29. Ophelia
OPHELIA
“Yes,” I whisper in answer to Cain’s question.
My heart is beating so hard I feel faint.
Despite being naked, I’m hot and clammy.
I’m not sure if it’s arousal or nerves, perhaps both.
Cain tangles his fingers in my hair as he pulls my head back and places a gentle kiss against my lips.
It’s quite a chaste kiss, and I think it’s meant to be reassuring, but all I can taste is myself on him, and it’s such a shock.
He kisses my cheek, the tip of my nose, my forehead, then kisses me once more on the mouth before stepping back.
“Anytime you need to stop, just say.” He squeezes my hand once before he pulls his briefs down.
His huge cock slaps against his stomach, and I gasp. I stare in shock.
Reacting without even thinking, I point. “That’s not going to fit.”
Cain laughs softly at my words.
Roman steps to one side, as though to get a better view, and folds his arms. “It will fit, because we’ve got you ready.
Malachi will use his fingers to open you up more, then he’ll guide Cain inside your virgin hole.
You’ll be our perfect offering. Just this one time, we will do this and, after tonight, we won’t speak of it again.
For tonight, though, Ophelia, you are ours. ”
I swallow hard. This is suddenly oh, so real.
He said Malachi would touch Cain; that’s such a sin, surely?
“Do you mind him doing that?” I ask Cain.
He shakes his head. “When we are masked, it’s different. You go into a different headspace, become something else entirely.”
“It’s a transgressive state,” Roman says.
The idea gives me a frightened thrill.
There’s a huge bed in the corner of the room, but it’s clear my first time is to be within the circle of candles.
It reminds me that we’re not only doing this for the fun of it—there’s a reason behind it, and it’s important.
This is to make sure that once and for all, I’m free of the Prophet, and not only because of the cleansing ritual to rid my head of his voice.
Once I’m no longer a virgin, he won’t have any use for me. The physical Isiah Abram is still out there somewhere—something I’m still conscious of. Though he has no idea if I’m even alive, it’s a constant worry in the back of my mind that one day he might find me again.
If I’m soiled, tarnished, then he’ll no longer want me as a wife, though he may still kill me as punishment for escaping him.
Maybe it’s my fear of that happening that has created the voice. And if the voice isn’t real, and it’s just my mind making him up, once I’ve done this, I’ll have proven to myself I’m in charge of my own destiny. Either way, I’m hopeful this works for me.
Roman steps out of the circle to grab a blanket from the back of the couch, and he places it on the floor.
Between the three of them, they gently lower me to the floor. I am the sacrificial lamb.
Cain picks something off the floor, and Malachi does the same.
I realize it’s their masks. They both pull them back over their faces, and my heart steps up a notch.
Roman never removed his, so now I’m lying on the floor with three masked men standing over me.
Only Cain is naked except for his intimidating face covering, and he fists his huge cock and strokes it up and down.
It’s so erotic because he could be anyone. For a moment, I slip into a fantasy that it’s not Cain, my childhood friend, but a masked man who found me in the woods and is going to do sinful things to me, whether I let him or not. My body likes that fantasy, and my clit throbs.
Cain continues stroking himself, his chest rising and falling. I’m mesmerized. I’ve never seen a man’s erect cock in the flesh before. The belled curve of the tip is smooth and dark red, and as I watch, a single bead of fluid appears from the slit.
“Oh!” My mouth suddenly waters, and I scramble to my knees. I’m nervous as hell, but I want to experience all of it. Everything. Didn’t Roman say this might be the only time I get to do this? “Can I taste it?”
Cain’s abs flex, and he nods behind his mask.
I feel like I should get to know this dick before I let it inside me.
I flick my tongue hesitantly over the slit, tasting the bead of fluid.
It’s salty and hot, and I roll the flavor around my mouth.
My pussy pulses in response, my nipples tingling.
Then I lean in and inhale the musky scent of his cock, running my nose down the length, brushing the tip against his skin.
How can something so silky soft have such hardness beneath?
Cain’s breathing has grown ragged above me, and I find that I’m enjoying having this effect on him. Maybe I’m submissive by nature—or perhaps it was trained into me—but there’s a power in making a man breathe in such a way.
He doesn’t touch me, allowing me to explore him.
I use my tongue to trace the thick ridges of the veins, then tentatively cup my hand to his balls, and lightly squeeze.
As I gently play with his balls, his slit pulses out another bead of fluid, and I find myself utterly fascinated by his body’s reactions.
I’m aware of both Malachi and Roman watching.
How do they feel about me lavishing such attention on their friend’s cock?
Do they feel any jealousy? Do they wish it was them?
A quick glance to the front of Malachi’s jeans confirms he’s hard, and as I glance at Roman, I see him press his hand against his robe at his crotch.
It’s a brief touch, but I see how turned on he is from the hardness his palm highlights for that second in time.
Roman insists he doesn’t want this, despite his obvious arousal, but I know Malachi does.
“Angel,” Cain groans, “you need to stop now if you want me inside you.”
I do want that.
I pause in my administrations, with my lips just inches from the head of his cock, and gaze up at him. “I’m sorry, Cain.”
He gives an actual growl—animalist and full of need. “Lie the fuck back down.”
