Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Adeline
He bites down on the inside of my thigh, making me flinch before I feel his hot breath fan my core.
Eli grips my thighs tightly, opening them wider before I feel his tongue dart out, separating my lips before he plunges it inside me, tasting me while Cyrus keeps my mouth covered with his, swallowing my moans.
I roll my hips against his face, and his grip on my thighs tightens, holding me in place while his mouth devours me with his relentless licking and sucking.
Eli moves, and I feel Cyrus grip my knee before feeling Eli ease his fingers inside me, twisting and curling them deep within, my heat making me squirm.
Cyrus’s hand grips my knee to stop me from slamming it on Eli’s face while he picks up his pace, both more familiar with my body than I am, so in tune with each other.
My legs tremble as I feel my stomach tighten, my skin becoming clammy, and I grip the back of Cyrus’s head, kissing him harder as my orgasm washes over me.
I try to stop my muffled cries as Eli shoves me over the edge, making me crash down with a rush, my pussy pulsating as I writhe underneath them.
I feel Cyrus laugh before smiling against my lips.
If I wasn’t so breathless and coming down from my high, I would slap him for letting me awaken the village to what we are doing in the room.
My cries are far from quiet, and I can feel my face heat as Eli crawls back up my body, pressing his impressive length against me before rolling his hips, his crotch rubbing against my sensitive throbbing core, his mouth going to my breasts, before wrapping his lips around my nipple and tugging on it with his teeth.
I see Cyrus stand, removing his pants before standing beside the bed, stroking his length, turning slightly and reaching for him.
He steps closer to me, and I wrap my hand around his veiny length, stroking him before propping myself up on one elbow and licking his tip.
My tongue licks up the bead of precum that coats the tip.
I run my tongue around the head before sucking on it, and he groans, thrusting into my mouth.
His hand goes into my hair as he slowly thrusts into my mouth, my saliva coating his length as I force my throat to relax to take more of him in when I feel Eli move.
He grips my hips, ripping me down the bed before flipping me over onto my hands and knees.
Cyrus moves onto the bed, and I wrap my lips back around his cock, sucking and licking his aroused flesh before feeling Eli move between my legs, his erection pressing against my core before I feel him adjust himself and sheathe himself inside me, making me almost choke on Cyrus’s cock.
He moves slowly, thrusting in and out of me, my walls clamping down around his massive length as it fills me, building up pleasurable friction and leaving goosebumps on my skin as his grip on my hips tightens as he speeds up, thrusting in harder and faster.
My arousal coats his length and my thighs as it spills out of me.
I moan around Cyrus’s length, feeling his cock twitch in my mouth as he pushes me further down, making me take all of him in my mouth.
The sounds of slapping flesh echo throughout the room as Eli pounds into me almost painfully if not for the pleasurable tightening and sparks rushing over me.
I push back against him, his claws sinking into my hips, and I know he is close as I feel the familiar sensation of every muscle tensing as my skin gets covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
I feel my walls clamp down around him, my core fluttering around his cock as I reach my climax, just as I feel hot ropes of Cyrus’s seed spill into the back of my throat, his grip on my hair tightening as he thrusts once more into my mouth, and I am forced to swallow him down just as Eli stills within me, my pussy milking his cock as I, too, come.
I pull back, Cyrus’s length leaving my lips as I suck in much-needed air, trying to catch my breath.
Eli’s hands stroke the side of my thighs before I feel him pull out of me, letting me collapse on the bed.
My entire body is feeling sore. I feel the bed dip as Cyrus climbs out of it to clean himself up, and he hands me some underwear.
I dazedly pull them on before pulling the blanket up while sleep tries to take me.
* * *
Waking the next morning, I find myself between Eli and Cyrus, who are both still asleep.
I sit up before carefully climbing over Cyrus and hopping out of bed.
I stretch, my back aching from not moving all night.
Digging through the bags, I find some tights and slip them on along with a shirt before slipping on a dressing gown I’ve found in one of the bags that Cyrus has brought home yesterday.
I can tell it is late in the morning, and we have overslept by the sounds of people outside and the light filtering in through the small window.
