21. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Xavier

Emmy's wet cunt squeezes around my cock, and I have to clench my teeth so hard the molars almost crack to prevent myself from ending my night way too fucking early. She is so goddamn wet and, by my guess, diving headfirst into subspace—if she isn't already there.

And the way she made herself bleed for me?

She's goddamn perfect.

Instead of pulling out, I rock Emmy forward on her knees so that her face buries into Derek's crotch, allowing him to feel the sensation of his entire cock disappearing into that amazing wet warmth. With her arms still bound, all that's holding her up is her own core strength and cocks filling her at either end.

And since she became fuck drunk while we abused her mouth, her core strength has most likely gone to crap. She's basically a rag doll between the two of us and, fuck me, if that doesn't make me rock fucking hard.

I pull her back onto me, burying myself in her to the hilt, gritting my teeth. To gain more control over her movements and to support her more, I release her hips and grip her restrained forearms.

I pull back on her arms, effectively levering her up just the slightest amount, and the new angle allows me to push in deeper. My cock twitches inside of her as she moans and grinds her ass back into me.

Easing her forward again, I lower her back onto Derek. When I glance at him, his eyes are trained on where my body joins hers. The fucker loves to watch, which works for the rest of us because we love people watching our handiwork. Most of the time, at least.

But when I'm going deep into my kink, I prefer to do that without an audience. Most people are too . . . squeamish to handle it.

Deciding to fuck with him, I pull Emmy up so that she barely has any of his cock in her mouth and then pick up my speed, hammering into her. The backing sound of the music video playing on the TV is accompanied by the obscene slapping of skin on skin and the ball-tightening sounds that flow freely from Emmy's mouth.

Derek's expression hardens, the knuckles of the hand in Emmy's hair turning white. Her hair shimmies around her back with every thrust, and she puts up zero resistance, even though I can feel the tip of my cock nudging at the top of her core.

Electricity races down my spine, and I come to a halt, pulse racing as I concentrate on my breathing and will my orgasm away. Not yet. Sweat forms across my forehead, and it's taking every piece of my self-control not to thrust even just one more time.

Pulling out is going to be hard enough.

When I'm sure that I won't embarrass myself, I back out and slowly lower Emmy back down. Derek gathers her hair to one side and guides her head to rest on his thigh. Her pupils are blissed out and her cheeks are pink.

Derek's rigid cock is covered in saliva, and her lips glisten with it. I smirk at the mess that surrounds the opening of his pants.

He's the only one of us still dressed, since Hudson, Darcy, and I took breaks between blow jobs to remove our clothing.

As I stand and step away, I stroke my cock several times, enjoying the slick feel of Emmy's wetness beneath my hand. I have to grip my balls as I twist the piercing at my tip, enjoying the ripple of nerves in the head.

When Emmy used her tongue to play with the metal, I lost all ability to function. Yeah, women have played with my piercing before; it's always a party favorite. But no one has ever sucked and licked it the way Emmy did. I was transfixed by the cut on her lip as she sent fire shooting up and down my dick with nothing more than her tongue and lips.

Mine.

The word has been playing on repeat in my head, booming from the darkest corners of my mind. As Hudson takes my place and lines up his cock, slipping inside of her with one smooth stroke, images flash across my mind.

Emmy on my padded table, wrists in cuffs near her head, ankles cuffed to the bottom edge, knees forced apart with a spreader. Lines of red along her thighs.

My gut tightens and my blood burns in my veins. Her skin is clean of tattoos and piercings. To see my marks fucking up the perfectly smooth, creamy flesh is a torment I'd gladly put myself through.

Hudson draws a particularly loud moan from Emmy, and a new vision of her ripples across my mind.

She's restrained, face-first against the St Andrew's Cross, her clothes hanging in tatters around her body. Her gorgeous brown hair is pulled to the side, and her head hangs against the cross as my cum runs down her thighs after I've fucked her with my knife against her throat, whispering to her that I'd slice right through her neck if she made a sound. That I'd continue to fuck her as her blood ran down over the both of us. But she'd be so good for me, keeping all of her scared noises inside, letting me rail her until I'm done.

Hudson drapes himself over Emmy's back and restrained arms, and slides his arms around her waist, pulling her upright until they are chest to back. His cock is still tunneling in and out of her, but now her breasts bounce for all of us to see, and he tweaks her nipples. Another scene appears in my head, and I fucking groan.

Emmy bound with her arms above her head, freshly pierced nipples blushing red as blood rolls down the sides of her breasts, a vibrator pressed up hard against her clit as she begs me to turn it off, head thrashing from side to side.

I turn away from the tableau in front of me, inhaling through my nose and holding it for four seconds. Holy fuck, just the thought of slipping one of my needles . . . Fuck. I have to stop thinking about shit that isn't going to happen.

This is just one night.

We all agreed.

Her body will never be decorated with my marks. My metal will never be threaded through her skin.

She'll never slate my bloodlust.

I'll never be able to lock her in my dungeon, where no one can hear her scream.

Emmy will never be truly mine.

I only get her for tonight.

Only tonight.