143

Maria

I no longer recognized myself.

I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to.

Telling the three predators to fuck me was the most out of control I’d been for years, maybe my entire life. I’d craved their touch, ignoring the signs of danger the entire day. I’d thought of nothing else, weaving a powerful moment that we would share into another story. At least it was one I hadn’t dared to write down. I’d shoved the mystery piece into my suitcase, embarrassed by what I’d written, but not enough that I hadn’t read it in its entirely twice.

I’d been impressed with myself.

As I shifted in my seat, a feeling of discomfort sent a thrill through me.

The spanking had been just the appetizer, an act that had almost pushed me into a raging climax. To think that three men had that much control over me was crazy, but even so, it also allowed the feeling of freedom to continue.

“Pull off your dress,” Christian demanded.

An immediate and very intense heat bloomed in my core from the darkness woven in the simple command. I quickly glanced at the front of the SUV. There was no partition like those installed in limos, the rearview mirror positioned for the driver to be able to see what was happening. Should it bother me? Yes, but I’d never felt so eager in my life. I tugged the silk over my head, tossing it aside.

The intensity of his gaze pulled at every deep emotion, igniting a fire that would burn brightly for some time to come. My core throbbed to the point that I squeezed my thighs against his, gasping for air. He wrapped his hand around the back of my throat, pulled my head down until he was able to capture my mouth.

As he’d done in the elevator, he became ravenous, his mouth devouring mine. The sense of silence was deafening, the hard thudding of my heart now echoing in my ears. We were already insatiable, but there was a different vibration as the two men looked on, waiting their turn. I knew predators had little patience.

Christian dug his fingers into my skin, the hold completely possessive. As he sucked on my tongue, I was stripped of the lingering inhibitions, the need to have one then the other inside of me as intoxicating as their combined musky scents.

He broke the moment of intimacy, yanking me to my knees and spreading me wide open with his hands. I was forced to wrap my arms around his head as he buried his face in my pussy. I threw my head back, his actions managing to steal the air from my lungs. The ache deepened, my pussy clenching and releasing. As a string of vivid lights flashed across my eyes, I couldn’t stop panting.

The way he was devouring me was frantic, every sound he made guttural. Within seconds, I was crashing, the wave of pleasure a crescendo of want and need that had kept my vibrator busy. This was so much better.

“Oh…” I struggled to keep my eyes open, the rapture ebbing and flowing like a tidal wave. I’d never experienced such a powerful orgasm, but I wanted more. Panting, I struggled to reach his belt buckle, determined I wouldn’t stop even if he commanded me to do so.

Three masters.

Three men who wanted what only I could give them.

The thought was gloriously enrapturing. I fought with the zipper, finally freeing his cock. I wasted no time, pumping the base like a crazed animal in search of her first meal in a month. His labored breathing was a clear indication that my desire to touch and explore wouldn’t be allowed for long.

He glanced into my eyes, and I heard Clinton growling from behind.

“Hurry up, brother,” he said. “Or I’ll steal her from you.”

I tossed my head over one shoulder, licking my lips at the sight of Clinton’s hand wrapped around his thick shaft. He was huge, long, and thick. I shuddered from the sight, concentrating on the piercing he had.

A jolt of electricity soared through me, a single image flashing into my mind. I’d never been with a man who’d had a piercing. Yet…

“You can try,” Christian answered, cutting through the third moment of déjàvu. He rolled his hands down my sides, giving me a commanding look. “Slide my cock inside you.”

When I played with him, rubbing the tip up and down my wet pussy, he cracked his hand on my ass. The sound forced a whimper from my lips, and I immediately sensed we were being watched by the way the SUV drifted across the road. I did as he demanded and as soon as the tip was inside, he pulled me down with such power that I issued a sharp yelp, the brutal impact forcing me to quiver.

My muscles stretched to accommodate him, the slice of pain given how tight I was quickly becoming a dancing array of dazzling sensations. I half laughed as I struggled to breathe, wrapping my fingers around his hair. The image remained, boring into the back of my mind.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I hadn’t realized I’d looked away until Christian grasped my jaw with his fingers, tugging my head until I looked into his eyes.

“Ride me.”

His voice was deep and throaty, and the desperate need returned, all thoughts of anything else fading away. There was no ignoring his plea. I undulated my hips, riding him until vibrations danced down the backs of my legs. God, how I wanted his naked body pressed against mine, but my fingers fumbled as I tried to unbutton his shirt, the pleasure becoming sheer bliss.

I dug my fingers through his buttonholes, closing my eyes as the touch sent another round of current into me. He fisted my hair at the scalp, holding me close as I bucked even harder, wanting nothing more than for him to slam all the way into me. The thought was sinful and raw, making the moment feel like something dirty was happening between us.

I sensed Weston getting closer. When I felt the touch of his fingers on my naked back, I let off a series of moans. He caressed me as a lover would before wrapping his hand around my jaw. “Suck my fingers, little lamb.”

His term of endearment pushed me to another edge, yet Christian was in control, one hand now positioned on my hip, guiding the rhythm. I opened my mouth wide, allowing Weston to thrust his fingers inside. It was almost more intimate than being fucked by the gorgeous man.

“Such a good girl,” Weston whispered, then nuzzled into my neck, not only blowing hot air across my skin but also nipping my earlobe. The wash of instant pain added to the crazed enjoyment.

I sucked and licked his fingers even as his plunges became rougher, so much so that I felt my gag reflex kicking in.

“That’s it,” Christian muttered. “Soon you’ll have a thick cock inside your tight mouth.” He lifted his hips, taking more control. His cock continued to throb. I was so close to coming. I could feel it.

