Chapter 48
ARMEN
Sting moves behind her, pulling her shirt over her head in one smooth motion.
Rogue’s mouth finds her throat, teeth grazing, sucking a mark just below her pulse. She gasps, head tilting back.
I drop to my knees in front of her, and unbutton her jeans.
She steps out of them, trembling, not from cold. Need.
Sting’s hands cup her breasts from behind, circling her nipples until they’re stiff and aching. Rogue’s fingers slide between her legs.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “She’s drenched. Again.”
“She’s been like this all day,” Sting says, voice rough. “Haven’t you, Vi?”
She doesn’t answer. Just whimpers when Rogue’s fingers circle her clit—slow, teasing.
I stand, shedding my own clothes quickly. Sting and Rogue do the same. Within seconds, we’re all bare, cocks hard, surrounding her.
Vi’s eyes go wide, darting between us. “I—”
“On the blankets,” I order. “Now.”
She moves without arguing, sinking down onto the soft wool. The light from the skylight pours over her skin, turning her golden.
I kneel between her legs, spreading her wide. “You’ve been denied twice now.”
She nods, breathless.
“Not this time,” I say. Then I lower my mouth to her.
The first lick makes her cry out, loud, shameless. I lick again, tongue flat, slow, tasting her. She’s so wet, it’s obscene. So sensitive that every touch makes her hips jerk.
Sting kneels beside her head, fisting his cock. “Open,” he orders.
She does. He slides between her lips, thick and heavy, filling her mouth. She sucks greedily, hollowing her cheeks.
Rogue moves to her other side, guiding her hand to his cock. She strokes him without being told, fingers wrapping tight.
I push two fingers inside her while I lick, curling them, finding that spot that makes her moan around Sting’s cock. Her thighs shake. Her hips roll.
“That’s it,” I mutter against her. “Come for me.”
She does.
Hard. Sudden. Her body locks, thighs clamping around my head, a muffled scream vibrating. I don’t stop. I keep licking, keep curling my fingers, drawing it out until she’s sobbing.
Sting pulls out of her mouth, stroking himself. “Again,” he says. “Make her come again.”
I do.
This time with my mouth on her clit and three fingers inside her, fucking her hard and deep. She comes screaming, back arching off the blankets, hands fisting in the wool.
Rogue groans, close. He pulls her hand faster, then spills across her stomach in hot stripes.
I stand, cock aching and flip her onto her hands and knees, positioning myself behind her. She’s still shaking from the last orgasm, barely able to hold herself up.
I push inside in one brutal stroke.
She cries out, head dropping forward. I’m big, bigger than she’s ready for, but she takes it. All of it.
I fuck her hard, hands bruising her hips, pulling her back onto me with every thrust. Sting moves in front of her, fisting her hair, guiding her mouth back to his cock. She sucks him while I pound her, the wet sounds filling the room.
Rogue steps back, stroking himself again, half-smiling while he enjoys the scene.
I feel her tighten around me, another orgasm building. “Not yet,” I growl. “You don’t come until I say.”
She whimpers around Sting’s cock.
I reach around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing hard. “Now,” I say. “Come now.”
She explodes. I follow, burying deep and spilling inside her with a low groan.
Sting pulls out of her mouth and comes across her face, thick ropes painting her lips, her cheek.
We don’t stop.
Rogue takes my place, sliding into her still-fluttering cunt. He fucks her slow, controlled, hands gripping her ass cheeks.
She comes again. And again. Until she’s boneless, shaking, barely able to form words.
When we’re finally done, she collapses onto the blankets, cum dripping from her, marks covering her skin. We don’t cuddle. Don’t whisper sweet things. We just clean her up with a spare cloth. Efficient. Thorough.
Then Sting lifts her easily. “Come on,” he says. “One more thing.”
She’s too exhausted to argue.