beg to follow.
“She was the worst kind of delusional,” Roan states.
“Surprised she didn’t get herself killed sooner,” Lukan is saying, but the words are a fuzzy drone amongst the high buzz forming between my ears.
Kellen has abandoned my switch to take hold of the thing inside me.
He’s fucking me with it with the same easy grace.
Every downward stroke has the pointed curve grazing my clit and renewing my need to move.
To buck. I’m already having a hard enough time keeping my face stoic and my moans locked behind my teeth.
“Should probably burn it,” Lukan is saying when I force myself to think. “Can’t have anyone else finding it.”
He pushes to his feet and Roan turns his head to follow his brother’s back to the bookcase. And that’s all the time Kellen needs to turn his lips into my ear.
“Cum, my little mouse.”
I do, with only three fast strokes of his fingers. I jerk and stiffen, and suffer in silence while cutting a chunk from my lip to keep the sounds trapped.
Kellen takes me right to the end with his thumb flat on my pulsing bud. His lips roam along my jaw and down my neck. Casual, like he’s not killing me.
“Fucking perfect,” he whispers for my ears only. “Such a good girl.”
The thing inside me is drawn out with slow concentration. It’s unearthed from the folds of the blanket and — to my stunned horror — he offers it to his brothers the second Lukan returns with a small pile of books.
The men glance up at the shiny, red and white striped candy canes being handed to them.
Candy canes.
Two of them.
Both slick with my release.
I’m too shocked to speak, to move as the sweets are taken without question. Not one reasonable ask of where they came from because Kellen hadn’t been holding them when we arrived. Not even surprise when they put them straight into their mouths.
The place that had been holding them pangs. It dribbles with a sticky release of pleasure watching them suck my cum off the stems.
But also, if I get a yeast infection because of this, someone is getting their ass kicked.
Thoughts for later, as Kellen kisses my cheek and turns his attention to the stack his brothers are flipping through.
“Shouldn’t touch those,” I rasp, painfully aware of my own quivering, breathless voice. “Don’t you guys watch horror movies? If you summon a demon while I’m here, I’ll beat you.”
The two men across from me, candy canes nestled between their lips, look up at me. First with confusion. Then amusement.
“The only malicuri you should be worried about climbing into your body and terrorizing you...” Roan smirks and runs the flat width of his tongue up the side of his sugar stick, “are us.”
I chuckle. “A malicuri? What’s that?”
“Demons,” Kellen says before Roan can. “It’s what they’re actually called. Demons is a new term aged term, but before humans, they were called malicuri.”
His matter-of-fact response elicits another giggle from me. “When did you become such an expert on demons ... malicuri? Last time we talked, you were apprenticing to become a plumber.”
“Had to tackle a few haunted pipes,” he answers smoothly, nuzzling the side of my neck.
“How do you tackle a haunted pipe?”
I squirm in his lap as the spot he’s nipping tickles.
“I’m really good with my fingers,” he drawls into my ear.
Heat crawls up my cheeks as memories of just how deft his fingers are has me wiggling for a whole new set of reasons.
Lukan hasn’t said a word.
He’s a million miles away, lost in whatever fantasy has him chomping down on his candy with aggressive cracks. But his eyes are on my face. Scrutinizing like he knows exactly what just happened.
Careful not to move too quickly and spill out of my cardigan, I nudge the blanket off. Kellen doesn’t stop me as I get to my feet. They all watch as I stand awkwardly with my pussy sticky and my breasts barely covered.
“I just need the washroom,” I tell them, and I don’t wait for a response.
I need to get the sugar out of my cooch.
I’m not mad about it. The experience was hot and something I never would have thought to try. Definitely not something I would repeat, but still enjoyed it. The only thing I need to figure out now is how to get it clean.
The corridor to the powder room is dim. Barely illuminated by the single grimy bulb dangling in the center. The halo doesn’t reach the far corners where the shadows pool and stretch with creeping fingers that extend...
A hand claps over my mouth.