Page 119 of Lesson In Honesty

One of Mack’s hands slid over to cup her clamped breast, toying with the crown, while the other wandered down her front as though taking the scenic route. He teased her folds, circling her clit until her hips shifted restlessly, then dipped a finger into her entrance with atsk. “I think we’ve got an anxious pixie, Liam. Good thing I brought the lube.”

What on God’s green earth were they planning? Suspicious, Sierra watched Liam’s every move as he reached behind himself and came up with the familiar black bottle of lubricant. Pouring a small amount on his fingers, he coated them thoroughly.

“We’ve talked about fisting before,” he said conversationally, replacing Mack’s fingers with his own. “It’s never really been something we’ve explored.”

She squeaked, shaking her head as her voice fled.

“That’s not your punishment,” he continued in a reassuring tone, massaging lube around her entrance until she was slick with false desire. “Not quite, anyway.” He eased a single finger inside her. “But you are going to have to open up for me, minx.”

What didnot quite fistingcomprise of, exactly?

One finger, two? Half a hand? The whole hand with some random loophole that excluded it from the fisting category?

How many times had she heard the story of Anarchy’s engagement? It was long before Sierra first set foot in Avalon,but Archie seemed to have fond memories of being pierced and fisted.

Obviously, her friend was a few eggs short of an omelet.

She had to be, marrying a sadist and raising a brood of adorable but riotous children with him; there was a high probability their kids were either going to be murderers, scientific geniuses, or politicians when they grew up.

The thought of children made Sierra sad again.

Obligingly, she wiggled slightly lower to ease the awkward sting of Liam’s second finger pushing in with the first. Two was quite a nice fit; Liam’s hands were big, his fingers appropriately sized. They filled her without too much of a stretch.

“That’s a good girl. Relax and enjoy it, Sierra.” He kissed the top of her bent knee, manipulating her core with gentle thrusts. “See what I mean about her nipples, Mack? Beautiful shade of red, right?”

“My favorite color.”

Pulling his fingers out to the tips, Liam liberally added more lube. A third finger was coated and then pushed into her. “You know some of her sweet spots already, but there are a few she doesn’t like me to find. There’s one between her shoulder blades that turns her into a limp mess.”

Oh God, he had to divulge everything?

“Really? It’d be rude not to go exploring. Hands behind your own neck now, pixie, and lean forward a bit.”

Would he like her to become double-jointed while she was at it? She moaned, protesting the pinch of too many digits occupying a tight space. They were encroaching into Merrick territory now, and that wasn’t somewhere she wanted to go again in a hurry.

She dug her nails into her nape, hating her stomach muscles as they strained to keep her from folding in half. If Mack found that spot, she was doomed. It was the detonation button for everynerve ending she owned, and pressing it decimated her system to the point of oblivion.

She loved it, hated it, feared it.

And, of course, Mack hit it almost on the first try, dragging his nails lightly down her back, starting just below her hands, following the line of her spine. Her upper body contorted, attempting to deflect his touch, bowing her shoulders.

“X marks the spot, pixie,” he crooned. His tongue swiped over her skin, striking the button again, and moisture spilled over Liam’s hand.

“Again,” her Daddy demanded.

The pressure between her legs grew considerably, another finger joining the fray. Jesus, he was really straddling the line between fisting and not fisting, wasn’t he? A very fine, very precarious—

Mack set his thumb directly on the erogenous zone and rubbed in tight, strong circles. He stole her control, her thoughts, her voice, until all she could do was shudder hard enough to spark an orgasm and squeak in high, staccato bursts like an angry guinea pig.

“Stop,” she gasped, the word half-forming so it was nothing but gibberish.

The wide bridge of Liam’s hand wedged into her entrance, stretching her past reason. Even the cool flood of lube didn’t help. Neither did the rhythmic squeeze of her pelvic muscles crushing his fingers as the orgasm tore through her, sucking him deeper.

“Lean back, babygirl. Mack’s got you. Just take a little more for me.”

As soon as Mack’s thumb lifted, she sagged. Would have slumped forward if not for his hand on her breast, keeping her upright before she headbutted Liam on her way down.

“What does it look like, pixie?” He nipped her earlobe, shocking her senses back online. “My favorite pussy, swallowing her Daddy’s hand. Are you bruising his fingers with our tight cunt? It’s ours now, Sierra. It belongs to us.Youbelong to us, and we to you.”

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