38. Malachi
MALACHI
My cock reacts to her proximity, instantly standing to attention. I break the kiss and duck my nose to her neck, inhaling the scent of her. Fuck, she smells good—not of perfume or fake scents, but just her.
I unzip the back of her dress and kiss her throat. She lets out a breathy sigh of pleasure and lets her head tilt back. The sexual tension in the room quickly ramps up.
“I think we should christen the new bed,” I growl against her skin.
“I’ll sit this one out,” Roman says in that new careful way he has of speaking due to his injured cheek. “I don’t want to make my pain worse.”
Ophelia blinks over at him with those big wide eyes. “But now I feel bad.”
“Don’t feel bad. I’m not going anywhere. I’m happy to watch. I’ll imprint it all to memory to use whenever I want.”
She gives a sexy little smile. “Well, in that case, we’d better make sure we give you a good show.”
She steps away from me and slips the strap of her dress down one shoulder and gives a little wiggle. “How about this?” She edges the other strap down and licks her lips.
Roman’s breathing grows shallower. “Yeah, that’s good.”
He takes a seat in the corner and covers the bulge in his pants with his palm.
“How about this?” She tugs the dress down over her tits then cups them, pushing them together and playing with her nipples.
Oh, fuck. She’s giving us all a show.
She tosses back her head, her long hair brushing her spine and the top of her ass. The dress slides down from her slender hips and pools around her feet. She gives a little moan as she plays with her tits, and her eyes slip shut.
We’re all fixated on her. This is a new side to her, playful and confident, and I love it. She’s blossoming, and it makes my heart sing.
My cock is so hard, it’s painful. I free myself, taking myself in my hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Touch your pussy for us,” Cain says, his voice guttural. “Step your feet apart and put your hand between your thighs.”
She keeps one hand on her breast, tweaking her nipple, and slides the other one down, over her stomach, through the tiny patch of blonde curls, and between her legs. She parts her pussy lips with her fingers and circles her clit.
She opens her eyes and stares at Cain. “Like this?”
“Yes, fuck, like that.”
“Then let me see your dick.”
He obliges, opening his jeans and pulling out his cock. It’s always hard not to feel a little intimidated when comparing my size to Cain’s, but I’ve never had any complaints.
She turns her attention to me. “Do you like seeing me touch myself, Mal?”
“Hell, yes.”
She pushes two fingers inside herself, then slides them back out. They’re glistening wet, and she steps closer to me.
“Open your mouth.”
I part my lips, my mouth already watering, and she pushes her fingers across my tongue.
“Suck,” she commands.
Who is this little sexpot? I suck her arousal from her fingers, her muskiness coating my taste buds. I’m worried I’ll come just like this, pumping my fist on my erection while she finger fucks my mouth.
“We’re going to fuck you so hard,” Cain says.
She pulls her fingers from my mouth. “Wait, can I ask you for something?”
“Anything, baby,” I tell her. “We will literally do anything for you.”
She bites her lower lip, and glances away, suddenly coy. “Will you wear your masks?”
Roman gets to his feet. “Absolutely.”
Still moving carefully, because of his injuries, he leaves the room and navigates the spiral staircase down to the first floor.
He’s barely gone a minute, and I distract myself by pulling Ophelia against me and kissing her mouth.
My cock is pressed hard against her bare stomach, and I leave a trail of pre-cum across her skin.
Cain wants in on the action, so he moves up behind her, rubbing himself against the small of her back, right above her ass.
It feels right, having her between us, and I want more.
Roman returns with the masks and hands us ours. I settle my smooth white mask over my face. Roman is already wearing his skeletal one, and Cain pulls his hood down.
The atmosphere instantly changes.
What was playful suddenly becomes darker.
Ophelia notices, too. Her lips part as she catches her breath, and her eyes widen with fear.
Even though she knows who is behind the masks, wearing them turns us into something else.
I feel it in the change of our body language, too, in the way we all seem to grow taller, our muscles tensing and our eyes darkening.
Ophelia’s nipples tighten even more.
Yes, she loves us, her masked men.
And we love her.