As soon as Weston removed his fingers, Christian pulled me closer until my back arched. I had no understanding of what he was doing at first.

Until Weston wiggled a finger into my dark hole.

Another powerful orgasm swept through me, my core erupting.

My moan was bedraggled, barely recognizable. I no longer cared if the man up front witnessed everything that was happening between us. This was a pure slice of heaven that I hoped would be repeated. “More,” I managed, the sound demanding.

“Don’t worry, baby girl,” Christian breathed against me, his voice hitching and indicating he was closer. “There’s gonna be much more.” His thrusts became wild, unrestrained as he drove himself closer to releasing.

Weston continued finger-fucking my ass as I rode Christian with everything I had, the blissful moment becoming something I’d remember for a long time. As soon as Christian’s body started to shake, I squeezed my pussy muscles. He erupted deep inside, his strangled roar one of satisfaction.

I wasn’t allowed to bask in the moment for long, Weston pulling me away, taking the seat next to Christian, then pulling me down onto his lap. I was now able to stare at Clinton, studying his hard, cold eyes as they pierced mine. There was a darkness in the intensity, a need that was entirely different than the others.

He never blinked, only allowing his gaze to roam across my naked body. Then he lifted his eyes towards the front. “Keep driving. We’re not finished yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

I shuddered at the rawness in his voice, then dragged my tongue across my lips as I concentrated on the glisten of precum covering his sensitive slit. He chuckled, then beckoned with a single finger.

Weston eased me into the floor, my torso fitting perfectly between the two sets of seats.

Clinton wasted no time, wrapping his fingers around my long curls, jerking my head up so I was forced to look into his eyes. Then he fought to drag his pants down further on his massive thighs. I noticed a powerful tattoo on his right thigh, a dragon with a deep red eye that seemed as if it was staring at me.

His cock was a creation of beauty, so perfect with the veins on either side pumping with blood, the tip a dark purple. He grinned, seeing what had to be an expression of awe. I’d never sucked a man who had a piercing, and as the excitement built, he issued a ragged growl. “Suck me, baby. Don’t stop until I tell you it’s okay.”

He pushed my head down until I was able to drink in the musky scent of his testosterone. There was something especially dirty about being on all fours inside an SUV made for a mafia man, a vehicle to keep him safe and alive. And the thought of sucking his cock made my mouth water. I licked around his cockhead, taking my time to savor the flavor.

He settled further into the leather seat, keeping his fingers tangled in my hair. Every breath he took was labored; his jaw clenched as he stared at me.

The man was in total control of himself, as if he would lose everything if he weren’t. It was a strange feeling, yet one I knew to be true. I rolled my hand under his cock, fingering his balls. They were already swollen, yet tight. When I squeezed the sac, a look of satisfaction popped onto his face.

I raked one nail up and down the side of his shaft, swirling the tip around his cockhead. When another bead of precum trickled past his slit, I was greedy, dragging my tongue through it. He laughed as if the small amount was just the tip of the iceberg. The feeling of Christian’s cum dripping down the insides of my thighs was scintillating, adding to the moment of raw pleasure.

Seconds later, Weston squeezed behind me, planting one foot on the carpeted flooring, immediately tapping his cock against my aching bottom.

“My turn, little lamb,” he whispered, then bent over, licking and nipping my shoulder. “And I have a feeling you like it rough.”

Clinton allowed me to answer, stroking my hair briefly as he peered down at me.

“Yes.” I was shocked at the ease of my quick reply, wanting to hate myself for admitting what I’d only allowed in fantasies.

“Good girl,” Weston praised, and I shivered to my core. Even the sound of his voice added to the rush of excitement. How had the three men seen through the carefully crafted armor I’d kept around me for as long as I could remember?

It had been a useful tool in my line of work, keeping the nasty comments from people in the industry who tried to break me down as well as the temptations in a distant space. Maybe that’s why I’d never turned to drugs or alcohol as a crutch.

And why I’d craved wild, passionate sex.

The thought revealed a lot about me.

Clinton pushed my head down once again, opening his legs ever wider. “Take my cock into your hot mouth.”

I engulfed his cockhead, swirling my tongue back and forth. More than anything, I wanted to please him. The thought heightened the taste, tangy yet sweet.

Weston rubbed his cock up and down the length of my pussy. When he finally pushed the tip against my swollen, wet folds, I almost stopped sucking.

The light taps of Clinton’s fingers against my cheek brought a muffled moan.

I resumed my task, relaxing my throat muscles as I took more of him into my mouth. I would never claim to be an expert cock sucker. I’d had limited experience, partially because I’d never been interested. But this was different, the taste of him igniting another fire deep inside. The dull roar as the tires rolled over the road was somehow comforting, a stark reminder that what we were doing was sinful.

At least that’s what I’d always been told. I mentally laughed at myself. I was thirty-one years old, and I’d kept tight reins on every aspect of my life. Maybe this was me sowing my wild oats, something I wasn’t certain I’d done before.

Weston continued caressing my skin as he guided the tip of his cock to my entrance. I stiffened, the anticipation keeping the fire burning deep within. The moment he thrust the entire length of his cock inside, Clinton lifted his pelvis, shoving his shaft into my mouth, the tip hitting the back of my throat.

The momentary gag reflex was replaced with the desire to suck him. I wrapped my lips around his thickness, getting used to the way he throbbed inside my mouth as Weston powered into me. His strokes were long and even, driving into the very core of my being. He was just as thick and hard, my muscles still aching from the delicious fucking Christian had given me.

I was crazed with desire, barely able to think clearly as I pulled my mouth off Clinton’s cock, something he allowed me to do. I could sense he was watching me closely, just like I knew Christian was. All three men were possessive, so much so that they’d each lay claim in their own way.