Ever the willing servant, I spread myself on the blanket.
“Open your legs,” Roman instructs.
Roman edges closer, and I’m sure it’s to get a better look at my exposed pussy.
I do as he says, parting my thighs wide.
I’m swollen and wet, and completely open to them.
Cain drops to his knees between my legs, and Malachi does the same at my side.
A part of me wishes I could see their faces, while the other part loves the debauchery and the threat of their masks.
Occasionally, in the past, I’d wondered what my first time would be like—most likely in the dark with a man I’d been forced to take as my husband—but I’d never imagined it would be anything like this.
Malachi reaches between my thighs to play with my clit. His smooth, white mask is expressionless and strange, but I can see his brown eyes behind it. They’re hooded and darkened with lust.
“Mal,” Roman says, his voice throaty, “help Cain.”
I prop myself up on my elbows, needing to witness every moment. With Cain naked between my thighs, Malachi uses one hand to spread my pussy wide, while he takes Cain’s cock in his other hand, and guides it to my opening.
The smooth head presses against me, and I draw a sharp breath.
There’s still a little part of me that’s afraid this will hurt, that believes he’s too big and I’ll never stretch enough to accommodate him, but my desire overwhelms my fear.
Cain nudges forward, and the head vanishes inside me.
There’s a stretch and a slight sting, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. My wetness eases his way.
He pauses, allowing me to get used to his size.
Malachi applies a light pressure to my clit, and my inner muscles pulse.
Almost absentmindedly, his hand moves up and down Cain’s shaft, masturbating Cain while he’s partially inside me.
With both of them masked, it’s as though they have an anonymity now—they are free to do anything with no repercussions.
Cain lets out a groan from behind his hooded mask and slides deeper.
I watch him vanish inside me, inch by inch, until I can’t take it anymore and drop my head.
Malachi releases his friend and moves higher up my body to take care of me.
He half lifts his mask, exposing his mouth, so he can kiss me again.
He uses one hand to roll my clit in slow circles, while the other plays with one of my nipples.
He is distracting me, and a moment later, I understand why.
Cain reaches a point where he stops, and I feel the pressure increasing inside me.
I want to grit my teeth, but Mal’s tongue in my mouth stops me.
Then it’s like something pops inside me, and with it comes a harsh stab of pain. I cry out against Malachi’s lips.
“I’m inside you, Angel,” Cain grits out. “You’re taking me like such a good girl. Just breathe for me. Fuck, your pussy is so perfect.”
Malachi smooths back my hair as he breaks off the kiss. “You’re doing so well, baby-girl. Does it hurt too much?”
I shake my head. “No, please. Keep going.”
Cain does exactly that, and the sensations soon turn from the sharp sting of pain, to something more mellow. As he keeps pushing into me, slowly retreating and pushing back in, pleasure grows in me again.
Cain is moving carefully, but I want more. The whole situation is driving me crazy. His big body working above me is so sexy all by itself, but having another man touching me, while a third watches, makes the entire experience heady beyond all belief.
A need to come builds inside me. I can’t believe how good this feels. I’m so full, and every nerve ending in my body is alight with desire. My mind is swimming in a pleasurable rush of endorphins.
“Fuck her properly, Cain,” Roman instructs.
I’d almost forgotten he was there. I flick my gaze over to him. I know he’s hard, but he hasn’t even touched himself. I don’t want to think about his reasons for avoiding this—not now—but my heart aches for him.
Cain slowly slides back out of me and drives back in, harder this time.
I let out a cry, my pussy contracting around him, then he does it again.
Malachi continues to pet my clit as Cain fucks me.
My tits bounce with every stroke, but I’m too turned on to care what I look like.
I haven’t even thought about my scar while in this room.
I arch my hips and back, fucking Cain in return, and my motions only seems to drive him on.
All of his muscles are tense and defined—his biceps, as he holds my hips to steady me, his abs and thighs, as he pistons inside me.
He’s like a powerful beast above me, taking what it needs and giving it to me, too.
I’m so close…right on the edge…ready to break…
And then I do, a wave of pleasure hits so powerfully, I forget where I am or even who I am for a moment.
My body bucks, and I cry out, uncaring who can hear me.
With my eyes squeezed shut, I arch my back, my toes curling as the shocks of my orgasm punch through me again and again. My pussy clamps around Cain’s cock.
He moans, “Aah, fuck…”
I’d swear he grows even bigger inside me, as he slams hard and fast, then holds himself deep, his hips jerking. I wish I could see his face contort in pleasure, but from the sounds he’s making, I know he’s coming.
A new kind of wet heat fills me, and I keep my eyes closed, absorbing this new sensation.
We’re left panting, our hearts racing. I’m suddenly self-conscious, aware of every part of me. I want to gather up the blanket I’m lying on and cover my body with it, but Cain is still inside me. I know when he pulls out, there will probably be blood.
I cover my face with my hands, worried my scar might be standing out in stark contrast to my flushed face, but Malachi’s gentle touch pulls them down again.
“Don’t hide from us, baby.” He shakes his head slowly. “Not ever.”
To my surprise, I find myself close to tears, but I blink them away again. I don’t want to be known as the girl who cried after losing her virginity.
But my God, what a way to lose it.