Chapter 8

T here’s nothing quite like the sensation of voluntarily pressing your own face into the carpet, while reaching behind to hold your pussy open and put yourself under visual scrutiny by a stranger.

Yet, here I am.

My body comes alive as I feel the scalding impact of three sets of eyes on me. Knowing that my two strangers over on the couch are stroking each other’s lengths while I put on this show for them all is a heady rush I can’t deny.

Not knowing what the powerful man behind me thinks about any of this—the man currently being given a front-row seat to every inch of my exposed, needy core in the firelight—just adds to the eroticism of the moment.

The only noises I can hear are my own panting breaths against the carpet fibers below my cheek and the slick sounds of hands moving to jack each other off, punctuated by the sharp pops from the open fire.

I lose track of how long I stay here like this, quietly submitting to his inspection.

It feels like an age. With my shoulder slumped against the rough texture of the carpet and my fingers tight against my slick flesh.

He doesn’t utter a word.

Why that makes my stomach flutter and my pussy clench is beyond me right now. Oh god, he can probably see every time I tighten, and that sends a bolt straight to my clit at the depravity of how truly, how utterly I’m splayed open for him. This whole night is like I’ve been transported out of time and place and there’s absolutely no point trying to make sense of things.

I’ve tumbled through the looking glass, and chosen the cake that says ‘eat me’ without hesitation.

“I don’t think the little slut is satisfied with only two cocks.” A dark chuckle comes from Copper Mask. “That greedy cunt of hers is demanding more.”

He’s doing that thing where he runs his mouth and talks about me like I’m nothing more than an object.

Yes. Yes, I do.

“Go on then. Ride him, slut.”

Oh, fucking hell. Everything blooms in my body, and I fumble to get back upright, damn near shaking. Slowly spinning around, I move so that my body is positioned between those impressive thighs, flanked by his boots.

He’s like a statue, a stern, marble presence looking over me.

I don’t know how to feel, now that he’s stared at my drenched pussy, now that he’s seen every swollen inch of the most intimate part of me. Even more disconcerting is the fact I can’t see his face, and he doesn’t even seem to have shifted in his seat.

Who is this man that he can remain so unmoved by the scene I’ve just painted for him?

Except, as my eyes move up to trace the contour of his thigh muscles hidden beneath black trousers, I see that he’s hard. My tongue darts out to wet my puffy lips, and I’m aching to know what his cock feels like in my hand.

“What are you waiting for? Take him out and fucking ride him.”

The heavy length of him twitches beneath the fabric and my eyes fly up to finally take a proper, longer look at his hidden face. Gold splatters cover those hollow cheekbones of the mask illuminated by the dancing flames, and from behind the eye holes I meet his gaze.

It’s enough to have my heart stall in my chest.

Searing blue eyes, darkened by the night and the shadows of his mask, bore into me with such ferociousness I’m at risk of forgetting who I am and how I’ve ended up amongst this depravity.

If I thought for a second this man was unaffected, or indifferent to what is happening here, then I was entirely wrong. He’s looking at me as if I’m his last meal, and the unexpected hook sinks deep inside my stomach. The assault of renewed awareness of how much I want to please him winds into a vibrant riot of color inside me.

My fingers tremble as I reach forward for his belt. Not knowing if I’m entering an arena, naked and quivering, with a fanged predator on the loose, or whether I’m going to come out of this unscarred.

While I work to free his cock, there’s a pulsing tension in the room from all three men, who keep their focus on my actions. Somehow, even though I’m on my knees, desperate and already marked in the most sordid fashion, I still hold a tenuous thread of power here.

They’re giving me the opportunity to perform for them.

My heart and mind are currently in a standoff over that glimmer of realization.

Perhaps they’re doing this purely for their own selfish reasons. Or…

No, there is no possible way these strangers know a single thing about me or my fantasies or my wants. I can’t keep drifting back to that place where my brain fixated on the way they seemed to know details about me. That’s just my lustful orgasm brain talking. An impossibility I need to forget.

With hesitant fingers, I work his fly, and hook the waistband of his briefs. All while sweating under his disapproving, cool stare. I quickly swallow my nerves, and now, every ounce of my attention is firmly drawn to the impressive length that springs free as I drag the fabric down.

This time, there are no crude words to instruct me, only rippling tension filling the room. My nostrils flare, and my teeth catch my bottom lip as I follow my instinct and weigh the thick, velvety feel of his cock beneath my fingers.

Jesus, this man has a dick worthy of worship.

All three of them do. I’ve stumbled upon the dick jackpot tonight, and the price I’ve had to pay seems insignificant in comparison to the fact I’m about to enjoy the sensation of this man filling me, too.

Gold Mask’s position in his chair—his vast seat that might as well be a leather throne—doesn’t shift, but the size of his erection, the way it swells and thickens in my palm, has me swallowing thickly, already feeling the imprint of what he might feel like to take him in my mouth just like I’ve done for the others.