She turns to run, but I catch her around the waist and toss her onto the bed.
“You’re ours now.”
She bounces slightly as she hits the mattress and lets out a gasp. I climb onto the bed, pushing her back, and Cain joins me. As he’d planned, Roman retakes his seat in the corner, content to watch our show.
Between us, Cain and I hold her arms down.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her. “I’m going to stretch you, baby. See how many fingers I can get inside you.”
Her pretty two-toned eyes widen. “How many?”
My hands aren’t huge, but they’re not small either. “As many as I can. Now open your legs, or we’ll make you.”
She does as I tell her, parting her legs for us.
“Already wet,” Cain growls, trailing a finger lightly over her clit and down to her opening. “She’s ready for us.”
I love seeing her pussy all pink and puffy and spread open for me.
I open the bedside drawer for the lube—we made sure we kitted the room out with everything we might need—and crack open the cap.
I dribble it all over my fingers. She’s already wet, but if she’s going to take as much as I can give her, she’ll need all the help she can get.
Using my knee to pin down her arm, I slide a finger inside her.
She whimpers and lifts her hips, clearly wanting more.
I’m happy to oblige. I penetrate her with a second finger, and then add a third, knowing she must be feeling the stretch by now.
Cain lightly teases her clit. I can tell from the way her pussy is clenching my digits and the noises she’s making that she’s enjoying this.
Carefully, I push a fourth finger inside and she gives a strangled yelp. “Oh, that’s too much.”
“Shh. Just relax, you can do it. I know you can.” I hold still inside her, giving her a moment to grow accustomed to me.
Then I move again, slowly thrusting my fingers into her clenching pussy.
She’s so stretched around my hand that seeing it makes my cock insanely hard.
I want to be inside her, but I’m holding off because I want her to take both of us at the same time.
Could she take my whole hand?
I test, adding my thumb, and sliding up to my knuckles. Ophelia cries out and bucks her hips, but I can’t tell if she’s trying to get away or wanting more. The noises my hand makes pumping into her pussy are obscene, wet and squelching. Her chest rises and falls as she snatches little gasps of air.
“Oh, god, oh, fuck,” she cries.
“Good girl,” I praise her from behind my mask. “You’re doing so well. Soon you’ll be able to wrap that pussy around Cain’s and my cocks at the same time.”
Her eyes widen. “What? Now?”
“If you want to try?”
She turns her face toward Cain, though his expression is hidden behind his mask. Instead, her eyes lock on his huge cock.
“It’s okay if it doesn’t completely work this time,” he assures her. “It’ll be fun trying.”
We’re asking a lot from her, and even though Cain can be a manipulative asshole at times, I don’t want her to feel pressured.
“Yes, call it practice,” I say. “For when we want to try again.”
Cain hasn’t given up. “Don’t you want to feel both of us inside you at once?
Me and Malachi fucking your pretty, swollen pussy, if you can take it, then one day Roman can take your ass again at the same time.
Three cocks inside our beautiful Ophelia, filling you with our cum, watching it drip out of you when we’re done. ”
She lets out a tiny mewl. “I do want that, I do.”
She’s so turned on right now, I think she’d agree to anything.
I pump my hand inside her again, her back practically lifting off the bed. Her inner muscles clamp around me so tight, I think she’s going to come, but then it’s as though she controls herself and comes down from the edge again.
I slide my hand out of her pussy. She’s dripping wet and so swollen, just ready to be stuffed with two cocks.
“She’s ready for us,” I tell Cain.
Roman is watching from the corner. His pants are open and his cock juts upright, but he doesn’t touch himself. He just watches us from behind his mask, his fists clenched at his sides. His dick twitches, and pre cum leaks from the slit.
We reposition ourselves on the bed. Cain and I sit facing one another, my legs hooked over his thighs.
We don’t normally get so physically close, but if we want this to happen, we have no choice.
Cain has the bigger hand, so he wraps it around us both, our cocks pressed together.
It feels strange to have a man’s hand around my dick, but it’s definitely not unpleasant.
It feels right, us being the two who do this, because I’m not sure Roman could, not with what happened to him in the past. This way, if we do it again, he can take her tight little ass.
