“What would you do if someone heard you say those words?” I said harshly. My hand closed tighter around her neck. “If someone walked around this corner now and looked into the curtains? If they saw you with your legs spread wide for me?”
She made an incoherent noise. I smiled viciously at her. “You would let them watch, wouldn’t you? You’d let them watch, because that’s how much you need my cock. That’s how much you need me. You’d let some stranger watch you getting fucked like a whore and you wouldn’t care, so long as I made that pussy come for me. Isn’t that right?”
“God, yes,” she moaned, and it was loud enough that I glanced around behind me to see if we’d been overheard. We hadn’t, at least not that I could see.
I returned my attention to her, to the way her breathing had grown labored against the squeeze of my fingers on her throat. I took care to make sure she could still breathe easily enough, but I wanted her to feel that edge of fear, that edge of uncertainty. Molly O’Flaherty had never let fear get the better of her. She’d never let fear take residence inside her mind.
Unless she was with me.
I should feel terrible about that. But I didn’t. Not with that flush staining her cheeks and chest, not with the way her fingers grasped at my jacket. It occurred to me that I’d never fucked like this—only with words, only with a hand squeezing and releasing and squeezing again on her neck. With my cock sunk to the hilt, but unmoving, a rigid bar in the soft heat of her body.
“I can do anything I want with you, can’t I?” I asked her. “I can fuck you in the middle of a crowded ballroom. I can bend you over and fuck your ass until you come and cry at the same time. I can share your cunt with Castor or Julian.”
Her eyes went wide at that—but not just with shock. With lust. I’d said it merely to be dirty, merely to drive her closer to the edge, but once I spoke the words, I felt my own response to the idea, a hot knife of arousal deep in my groin, a sharp desire that made my balls tighten. God, to see her under Castor’s massive muscular frame or pinned under Julian’s lean body—it was a thought that would make most men furious, but for some reason, it made me wild with desire. It made me savage with the need to drive into her, to fuck her blind. I wanted to see her with my friends, I wanted to be the one to be able to share her.
My thighs trembled with the restraint it took to stay still. “You’ve gone quiet, Mary Margaret. Is it because you want to be shared? Is it because you want me to spread your legs and offer you to other men?”
Her mouth parted, lips berry pink and plump, and oh God, now the memories were crashing in, memories of her lips wrapped tightly around Julian’s cock, of all those long nights in Europe where Julian and I each took our turn with her, making her come over and over and over again, until we all fell asleep in a pile of tangled limbs. Of the time Castor had given in to his lust and curiosity one night during supper, and Molly had—only for that one night—allowed him to dominate her right there on his dinner table. He’d laid her out and tied her down and fucked her until she screamed with an orgasm so powerful it shook the table.
Why doesn’t that make you jealous? I asked myself. But it didn’t make me jealous.
It only made me harder.
“Maybe I should pull out of you right now and go find Castor or Julian, hmm? Bring them back here to fuck you. I’ll bring Ivy too, and maybe I’ll make you watch while I sink my cock into her. Make you watch as I test her cunt to see if it’s as tight and wet as yours.”
Wrong words. Sinful words. Awful words.
But Molly’s eyes had fluttered closed again and her breathing was so fast, so rapid now, and that flush was so deep and so hot in her skin, and she whispered, “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Her hands were fisted in my jacket, and she couldn’t help the squirming, the wriggling, the need for friction.
I let her move against me as I continued. “I want to see Julian and Castor inside of you at the same time. And I want to fuck Ivy while I watch. And then, when they’re done using you, I will wrap my hand in Ivy’s hair—” I slid the hand from her waist up into her gorgeous mass of curls to prove my point “—and drag her over to your cunt and make her lick you until you can’t speak any more.”
“Jesus Christ,” she managed, and I could tell we were there, that our fantasy had taken us there, and I finally clamped down against her airway as hard as I dared, keeping a mental clock in my mind to make sure she stayed safe. Everything about her was open, needy—her cunt and her parted mouth and her widened blue eyes—and everything about me was hard and tense and rigid.
“And then after they’ve all had you, after they’ve come in you, then I’ll get you. And you’ll be so sensitive and swollen and as tight as a virgin, and I’ll fuck you for hours, as a punishment and a reward. Look down, Molly. Look at you grinding against my cock like a needy whore. I bet you can’t wait to have all of us using you, filling you with our seed.”
The first wave was more like a ripple, a small tug, and I brutishly thrust up into it even though I was already sunk all the way in, stabbing myself into her climax as I finally let go of her neck. Air sucked into her lungs, and her orgasm doubled and tripled and quadrupled all in the few seconds it took for her to call my name.
“Fuck, Silas!” She writhed and gasped, and I kept pressing into her, needing to feel every twitch and flutter and clench, needing my whole dick to feel every second of this orgasm, this first I-choose-you orgasm. I forced myself to stay completely still as she quivered around me, clenching my jaw with the effort of restraint as her narrow channel gripped and slid against me.
She ground against me through it all, wrapping her legs around my waist to lock us close together, the pink bud of her clit rubbing shamelessly against me.
God, I loved it. I loved her. And I had to start moving right the fuck now.
As the last of her climax fluttered away, leaving Molly panting and slumped against the glass behind her, I widened my legs and started driving into her pussy in earnest, loving the image of my thick cock pulling out to the tip and then ramming back in. She was so wet, so deliciously wet, but swollen, and the coupling of the lubrication and the resistance was almost too much to bear. I didn’t go fast so much as I went hard, rocking her back with every thrust and making her squeak with mingled pleasure and discomfort.
With a growl, I moved her f
eet back to where they had been—braced against the sides of the window—so that she was wide open for me. Yes, that was good, I liked that. I liked my hands around her tiny waist, I liked her cunt open and ready, I liked the noise of the party guests and the thrill of the public event behind me.
“So fucking wet,” I grunted. My balls slapped against her ass with each thrust. “So fucking wet for me.”
Her flush deepened and I knew she’d come again—if I could last that long. Which was a matter for debate, at this point. “Rub your clit,” I ordered her. “Rub it hard and fast. I want you to make me come when you do.”
“Yes, Silas,” she whispered, her hand already snaking down to to find her swollen nub. I watched her slender fingers work herself, and she watched me watching her, and then she fell over the edge once more, her head falling back as she tried to hold in her cry. That’s all I needed—the long arch of her throat as her head dropped back, the wet clench of her orgasm—and then I was following her over the cliff into oblivion.
The climax started deep in my body, a jagged thing sawing at the base of my spine, sawing deep into my balls and cock, and it hurt it felt so good, my whole body shrinking to one point—my cock—and then exploding outwards as I shot jet after hot jet of cum deep into her body. I held her tighter and thrust harder as that happened, wanting to fill her up with as much of me as I could. To mark her and claim her and fucking own her.
I pulsed and pulsed for what felt like hours, fucking through the climax like a man possessed, until finally the light returned to my vision and the sensation of anything beyond my orgasm began to come back. Molly’s hands in my hair. The sticky warmth we’d made between us. The music still trilling in the background.
