Page 31 of Pretty Little Prey
She bit her tongue so hard, it bled a little.
“Still not willing to admit the word ‘slut’ turns you on?” he asked.
She gazed at the other men for help, but they offered no assistance.
“Moving on, then,” Bastille said. His palm skimmed down her stomach, which twitched as he grazed over it. He did not stop until the tips of his fingers hovered just above her slit. Just above where her bundle of nerves pulsed for him. “Should we talk about your slutty little pussy now, Princess?”
A broken whimper clawed out of her throat without permission.
“Did all the blood rush from your tits to your pussy, baby? Is that where you’re aching? Tell us.”
She pressed her lips tightly shut, not trusting herself with a single word right now. She was too turned on. She blinked open her eyes and bit back another moan at what she saw.
Kobe’s right hand had fallen to the crotch of his sweatpants. He rubbed the large bulge of his erection through the material as he gazed at her. Sly was doing the same, teasing his hard-on at the visual of Bastille pleasuring her.
Nikolai’s red eyes burned from across the room as he licked a protruding fang in his mouth.
Luna jumped and squealed as Bastille slapped his hand sharply against her pussy.
“Focus, Princess. I asked you a question.”
How was she supposed to remember what he asked when her body was lighting up like this? She felt like a forest fire—hot, uncontrollable, and about to be destroyed and left as ash.
“Oh no, is our little slut too far gone to speak? To do anything but moan?” Bastille rasped in her ear as he—ever so lightly—teased the top of her sex, his fingertips barely making contact with her throbbing bud. “Does our little slut need to be fucked?”
“Uahgahuhhahh.” The sound that came from her was utter gibberish as Bastille firmly gave a first stroke over her clit. White light blurred her vision before her head fell back against his chest.
“That’s it… Melt for me like a good girl.”
She followed his instructions, bucking her hips into his hand. He slid his finger further down to rub circles over the entrance of her pussy. The heel of his palm ground against her clit at the same time, and she moaned again.
“Fuck,” one of the other men cursed, but she was too lost to lift her head and see who.
“Your drenched little pussy is soaking my hand, Princess.” Bastille’s evil grin was audible in his smug voice. “I think maybe you do like the word ‘slut.’ I think it turns you on to be made into a little puddle of foggy lust. You let your abductor touch you like this?”
“Oh Gods,” she whimpered.
He pressed a long, thick finger forward until it pushed past the tight ring of her entrance. Her inner muscles quickly clamped down around the intrusion, squeezing the digit as if it begged for more.Want him to fill me up.
“This slutty pussy needs to be filled,” he said, reading her dirty mind. “You want my cock to stretch inside you, don’t you?” He plunged a second finger inside her and curled them until he stroked a special spot of sensitive ribbed flesh.
“Ugahuhahh.”
He teased her for two full minutes before slipping his fingers from her wetness. At the lack of his touch, she wailed with need. One of the men grunted in response, but Bastille made no quick move to finger her again.
Instead, he slowly lifted his fingers, damp with her essence, to his mouth. He licked her from his skin, and her entire body quivered. She did not even find it inside herself to worry if he could taste that she was a prey.
“Please,” she cried out, desperate for release.
Using his super-predator speed, he dove both hands to her aching pussy, unleashing her throat from his grip. He pinched her clit and sank three fingers inside her, fingering her at such a ferocious pace, her vision blurred once more.
“Fuck,” she yelled out, shaking so hard, she might have fallen if Bastille did not have her caged against him.
“Now, tell me,” Bastille purred as her pussy convulsed around his fingers again and again, building up to a powerful orgasm that was sure to make Luna black out. “What is a slut, Princess?”
“Mmmm.” Her hips undulated, meeting every thrust of his hand. Electric currents invaded her veins as coils of tension swirled in her abdomen.
“Is a slut someone who feels good?”