Now that he’s right here in front of me like this, I want to taste him, too. Though, I haven’t been given permission for that, and in this game I have no right to ask, either. They only tell me what and when and how, and in this dark room with firelight dancing across my bare skin, I’ll gladly keep following their commands.

All thoughts of finding my friend have long since vacated my mind.

I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.

Nor do I want to think about what comes next after I leave here.

Maybe I don’t want to leave here at all.

Except, as much as I refuse to admit morning will eventually arrive, I can’t sit here on the floor indefinitely drooling over this man’s perfect cock, so I begin to shift my weight in an effort to stand up. My legs are definitely still wobbly, but my pussy aches to be filled again.

There’s every possibility this man isn’t going to bother with touching me, judging by the way he’s filling that armchair and surveying me from behind his deathly mask. So, I’m going to have to climb into his lap and do all the work.

Which makes the whole thing unbelievably hotter.

Just as I’m about to clamber into his lap, I sense movement behind me. The flash of a blade appears in front of my eyes, and is at my throat within a second. Copper Mask is right at my ear with a disapproving noise, and his hard cock digs into my lower back.

“Oh, no, you don’t, love. Not that way. Face this way.” Oh, fuck. They really do want me to put on a show. “Make sure we can see exactly how desperate your cunt is to take three of us.”

My entire body flushes down to my toes.

The blade leaves my throat, only to be flipped in his tattooed hand, and plunges down toward my waist. For a second, I’m terrified that blood is about to start pouring from my stomach—that I’m going to be gashed open like some kind of sex-ritual sacrifice. A muffled noise escapes me as my fear climbs up the back of my throat, and then the pressure of the blunt edge digs against the swell of my lower stomach, followed by a forceful tug. The swift, brutal motion makes my hips jerk forward.

Holy shit.

Fabric rips, and that’s the only warning I get, as his knife makes efficient, calculated work of slicing through my top and skirt. It should be terrifying how easily that weapon ridded me of the last vestiges of clothing.

It should be a lot of things… most certainly not something that leaves me gasping and aroused.

“Get on his cock.” Copper Mask is so close, the hard shell of his mask brushes against my ear. Before letting me go, he makes sure to run the tip of his knife back up over the soft curve of my stomach. Up, up, up he allows himself to roam that blade freely, seemingly at his leisure, until the cold kiss of metal settles between the swell of my breasts.

Expert handling of a deadly weapon shouldn’t be turning me on, but the whimper that escapes me tells him everything he needs to know.

Having that blade settled between my cleavage winds my desire higher.

He uses the sharpened tip to flick at one of my aching nipples, and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek so that I don’t simply crumble on the spot and start begging immediately.

The point of contact leaves a sting that burns hot and bright for a moment, followed by a bead of wetness tracking down the curve of my breast. Oh my god, he actually cut me.

One of those tattooed hands reaches around, and with a swipe of his forefinger, he gathers up the ruby-red droplet and hums a deep, dark sound at the sight of my blood.

“I suggest you listen carefully. A taste of blood is far too tempting for men like us.”

With that threat hanging in the air, he leaves me to carry out my instruction.

Now, I’m faced with the task of awkwardly positioning myself in Gold Mask’s lap while completely naked, and he’s still a mystery to me. I want to know what his body looks like, but something tells me this man won’t be so quick to reveal any more of himself. Not his voice, not his face, not his body either, from the looks of it.

Taking a steadying breath, I begin to climb into his lap. The leather armchair is wide and has enough room for me to go about positioning my weight over him.

There’s absolutely nothing graceful or sexy about what comes next.

The entire act feels just as awkward as shoving my cheek into the carpet with my ass in the air, and raw embarrassment curls low in my stomach. My eyes stay low because I’m painfully aware of the fact every inch of my body is being put on display for all three of these men.

Earlier on, I didn’t know that we had an audience. There was nothing complicated about losing myself in the moment of the other two men using my body. Now? Now, I’m intimately acquainted with how their stares feel branding my naked skin.

As I manage to settle on my knees, every part of my body burns up with the riot of emotion and sensation ruling the show. There’s the unmistakable feel of him nudging at my core, the fat head of his cock is right there, and I gasp.

I’m so fucking wet.

In order to do this, I have to slip one hand down, wincing as I brush against my slick pussy lips, revealing the dirty little secret… that I’m insanely turned on.

Each seeking, searching movement of my fingers illuminates a naughty, hidden revelation about my body that I know is there, yet touching that part of myself and actually feeling the evidence confirms it vividly.

As I wrap my grip around his cock, that’s when I feel a genuine reaction for the first time. He jerks slightly as I take him in hand, followed by a hiss from behind his mask.

That singular, clipped noise makes my heart lurch.

Except, I can’t focus on that. I can’t focus on the fact that this stern, guarded man just made a sound when I touched his cock, because the tip of him easily notches at my entrance as I guide him there.

