“Haven’t we been ourselves since the beginning?”
I return Bastian's hard length to lay across his abdomen and take the blade to trace over the throbbing veins. “I don’t know. Have you?”
He’s shaking beneath me.
“Pleasure is pleasure,malyshka.Pleasure is pleasure.” Con bends a knee and holds himself out for Bastian to grip. Dante does the same and as they seek their pleasure, I find my own.
Con and Dante both slowly rock into Bastian’s hands. I crawl up Bastian’s body, my heat mixing with his. When my wet channel meets the thickness of his cock, I guide the length to my opening and slowly sink over him.
“Oh, my beautiful birdie. Who has become the hunter and prey now?” His Russian words are smooth and dark like thick smoke over leather. He’s referring to our first night when they chased me upstairs.
His heavy falls press against my toy. The thickness of the plug in my ass and his shaft filling my pussy is almost too much.
His hands grow still. “Don’t stop. Work them for me. It’s so beautiful. I wish you could see what I see.”
Con moves to lift his sash.
“Nyet, moy lyubovnik.” No, my lover. “Keep them on until later. Please.”
His growl is primal and reaches into me. He’s losing his patience. Good.
“Laila, I can’t hold out much longer. I need to feel you.”
“Wait, brother. She has a blade at my throat and my cock hostage in her sweet pussy. Fucking wait a minute.” Bastian releases his brothers and grips my hips, slamming into me.
I nick his flesh and a bead of blood pebbles where the blade punctured flesh. “Look what you did.” I curl the tip of my tongue over the drop of blood and I can feel him grow impossibly harder inside me. “Mm. Impatience is a dangerous trait.” I clench my pussy and draw off his length only to keep the head spreading my folds around him.
I draw an invisible line over Bastian’s heart, up his chest, and press it into the life-giving vein at the side of his throat. With my lips on his ear, I whisper, “Bleed for me and I’ll bleed for you.”
This time I lean into the blade and leave a welt over flesh, loving the sight of blood beading over the wound.
“Fuck, Laila.” Harsh fingers dig into my hips and I am driven hard over his throbbing cock.
I scream out and rack my nails over his hard abs. He wraps his arms around me and I no longer have control over my arms or body. The knife forgotten. My strength is no match for his and when he forces me over him and claims my lips, I give him what he wants.
What we both want.
Hands move over me as I lose myself in Bastian.
Fingers graze the length of my back, my ass and don’t stop until I feel the tug on the butt plug.
I press into the seeking hands and hear a low rumble of appreciation.
Bastian breaks the kiss. I’m in another man’s arms, my mouth, my tongue, my very soul being claimed. This time by Con. Not only can I tell by the taste of him without opening my eyes, but by the way he likes to grip my hair and take control.
My Con. I’m no longer sure who is in control here and for the moment that’s okay. An unexpected benefit of the blindfolds is their carefully masked emotions show through. Ironic as it is, the one strip of cloth they each wear gives me insight into their true feelings. I don’t need to see their eyes to know they love me. It’s in their touches. The gentle strokes and responses.
I look down to see Bastian’s blood smeared over my breasts. I take the knife and draw a matching cut just above my right breast.
“Arg,” I cry out. I press his palm over the blood and smear it into his. “Blood for blood, lover.”
“Let us taste you.”
I reach back and guide Dante to my fresh wound and then Con. Both drag the pad of their warm, wet tongue over the flesh.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” Con rasps, my blood on his lips. “You’ve married us all. You will not fly away.”
Dante grips my chin and takes my mouth in a hard kiss. “You’re ours now. Blood in, little birdie.”