“You’re a good little cock-sucker, little pet, he says, his hand stroking my hair as he pushes himself all the way down until I’m almost choking on him. He holds himself there for a moment, hips jerking, and his other hand reaches down to lift up his tight, heavy balls. “Run your tongue over those, pet,” he murmurs. “Oh fuck yes, that’s so fucking good. How does she feel, Cayde?”
“Tight and so fucking wet,” Cayde groans. “Christ, I missed this pussy.”
Something about them talking above me while I’m stuffed full of their cocks and quite literally vibrating, pushes me over the edge. My screaming moan of pleasure is muffled by Dean’s cock, my eyes widening as I thrash on the desk, gripping the edges of it hard as I clamp down around Cayde, my entire body tightening as an orgasm like never before sweeps over me. I’d never known what it could feel like to have a toy vibrating against my clit while I was fucked from both ends—hell, I would never have eventhoughtto imagine it before all of this. But it feels so fucking good. It’s a pleasure like I’ve never felt, everywhere, as if every inch of my body is being stimulated. When the orgasm starts to fade, and I feel the vibrator still buzzing against my too-sensitive clit, I realize why Cayde sounded so threatening earlier.
Maybe it is possible to have too much of a good thing.
I’m still craving more when the fourth hits, while Dean pushes himself into my mouth, again and again, enjoying the pressure of my lips and the feeling of my tongue running over his length while Cayde thrusts into me. I scream out that orgasm around Dean’s cock, and then suddenly they switch places while I’m still hovering in a sort of suspended state of pleasure, my whole body twitching.
“It’s too much,” I whisper helplessly, looking at Cayde. “I can’t take anymore.”
“That’s the punishment,” he says, grinning. “You can, and you will. You wanted to come, Athena. So let’s see how many times you can.”
When he stuffs himself into my mouth, he’s coated in my arousal, tasting more of me than of himself. But I’m past caring, past anything except the rolling waves of pleasure that are on the edge of pain. As Dean thrusts into me hard, I come again. Now it’s not so much different orgasms as one continuous one, ebbing and flowing over me, until all I can do is cling to the desk and gasp, moaning as Cayde fists his hand into my hair and thrusts into my throat.
I want it to stop. I want it to keep going. I want to rip the vibrator off of me, and I want to keep it there, clenched between my legs, making me come until I’m almost crying. I know now why Dean was going to tie me up. I have to force myself to keep clinging to the desk as my body shakes with wave after wave of devastating climax until I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.
“I’m close,” Dean groans from behind me. “I can’t hang onto it much longer.”
“Me too.” Cayde thrusts himself into my throat once more, hand hard on the back of my head, and then pulls himself free.
I’m so dazed that I don’t even notice at first that the vibrations have stopped. As the guys step back, I’m a wet shaky mess, and I hear Cayde’s order dimly at first.
“Kneel on the rug, Athena.”
I can’t walk. I won’t be able to make it. But somehow, tottering like a baby deer, I manage to make it to the thick, soft rug, dropping to my knees.
They both stride towards me, Dean and Cayde, stiff cocks in their hands, pointed at me like weapons as they advance, and I feel a tremor of arousal, but just a small one. My body is past the point of being able to orgasm any longer, and I sway in place, barely able to stay upright long enough for them to finish.
“Open your mouth, little Saint,” Cayde orders, his voice dark and deep with lust, and another shudder of desire sweeps over me, my pussy still trickling arousal even in my wrung-out state at the sound of him demanding my submission, to take what he wants to give me.
Obediently, I do as he asks. I feel the tip of Dean’s cock rubbing against my cheek as he pushes it forward, Cayde’s shoving past my lips, demanding that I suck it again, wrap my lips around the firm head. He tastes salty against my tongue, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes me as he pushes himself a few inches into my mouth, despite how exhausted I am.
“Christ, she still wants it.” Dean is rubbing his shaft hard and fast, and he elbows Cayde. “Let me in for a second. Fuck, I’m about to burst.”
Cayde’s cock is suddenly replaced by Dean’s, the ridged head rubbing over my tongue. Then I hear both men groan aloud, their hands stiffening as they point themselves at my face in unison.
“Fuck—I’m going to come,fuuuck—”
The first shot of Dean’s cum coats my tongue at the same moment that Cayde’s hits my cheek, and then it’s a blur, the hot spray of it on my tongue and lips and forehead and cheeks and chin. There’s so much of it, enough for me to believe that they haven’t been with anyone else, touched anyone else, that I’m all they want, their obsession and their only pet, and for some reason that sends another shudder of desire through me as my face is marked over and over again with their cum.
“Lick me clean, little pet,” Dean says, and I lean forward, running my tongue over them both as they push their still-hard cocks towards my lips, licking away the last drops until there’s nothing left and they both start to soften.
“I’ll take her back to my room tonight,” Cayde says. “You can help me clean her up if you want, but I get her tonight. You’ve had plenty of nights.”
They’re really going to share me,I think dimly as Cayde lifts me into his arms.He’s carrying me. Before, they would have left me in here to get myself upstairs or told me to wear their cum to bed.
But instead, Cayde carries me up the stairs in his broad arms, wrapped around me as he holds me to his chest, all the way to the bathroom. Dean follows him in, helping him undress me, but then he steps back.
“Getting in the shower with you is a step too far, bro,” he says with a laugh. “I’ll see you in the morning. Take good care of our little pet.”
The last sentence sounds both like a command and a warning, but if Cayde takes offense to it, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he just turns on the taps for the shower, helping me in as the water turns hot. As he gently begins to wash my face with a soft, warm washcloth, rinsing it clean and then soaping it up to wash the rest of me, I can’t help but wonder in my tired, dazed mind if this is some kind of penance to him. If by doing this, he’s trying to make up for all the weeks of torment, for not being there in the aftermath of the party, when I was kidnapped.
I’m too tired to figure out if I can accept it, if it’s enough. If I can forgive him completely when he was so horrible to me for so long. If there can be something more between him and me than just lust.
He seems so different now. The Cayde I knew before wouldn’t have cleaned me up like this, wouldn’t have cared for me after a punishment. But how long will it last? Is it just guilt, or is he really trying to be different, to make a change?
I can’t help but lean into him, though, as he runs the soothing washcloth over my skin. His chest is broad and warm, and I’m so tired, wrung out by the pain and pleasure and adrenaline and orgasms. I’m almost falling asleep standing there, and I let out a sigh as he helps me out of the shower, toweling me dry and lifting me into his arms again to carry me to bed.