Chapter 7

M y captor, the one wearing a blood-splattered skull mask, who is very much still fully clothed, thrusts inside me. After the way they’ve both used my throat in quick succession and tormented me, I’m slippery and drenched, allowing him to shove his way inside with sharp pulses of his hips. Even though my body is bent over the armrest of this expensive leather couch, the force of each pump shunts me forward.

I’m helpless beneath him as he begins to pick up his pace. My pussy is so obscenely wet after sucking their cocks and being wound up for so long that all I can hear over the crackling of the fire is the sound of my slickness.

If I wasn’t already so delirious with pleasure and the overwhelming situation I’ve found myself in, I might be embarrassed. Instead, I’m busy making whimpering noises and biting my lip so hard I’ll no doubt taste blood any second.

My body is like a cat in heat, arching and mewling beneath the brutal jolts of his hips against my ass. The ridged edges of his piercings are unfamiliar, yet they’re feeling so much better than I could ever have imagined.

He fills and stretches me, each slide in and out brings the dragging sensation into heightened focus. God, this man would feel insanely good even without metal bars through his cock.

This is a man who clearly knows what he’s doing.

If I thought his impression on my body was all-consuming, that’s when I couldn’t be more wrong. The cushion in front of me dips under a heavy weight, and Copper Mask is right there, kneeling in front of me, only now he’s shirtless. There’s a sinful V of muscle directing my mouth exactly where to go, and this time, he doesn’t need to say anything.

I angle my neck and stick out my tongue. His dutiful hole to enjoy.

He fists his cock, making a self-satisfied noise. As he adjusts his position his head tilts to one side, looking down at me with that pale skull face adorning his features. Jesus Christ, from the look of his body, I can only imagine what he might look like without the mask to hide behind.

While his body is pure sin to look at, I also notice scars covering his torso. Pale slivers that look like wounds from a blade. Maybe even bullets, who knows. He’s got secrets—or maybe those are the proud marks of a victor.

There’s enough scattered over his flesh that this looks like it might be a permanent hazard of his… lifestyle .

Although there’s no time for me to start thinking about secret societies or what it is that these masked men actually do when they’re not lurking in the shadows. There’s a magnificent dick in my mouth, and I’m getting railed from behind.

My mind is consumed with the heat and the sheer dominance of them. Like they have an unspoken language passing between them while one fucks my throat and the other grips my hips tight and thrusts into me over and over.

This is about them seeking their pleasure and using me, and my body burns up from the inside out. Pure, unadulterated, depraved pleasure is thundering through my veins instead of blood. I’m teetering, tip-toeing on the edge of my orgasm that has been lingering just out of reach.

With each slap of his hips against my ass, my pussy begins to pulse and squeeze around his big cock, and I know he’s not quite as unaffected as he’d like me to believe because his strong fingers sink tighter. Bruising my hips beneath the bunched material of my skirt.

I can’t control it any longer. Moaning loudly now around the length of Copper Mask’s cock, working my tongue against the underside of him, I’m sloppy and desperate, intently focused on breathing through my nose. He’s not going any easier on me; in fact, the sight of the other man fucking me must be driving him wild because he’s swearing and groaning louder now.

The ridges of those piercings hit a magic spot inside, repeatedly.

Holy shit.

Holy, shit.

I’m coming.

My orgasm bursts through me like a runaway train.

Spit runs out of the corners of my mouth, tears fill my eyes, and my pussy clenches in wave after wave around the cock pounding me mercilessly. All that metal rubs so goddamn perfectly against my channel, making my eyes roll back in my head.

Before I can come back down properly into my body, I feel his pace falter. A wickedly dark noise fills the quiet in the room over the sounds of filthy fucking.

“Goddamn. Let me get inside her tight pussy. You can wait for another turn and enjoy watching while I fuck her.” The sinful voice comes from above me.

For a moment I’m not sure if I just created my very own fantasy of where this all might go next. Except, these two men pull out of me, the one previously filling my mouth lets out a dark, raspy noise from somewhere deep inside his muscled chest. That sound right there tells me everything. It wasn’t my imagination; I haven’t been lost in some wicked daydream.

No, this is real and happening, and I’m flipped onto my back with ruthless precision at the same time as my legs get dragged toward the ceiling. Copper Mask tips me backward, rendering me unable to readjust my position. Within a flutter of my pulse point, the back of my head hits the couch cushions, and both of my ankles are held in one strong hand while pressed up against his shoulder. He keeps my legs tightly bound together, and the intensity of how it feels when he shoves inside me is enough to suck all the air out of my lungs.

