Page 143 of Pretty Little Prey
She lost her train of thought as a groan wrenched itself from deep within Daxton’s chest. Sweat dripped from his wide, tense chest as he pushed—or rather, Bastille pushed—his cock farther inside her. The length of him eased into her, and her hot inner muscles clamped around him in such a tight, vise-like grip, it was difficult to feed his shaft any deeper.
So full.
“How does he feel, lamb?” Bastille asked.
“Good,” she moaned out, her pussy pulsing around him again.
“And how does she feel, dragon?”
A low, rumbling growl.
As Bastille guided him inside her a little more, Daxton’s thick muscular arms twitched and the tendons in his neck strained.
By the time his cock was fully sheathed in her, Luna’s back arched off the bed, pressing her hips firmly to his. She was murmuring something that sounded like a dead language. Or made-up language. Or…it didn’t matter.
Because Daxton filled her to the hilt.
She cursed, breathless and writhing on his shaft. In the midst of her heat, her stomach contracted, and her pussy tightened even more around him, seeming to try to suck him in deeper. Warmth and awareness prickled at her every pore.So full.
“Ready for your first round of fucking, lamb?” Bastille asked her.
Her hair tangled in knots at her head as she shook with pent up need. “Please,please, please.” She clawed at Daxton’s chest.
“Get her arms,” Bastille told one of the men behind her, and someone secured her wrists and held them back, behind her head, toward the headboard of the bed. “You’re going to take all our cocks by the end of the night, like a good little slut for us, aren’t you, Luna?”
“Yes!”
“You like the idea of us thrusting inside you? Of being full of our cum? Of it dripping out of your pretty little pussy?”
Her eyes went crossed at his words, her sex squeezing tighter around Daxton.
“You want to be held down and fucked within an inch of your life—” Bastille cut off. Even Daxton’s low grunts waned.
Because Luna’s pheromones spiked the air once more. But this was…new. Somehow more intense.
Like a radio frequency that blanked out all ability to think.
This wave of her strew wafted out, knocked the air from their lungs, and spiced every breath with unbearable lust. Lips parted and nostrils flared. Their cocks swelled even larger, filling with the need to spend inside her. Toclaim. At some point, the men must have removed their clothing because now their bare erections brushed their hard, flat stomachs and glistened with pre-cum.
Something snapped in the brains of the predator shifters.
Reduced to grunting cavemen. Horny animals.
Bastille’s eyes glazed over.
Daxton broke free of Bastille’s grip andrutted.
He speared her pussy onto his reddened, engorged cock, pistoning in and out with such a frantic pace that each thrust launched her body further up the mattress. His thick thighs flexed with each harsh movement. His hips surged forward again and again, urging his cockhead to rub against the deepest parts of her. Mewls of pleasure seeped from her lips like pornographic music.
Under hooded eyelids, Daxton’s large pupils were black holes, as soulless as a demon’s.
“Mate. Rut. Need.”
His constant, punishing pace drove her toward a powerful orgasm. A constant, steady pounding rhythm that made her teeth chatter and her limbs shake. Her head tilted back. Her mouth fell open on a silent scream as he just kept drilling into her again and again, jackhammering inside her. Her heart raced as heat expanded across her chest, flushing her skin. A sort of weightlessness began in her abdomen, coiling and twisting tighter and tighter.Yes, Gods, yes—
He was yanked out of her and thrown across the room.
She might have screamed if, in the next instant, Bastille had not appeared on top of her. He claimed the spot Daxton had been, his black eyes just as glassy. Just as mindless. A true predator, he wrapped a hand around her throat, collaring her, and licked his lips with a serpentine tongue.