Being as quiet as possible, I find the box with the sat phone.
Opening it, I retrieve the yellow phone that resembles more of a wireless house phone.
I turn it on to see it only has two bars of battery, yet no reception.
I sneak out of the room, needing to pee.
Emery is not on the futon in the living room, making me wonder where she has gone.
The cold stone floor makes my toes ache as I move toward the front door, needing to get to the toilet.
My bladder screaming at me makes me rush out the door and around the side of the house.
I toss the door open and rush in, a sigh leaving my lips as I pee.
When I finish, I wash my hands before drying them on the dressing gown.
I retrieve the phone from my dressing gown pocket, check the reception, and find I have reception outside.
Closing the bathroom door, I step into the sun and dial my mother’s house phone.
We’ve had the same number since I was a child, and I know the number by heart.
The phone rings out before I try her mobile, which also goes to voicemail. Sighing, I leave a message telling her I will try her again later or for her to call this number back.
Walking around the front of the house, I notice something going on at the arena next to the house, making me walk over to the fence.
I find targets made out of straw with red paint on them, and Maverick is teaching some of the children how to throw knives.
I look around, trying to figure out how to get into the arena before finding a wooden gate.
I push it open, step in, and sit down on one of the pews, observing.
I watch Maverick go around, showing the kids how to hold the knives, parents leaning on the fences, watching their children and chatting to each other.
Maverick, noticing me, walks over with a smile on his face. “Hey, Adeline.”
I smile, giving him a wave before he sits down next to me. He looks around, looking for Eli and Cyrus.
“They are still asleep,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Are you allowed out here? I don’t want you getting in any trouble with Eli.”
“He is just overprotective, and no, he doesn’t know. I was trying to ring my mother,” I tell him, showing him the phone.
He nods. “Did you get a hold of her?”
I shake my head. “No, she must be working, and I can’t remember my sister’s number. Do all the kids train?” I ask him, watching a little blonde-haired girl toss a knife hitting the center of the target.
“Yeah, once they hit five, we start training them. You want to try?” he asks, and I chew on my fingernail nervously.
I don’t feel like being shown up by a bunch of kids, but I am not completely inexperienced.
My father taught us to throw knives at an old tree in our backyard when we were kids, but I haven’t thrown a knife since I was eleven and mom told him it was too dangerous after my sister dropped one on her foot.
“Come, I will show you,” Maverick says, holding his hand out to me before pulling it back. “Sorry, forgot. No touching.”
He walks me over to a target before handing me a knife. I glance at the parents standing on the other side of the fence.
“If you want me to try, you might want to get them to move,” I tell him, and I see one of the men laugh hearing what I said before shuffling over and away from the target.
They move more than necessary; my aim isn’t that bad, but I am definitely not confident in my ability to throw a knife and hit a target.
Maverick taps my feet with his before showing me how to stand and grabs another knife, showing me how to hold and throw it.
His knife hits the dead center of the target.
I hold the cold steel handle, getting used to the weight of the severely unbalanced knife in my hands that is as big as my forearm.
Maverick shows me again, and I nod, also trying to remember what my father used to tell us.
Surprisingly enough, I manage to hit the target on the first go, but the outer red ring; I am a little shocked that it even stuck, expecting it to fall out.
“Not bad. You done this before?”
“Yeah, when I was a kid and not with such a huge knife,” I tell him, and he nods, handing me another.
The little girl at the target beside me holds her knife up. “Lady?” she says, making me look at her.
“Addie,” I tell her, and she nods, her dark curls framing her face. She must be around nine or ten years old.
“Hold it further down,” she says, showing me.
I nod, adjusting my grip on the knife.
She throws her knife, and it sticks into the target all the way to the handle. “And throw it harder.”
I nod, having a go, the knives getting closer to the center the more I throw them. I find I am getting the hang of it after a while and actually having fun. Maverick whistles so everyone can walk to their target to retrieve their knives. I walk over, pulling mine from the target.
“Not bad for a human,” the girl says.
I smile at her; at least she is talking to me.