I’m so turned on that my dick throbs against Cain’s, and his gives an answering pulse. Shit, this is kind of hot .
Ophelia swings her leg and settles above us.
“That’s it, good girl,” I praise. “Slide down over us.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Just take it slowly. We can stop if you need to.”
She lowers herself. She’s facing Cain, her hands on his big shoulders to keep herself steady. He grabs her hip with his free hand. I wish she was facing me, so I could look in her eyes as she stretches around us both, but the sight of her ass more than makes up for it.
Her pussy meets the tips of our cocks, and she drops lower, hissing air over her teeth. “The stretch… it burns.”
“Keep going,” Cain growls.
She’s so wet and stretched that she manages to slide lower.
“Oh, fuck.”
When we first met Ophelia, she didn’t swear. Hearing those words pass her lips now, and filled with so much emotion, turns me on even more.
“This is so fucking hot,” Cain groans. “I’m not going to last long.”
I know exactly what he means. The feeling of her walls clamping around us both is incredible.
The heat of two bodies pressed against my dick is almost too much to take.
There’s something about doing this with us all in masks, except Ophelia, which allows us to push the boundaries further.
This way, we can pretend we’re not who we are, or at least that we are something more in this moment.
We are darker, more elemental, something of a different plane.
This isn’t my best friend’s cock I have compressed to mine, with Ophelia’s pussy wrapped around us both. It’s a masked man, a stranger.
I don’t know if we’re going to get much deeper, but that’s okay.
It’s enough for us to feel her as she lifts herself slightly then slides back down.
She lowers another inch and whimpers. I don’t think I’m going to manage much more.
I’m fighting every instinct not to buck my hips and fuck into her, but I know if I do, I’ll lose my precarious position with Cain, and we’ll both probably slide out of her.
Because Cain is facing her, he touches her face, her lips.
He can’t kiss her because of the mask, but I can see from the holes where his eyes are that he’s completely focused on her.
We help her move between us, me with my hands on her ass, his with one on her hip while he still grips our cocks together at the base with the other.
“Oh, ooh, no… I can’t,” she whimpers.
But Cain moves his hand to between her thighs and applies pressure to her clit.
He keeps moving his finger over her, and soon she’s panting and moaning.
It doesn’t take long to work her into a state of desperate need.
She’s a deeply sexual woman, despite having spent so many years suppressing it, or maybe because of that.
There’s a slapping sound, and I realize Cain has gently smacked her clit. He does it again, and then a third time.
She loses it, and, instead of taking it nice and slow, she pushes herself down on our cocks, fucking us hard. She takes us to the hilt, then lifts again and slams back down.
A strangled cry escapes her.
“I’m coming…oh, fuck…I can’t…” Her words turn into a wail as she bounces up and down on us. Cain and I remain locked together. Timing is everything now, because we need this to happen at the same time. If one of us comes too early and grows soft inside her, it’ll make this difficult.
“I’m close,” I tell him.
“Fuck, yes,” he groans. “Me, too.”
Ophelia’s pussy pulses around us, and she tosses her head back, crying out.
From the corner, Roman mutters, “Fuck,” and comes into his hand.
Then Cain lets out a guttural roar, and his cock jerks against mine.
It’s enough for me to lose it, and pleasure soars up from my balls, searing up my spine, and ejecting from my cock.
I come, emptying inside Ophelia, my semen joining Cain’s as we flood her pussy.
Ophelia jerks and shudders around us, her pussy fluttering and pulsing.
We remain locked together as the last vestiges of her orgasm flow through her.
We all fall into one another, sweating and breathing hard.
Holy shit. That was…something.
I remember what’s happened on some of the occasions we’ve fucked her before. How the Prophet’s voice came back to her, probably manifested by her inner guilt at having sex.
“Hear any voices, baby?” I ask between my pants for breath, brushing a lock of her pale hair from her neck.
She lifts her head from Cain’s shoulder and angles it slightly, then gives a shake of her head. “No. All quiet.”
I kiss her damp back. “See, you’re strong. I knew you could do it.”