Page 84 of Arran's Obsession
He wasn’t talking to me.
“Beautiful,” a female voice replied.
“So perfect.” Another woman.
“Nice tits on the lass,” a man commented. “Ye hear that, everyone? Perfect tits. Not too small and definitely not too big.”
Oh fuck.
The accent gave him away. The second guy was Shade, Arran’s man, still here and watching everything. Why had he let him? Why did I? Yet Arran didn’t stop. He glided his fingers inside me then spread them. Pulled them out slowly with an indecent sound.
God, this was everything I’d wanted from him, except not with others involved. It wasn’t right, even if I couldn’t open my mouth to say. Lips took my nipples again, and Arran worked me in repeated actions, using my arousal to swirl over my clit. As he did, big hands took my waist from behind.
Shade, definitely.
“She’s begging to be fucked,” he teased.
Arran’s grip on my pussy tightened. I cried out. Both men swore.
“We can swap places, if ye like.” Shade again. “In case ye need an expert hand to get her there.”
“Even think of her cunt and I’ll kill you,” my man retorted.
Shade drew his hands up my ribcage until he cupped my breasts, better offering them for the women to suck.
All I knew was the rising coil of heat winding inside me. How it lit fuses throughout my body, every limb infected, every inch of skin alight. I needed this so much. Everything. I wanted Arran to fuck me but not with his friend here, too. Not with the women witnessing our depravity.
In the same breath, fear crept in that he might stop. Deny me as punishment.
Again and again, he thrust his hands in a rhythm, hitting a spot inside me. Shade still held my sensitive breasts, the women tonguing and pinching my nipples.
An orgasm neared, a hot flame about to explode.
Bowing my back, I keened out, the impact of finally getting close after so long destroying my mind. The only touch I wanted to feel was Arran, but I’d take it. Anything to get there. My body tightened, so ready to be satisfied. So desperate for completion.
Then he stopped. All of them did.
Hands and mouths left my skin. I panted, swivelling my head to listen, but no one made a sound.
“What are you doing?” I begged. “What’s happening?”
A presence moved closer. I couldn’t be sure who.
Material rustled, and then something pressed against my core, spearing over me and getting wet. A dick. Oh God. Heat painted me, desperation clinging to my every breath.
But whose was it? Surely Arran’s.
Except I wasn’t sure. He didn’t say.
Fear laced my thoughts.
The man slid his thick cockhead up and down my entrance, then punched his hips and entered me.
I groaned, throbbing around his thick intrusion. My blood pulsed in my ears, so loud it almost deafened me. I strained to hear anything from the person inside me but could pick up nothing. No one else touched me. No other finger ghosted over my flesh. Everything was concentrated on the dick that spread me wide.
It was almost everything I’d wanted. So close, except for the fact I couldn’t be sure it was Arran taking me for the ride. I was ninety-nine percent sure he wouldn’t let another man near, but that one percent…
The owner of the dick bucked upwards, ruining my thoughts. Unbidden, another moan flew from my lips. It felt too good. Blindfolded and constrained, I could only surrender now.