Page 4 of The Show
Disgusting. And yet…
I swallowed, the way Edward had taught me, but I couldn’t manage it all, and some of his seed spilled across my tongue. Instinctively, I pushed the sharp-tasting cum from my mouth, and as it drippled across my chin to my chest, my bodyresponded to his pleasure with a rush of heat between my own legs.
I shouldnotbe aroused by this.
I was.
As he pulled out, the stranger petted my head, his voice a low chuckle. “Such a good little slut.”
His words sent a humiliating thrill through me. I didn't want to be their slut, their whore…but my body betrayed me, responding to their crude touches and words with a desperate, shameful arousal.
I looked up, my eyes meeting Edward's. He was watching me with something like amusement, and I dropped my gaze before I risked him recognizing me. Or had he recognized me already, and this was part of one of his cruel games?
With my chin ducked to my chest, I allowed my dark curls to fall forward and hide more of my face as I continued to stroke the cocks in my hands.
“My turn!” Rogers gasped eagerly, and I saw his boots step up into position in front of me. “I’m ready to come just watching her suck off Daniel!”
Dutifully I opened my mouth, but when he grasped my hair and yanked my head back, I couldn’t hide my gasp of pain. Pain and humiliation, as he shoved his cock between my lips.
I could already taste his pre-cum; hewasnearing the end, and I suspected he required no help from me. No, in fact, his painful hold on my hair kept my head steady as he slammed into my mouth, again and again, using my face the way he’d use a hole.
It was all I could do to keep my jaw wide and my airway open; I’d ceased my stroking of the other cocks and now used my grip on them to hold myself upright more than anything, as the over-enthusiastic Rogers fucked my mouth. Tears ran from the corners of my eyes and I feared I might pass out.
At least, when he came, it would be down my gullet instead of all over me.
“Wait.” Edward’s command cut through the wall of sound around me.
When Rogers dutifully halted—unfortunately with his cock down my throat, cutting of my breath—Edward’s smooth voice continued.
“I want you to come on her face,” he commanded. “Allover her face. Now.”
Rogers laughed and, using his grip on my hair, yanked my mouth away from where my lips had been pressed against his bollocks. Gratefully, I sucked in a lungful of air, my throat already sore from his rough use.
It took Rogers two strokes of his own cock before he grunted and came, spurting hot seed across my forehead and cheeks. I sputtered, dropping the other men’s members, to wipe at my face, grateful that the mask protected my eyes somewhat.
“Hold.”
I froze, and his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling them away.
“Look at this mess.” His tone was mild. “Our canvas has been positively defiled. Madam Eve, do you always allow your whore to get this dirty?”
Until I heard her throaty chuckle, I hadn’t realized the other woman was still in the room with us. “Well, my lords, the state you leave my flowers in is your own fault.”
“Nevertheless,” Edward continued, his hold on my wrist absolute, “it’s your responsibility to come over here and clean this slut. With your tongue.”
A moment of silence, and I don’t think I was the only one in the room holding my breath. Then Madam hummed. “That will cost you each extra, I think.”
“And I am certain the show will be worth it,” Edward smoothly replied.
Another throaty chuckle. “Very well, my lords.”
Edward didn’t release me until Madam Eve dropped to her knees beside me. Then he stepped back, and Madam’s hand rested on my chin, turning my face toward hers. Her smile, which had been one of calculation, now turned soft.
“They want a show, my dear,” she murmured, even as she leaned toward me.
Madam Eve's lips met mine, soft and warm, a stark contrast to the rough handling of the men. I was surprised by the gentleness, by the sweet taste of her, and even more surprised by the spark it ignited within me. I had never been kissed by a woman before, never knew I could find it so arousing. Or perhaps my body’s response was merely because of where I was, and what I was doing.
Whatwewere doing.