I’ve been holding my breath the entire time.

My pussy is already fluttering wildly in anticipation of taking him inside me.

Oh. My. God.

There’s no way I can fit all of him inside at this angle. I’m going to have to shift backward. I’m going to have to reposition myself. I’m going to have to…

He strikes before I do anything else. Rough fingers grab my hips, and Gold Mask shoves my body down as he thrusts up into me. His length fills me right to the hilt, and a loud, porny moan erupts past my lips. It’s against all their rules, but I can’t fucking help it. I simply can’t, even if it means they don’t let me out of here alive.

Fuck me. These three men are going to ruin me forever.

My breasts bounce with the force of his thrust. He’s so deep, I clench around him, teetering on the edge of coming after the way this entire night has edged me relentlessly.

A slick noise, mixed with a deep groan, draws my attention.

The man with all the wicked words and the copper mask is between the other man’s legs. While I’m kneeling here in such a filthy, exposed position, they’re having their own fun. His mask is pushed back on his head, but I still can’t see anything except for the back of him. There’s no mistaking that he’s taking my other stranger down his throat. I’m feeling the ghost of his thick, pierced cock on my own tongue while swallowing down all the wanton noises that want to climb past my swollen lips.

Above him, the giant leans back, thighs spread wide. It’s impossible to know his reaction, as there’s still no sound coming from him. No words. No noises or grunts of pleasure to indicate what he’s experiencing with a hot mouth wrapped around his dick and those rungs of silver barbells.

Although he might be resolutely silent, his eyes are fixated on me from behind his mask. That much I can take in, crystal clear, as our eyes lock with one another’s from across the room.

This is so fucking hot. I’m overwhelmed and out of my head with pleasure.

It’s too much. The way he’s staring at me like that? I’m a coward, and all I can do is slam my eyes shut and lose myself to it all.

My hips snap and roll as I grind down in a rhythm that drives me toward the precipice once more.

“Look at how wet her cunt is. She’s dripping all over your balls.”

Copper Mask is talking to the man who has me impaled on his cock, but his voice has a snarl behind it. When my eyes pop open, seeking out the point where the other two are positioned on the couch, I see why.

God, seeing the other two look so powerful together—getting just a single glimpse of their interaction—I, without question, want to watch my two strangers in front of me fuck.

I want to see it all, and would melt into a puddle of blissed-out ecstasy if this god-like specimen of a man currently stretching my pussy was touching me at the same time.

The voyeur in me has found her voice, and she’s a damn insistent bitch.

Whimpers keep dripping from my lips as I work myself up and down Gold Mask’s cock, trying to maintain a steady pace, shifting my hips forward and back. At the same time, Copper Mask draws back, popping off the other man’s length with a slick noise. They exchange some kind of silent look between them, and I see him reach up with one hand to push his mask back down before flopping up onto the couch beside the other man.

“Did we say you could stop?” Those hazel eyes burn into me from where he’s just gotten up off his knees. At the sound of his gruff voice, my body jolts. My pussy clenches, and the equally silent figure behind me responds by digging tighter into my already bruised hips with his fingers.

I’m writhing on his length, and he’s so fucking deep inside me there are stars behind my eyelids. White-hot liquid pleasure that feels like rocket fuel floods my veins. The fact he’s still wordless, soundless, but using me this way is adding to the already intoxicating mix of shame and near-orgasmic delight.

Copper Mask’s tattooed hands work both their erections, while he tilts his skull face to one side taking in my appearance.

“Don’t think we’re done with you yet. Filthy little flower.”

I feel the man inside me throb, and my walls flutter around his length.

The way I’m so keyed up and desperate leaves me tumbling closer to the edge of another orgasm. But it’s as if the man with the gold mask can hear my thoughts, because his almost painful hold on my hips changes. He yanks me off him, almost as if he can’t bear to have me near any longer.

The suddenness of being discarded leaves me swaying on unsteady feet beside his chair.

As I am pushed away, forced to leave him and his gorgeous cock I want to continually explore, he lets out a dark snarl. I don’t know what to make of any of it.

Why the fuck that primal noise coming out of a masked stranger makes my body flood with heat—rather than want to turn tail and flee this room—is probably worthy of a whole therapy session in and of itself.

However, there’s no time for those thoughts; my skull-masked stranger is on his feet behind me, and I feel the grip of his thick fingers around my upper arm. My nakedness stands out in stark contrast to the way these men’s identities are still concealed, along with the heavy boots and dark trousers they all still wear.

I’m so much more fucked up than I thought. This night has blown any fantasy I could have come up with on my own completely out of the water.

The next second, I’m shoved forward to land on my hands and knees between the legs of the two men on the couch.

As I look up at them, they both peer back at me with heads tilted, mockingly so, and their haunting skull faces glow in the firelight.