Page 64 of The Deeper Game
“I won’t answer your stupid questions,” I said.
I could feel Zeus watching me from under his hood, and I heard Thor rustling around back there. I felt my nipples tighten under the wimpy fabric.
“Hard, then,” Odin said.
I gripped the smooth knobs. My blood raced.
A finger lifted my skirt from behind and tucked it up into the bodice of my outfit. I could feel the cool night breeze on my bare ass. One finger trailed down my tender ass skin, tracing a lazy design of some sort. It was like my entire soul focused on that finger, what it would do next, where it would travel.
A delicious warmth spread through my nether regions as I yearned for the finger to travel further southward and inward.
Odin let go of my hair.
It was here I realized I was panting.
Crunching footsteps sounded as Zeus approached. Even when he was near, I couldn’t see his face from under the hood. They’d positioned me so that the moon would be behind them when they stood in front of me. Unlike me, my hunky bank robbers knew exactly where the moon would be when.
Zeus said, “We’re going to have some fun with you unless you tell us to stop, and I think you know what that means.”
Mississippi, he meant.
He touched something to my belly through the fabric. Because of the way my head was trapped, I couldn’t tip my head to look down and see what it was, which made it all the more exciting in a scary way.
I thought it might be a stick until he brought it up near my face and touched my cheek with it.
A riding crop.
My eyes widened.
“Do you? Do you know what it means?” he persisted.
They’d never used one of those before. “Yes,” I gasped.
“Good.” He walked back to where he’d originally stood and set the crop against a tree. Then he lifted his tunic, just enough for me to see his huge package barely contained within the stretchy green fabric. It was all wrong in a way that turned me on.
“Get the elf ready for me,” he said. An actual line from one of the cartoons.
“Oh my God,” I panted as one of my guys pressed against me from behind, sending waves of feeling through me.
A hand snaked around my hip.
Fingers parted my hot folds, delving in, caressing my clit.
I closed my eyes, melting with desire.
The finger moved and stroked through the hot slickness between my legs—slowly. Excruciatingly slowly.
I tried to move against it, to create some pressure, but my guys could be a little evil.
My legs strained to come together, but the spreader bar prevented it.
Thor—it had to be him—was driving me a little wild.
Another hand reached around and brushed my nipple.
“She’s ready,” Thor said.
Zeus reached up as if he might be about to remove his hood.