My hands slap against the leather cushions as I writhe beneath him.

Even though he’s got me trapped and at his mercy in this position, I’m so wet and slick his cock glides in with ease.

“Christ.” He chokes out as his swollen length fills me. With everything made so much tighter seeing as how he’s locked my ankles in place, I can almost feel him hitting the back of my throat as he bottoms out inside my pussy. “Your cunt is gripping my cock like a fist. Dirty fucking flower.”

There’s nothing to do but lose myself in the rapidly building pleasure rolling through me once more. This is so good, too good, clamped tight around his length like this.

How am I ever supposed to enjoy ordinary sex again? Now that I know what this feels like?

I’m so screwed.

Maybe I’ll sell a kidney and try to get myself a ticket for next year.

But then, a torturous realization slams into me with the next deep thrust of his cock. I don’t want to come back and do this with just anyone . I want to find them again and relive this night.

All in the space of time since they locked me in this room, I’ve somehow clung onto these masked strangers with all the fervor of one of those girls in a mafia romance novel where she gets kidnapped and falls for her captor.

Stockholm syndrome has called and wants its pussy back.

The way I’m being pounded into relentlessly at this angle is all about his control. There’s no attempt to touch my clit or my begging nipples, even though both parts of me are crying out for attention. As I bite down on my abused lips, I brace both hands over my head, pressing them hard against the armrest at the opposite end of the long couch from where I was bent over just before. It’s all I can do to hold myself steady as the masked man commanding my pussy is fucking me like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

Each jerk of his hips forward makes my cum-covered breasts bounce, and he pulls all the way out to the tip before shoving back inside so hard I see stars. It’s slower than before, but feels more carnal.

He’s measuring each thrust and dragging out his own pleasure. Using me in the process.

Knowing that the man with the bloodied mask is watching this makes it all the more heightened, with every sensation put under the microscope of his disconcerting gaze.

Then I feel it. His fingers reach under the spot where the other man’s cock is inside me. Wrapping around his length, stroking him in time with each punch forward of his hips. The way he’s touching him makes Copper Mask groan deeply.

“You liked me watching while you fucked her, didn’t you?” Copper Mask asks in that velvety voice that makes my clit pulse with delight. I hear the cockiness in his voice that I feel right through to my fingers and toes with every shift of his length inside me. “Yeah, you always get off when I watch you. I bet you can’t wait to get your big dick inside me while I’m screwing the little whore.”

Oh god. Oh shit.

That nearly sends my entire body into a screaming mess, so I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and try not to moan too loudly.

Which does nothing, really.

Ungodly, pathetic noises still manage to escape my throat.

What’s worse, is that they can both hear me.

All that earns me is a stifled orgasm when I clench around an agonizing emptiness as he takes his hand away and the other man pulls out.

A thousand choices of swear words linger on my tongue, and I want to hurl insults at them like cannonballs. Although self-preservation somewhat kicks in, and rather than give them a good reason to slit my throat, I swallow those bitter curses down.

My pussy clamps down, squeezing around nothing. My clit is swollen, and between my thighs I’m soaking wet.

I’m unceremoniously dragged into a sitting position, and the sensation of cool, firm leather pressing against my skin makes me jolt.

It takes my hazy, lust-crazed brain a moment to understand what I’m looking at in the matching leather armchair situated across the other side of the fireplace.

“I think he’s had enough of just watching .” A taunting voice is at my ear.

He?

I swallow thickly.

Oh, fuck.

Blinking several times, the reality of what I’m seeing sweeps through my body like a thunderstorm, crackling and sizzling with electrified tension.

On the opposite side of the fireplace, directly across from where the three of us have been engaged in sheer depravity, sits an oversized matching armchair.

Filling the space like a conqueror is a man.

One wearing a familiar gold-splattered mask.

The same man who I stumbled into at the very start of the night.

How long has he been sitting in that chair watching me get fucked senseless? There’s a burn of shame in the back of my throat, followed by a fresh wave of arousal darting around my almost naked body.

Seeing him again now, I realize he’s dressed similarly to the others. Black combat boots are spread wide as he takes up the seat as if it were a throne. His large hand wraps one armrest, and fingers drum the leather in a slow rhythm. The other elbow is propped on the cushion behind him, which makes him look like he owns this place and everyone in it.

Jesus Christ. Who are these people?

