Page 44 of The Dead Don't Talk
To take it all by red-stained storm.
If anyone deserves to cause a revolution within the community walls, it’s them.
I can sense some apprehension still coming from Wilson, but I know just the trick to make him forget all about it, even if it’s just for the night.
“I think we’ve earned a treat before dinner,” I murmur and slide off Wilson’s lap, the hardwood digging into my knees.
His swallow is audible as I work my fingers into his waistband and tug.
“Can I?” He touches the tie holding my hair and I nod, sticking my tongue out to catch the spring of his hard cock from his pants. With shaking digits, he pulls it free and buries them in my strands so softly.
“Always a little cockslut. Never gets old to you, does it?”
Snickering, I shake my head and wrap my eager lips around Wilson’s plush head. He groans, tightening his fists, and tugs me down farther on his length.
I can feel Moros get up from his chair more than I can see him, the sizzle of the fire accompanying the soft praises from Wilson’s spit-slicked lips.
“So good, baby,” he murmurs and my cock fills. “So warm and tight. Perfect for my cock. Twirl your tongu—that’s it.”
His moan lights up my stomach where his words settle and I take him deeper into my throat.
I can feel his head teasing my tonsils, his mini thrusts momentarily cutting off my air.
It makes my ballsachewith need.
“Moros,” Wilson breathes out on a groan. “Our baby is so good. Perfect at sucking dick.”
I’m already moaning around his length, my palm digging into my own as I fight my gag reflex, when Moros responds.
“He’s a filthy fucking whore.”
My eyes roll back.
“Come watch him suck me. His mouth is so full.”
“Full with a tiny prick, yeah.” Wilson’s shaft pulses along my tongue and I suck him harder. “You’re both nothing but desperateholes.”
His fingers tremble in my hair, his breath choppy.
“Fuck, I love it when you’re mean to me.”
“Most sluts do,” Moros murmurs distractedly, almost bored, yet closer than before.
Is he watching? Does he like it?
I want to look, though there’s no way I’m letting Wilson leave my mouth. Not until he’s squirming and moaning and coming down my throat. I need the taste of him like I need air.
And then I need Moros just as bad.
Wait …
The gasp that pops from my lips the moment they’re freed from Wilson’s cock echoes in the room.
“Stand up,” I rasp out to warm brown eyes, grinning when he shoots to his feet and slides his cock back into my mouth, his palm against the back of my head.
Anxiously reaching for Moros, I only relax when I feel him press into my hand, the flesh of his hardness already freed for me to feel.
It makes me moan, having them both so ready and willing to be with me. To be together like this.