To make matters worse, my pussy is weeping with delight at the fact he’s here, too. However, my mind isn’t quite so certain. There’s something in this man’s aura that is far colder than the others. He sucks the air out of the atmosphere around him in a way that screams danger … and yet I’m so far gone with this fantasy coming to life that I gleefully turn away from all the warning lights flashing in that particular part of my brain.

Tonight, we’re conveniently forgetting that sensible bitch exists.

Instead, I obediently wait for my next command. My body heats the longer I sit here with my exposed pussy and bare breasts, while working hard to regulate my shuddering breaths.

They can surely hear my heartbeat because it’s a deafening racket, a cacophony of desire between my ears.

“Go on. Let him see how well you can crawl, love.” Two sets of rough hands push me off the couch, leaving me slumped to my knees. In all honesty, landing in this position is perfectly fine by me because my legs are pure jelly at this point, and I’m not sure they’d carry me across the room.

“Show him what a filthy slut you are.” Once again, the teasing voice of Copper Mask is behind me. I don’t know why the other man hasn’t said a word this entire time, but I don’t have time to stop and attempt to make sense of anything in this frenzied experience. Those two are undoubtedly getting a fantastic view of my bare ass while I start to make my way across the carpet on my hands and knees.

“Show him how drenched you are after being stretched by two cocks.”

Those crass words are doing that thing. Being spoken to in this way isn’t supposed to pulse and sing like slutty zaps of excitement inhabiting my veins. I’m not meant to feel a secret thrill of being thoroughly used and filthy and the center of attention, capturing three sets of stranger’s eyes. I keep my own firmly trained on the plush carpet beneath my hands and knees because I’m burning up with the thick coating of shame at how demeaning this is.

Shame? Or excitement?

I can’t tell the difference anymore, and don’t dare examine the truth of what my answer might be.

My breasts are swollen, swinging heavily with each shift of my hands, my red-hot skin still covered in remnants of partially dried cum. No doubt my makeup is smeared all over my face by now, and my lips feel bruised.

Yet, despite how this looks, I’ve never felt more alive, or more right.

I have to press my teeth into my tongue because evidently, now that I’m here in this humiliating position, the truth is revealed. Any attempt at disguising how I really feel is scraped away just like the scratch of carpet against my palms and knees and shins.

There’s nothing about this that I don’t want.

So I continue to crawl, making my way toward the skull-faced emperor seated on his leather throne.

Reaching the spot just in front of his heavy boots, I take up a kneeling position on reflex. Keeping my head bowed. Why? I can’t say. This feels like the type of obedience this man expects and he hasn’t needed to say a word.

Fuck knows what he’s thinking, but I can’t bring myself to look at him just yet. Something about this man makes me immediately want to follow his commands, and I can’t help but keep thinking about that moment from earlier when Rita said he was watching me.

Has he been part of this, the whole time? Remaining hidden in the dark, while these other two men had their fun and toyed with me?

Goosebumps flutter across my skin, and the longer he stays silent, well, all that does is whip me into a frenzy. His intense energy leaves me squirming, squeezing my thighs together, panting like I’ve run a marathon around this estate in nothing but my heels.

Fucking hell, these men are capable of torturing my body with a single, sneering glance.

“Bend over for him, little flower. Go on and spread yourself so he can see just how much you enjoy being filled with cock.”

Oh my god. My cheeks and chest burst into flame. There’s no sense in why I feel compelled to do as they say, but I suck in a ragged breath, then dutifully shift my weight. Spinning around so that my ass is now facing the man in the gold-splattered mask.

When I awkwardly reposition myself, my gaze lands on the spot on the couch where I was spread out between the other two men occupying this room only minutes ago, and the breath rushes from my lungs.

My other two masked strangers are lazing on the couch together, in that familiar way that lovers do. Both of them are shirtless now, and the sight of all that muscle, the shadowed outlines of abs and corded forearms coated in tattoos makes my mouth water. Bloodied Mask has a tilt to his head as his dark eyes hold mine, while the other man is tucked up against his torso. They’re an insanely sexy sight, with powerful legs spread.

Now that I see the larger man half naked, I see how one arm is lined with ink, extending from his pec and shoulder right down to his wrist. Somehow, he’s even more imposing when semi-undressed.

Each one is stroking the other’s cock.

I can already feel the fresh flood of wetness gathering between my thighs.

“Don’t test our patience.” The gravelly voice from behind the copper skull warns me. “Ass up, and put yourself on display for him.”