by Dixon, Ruby
Beast hands him a packet and then walks away, and I watch as he sits down in his chair, his cock still hard and erect and pointing into the air like an obscene finger. He looks like he’s waiting for something. When I look back at Muscle rolling on a condom, I remember.
Get her all worked up so I can fuck her after you.
I moan, remembering that, and my gaze fixes on Muscle’s cock as he rolls the condom down his length. Then, with a wicked grin at me, he covers me once more. “Put your legs around me, Shy-girl,” he instructs.
I do, lifting them and locking my ankles behind his back.
Then, his mouth claims mine in another bold kiss, and I’m lost to his lips, his tongue, his taste. I feel the hard length of his cock nudge against my entrance, and then he pushes slowly inside me. I suck in a breath, because it’s tight and it hurts, but not like last time. This time it just feels like he’s pushing in and I’m far too small for him. I try to push against him, but Muscle’s bigger than me and all I succeed in doing is shoving him in deeper.
“Shh,” he murmurs, and kisses me. “Give it a moment, Shy-girl.”
I nod again, and he presses his forehead to mine, his nose brushing against my own. It’s such a sweet, intimate caress that I automatically relax a little. His only movements are the gentle nuzzles to my face, and eventually, things stop hurting and start feeling...intense. Muscle keeps kissing me, and then, he seems to draw away, only to push deep into me again.
I gasp at the same time he groans. “Fuck, she’s tight.”
“Sorry,” I whisper.
He laughs, but it’s strained, and I can feel his body tensing over mine. “Not a bad thing, Shy-girl. Not a bad thing at all.”
Oh. He kisses me again, and then pushes deep once more, and this time, it doesn’t hurt, it just feels...full. Like I’ve been stuffed to the gills with him. And it’s a weirdly erotic feeling that makes me groan.
“Feel good, Shy-girl?” he asks me. At my nod, he starts to move his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. He begins to pump in and out of me, driving between my legs with wicked thrusts that seem to hit me so deep that I’m surprised I don’t feel them in my throat. I cling to his shoulders, trying desperately to keep my legs locked around him, but his thrusts are distracting me with how good they feel. This is nothing like before, when I felt...invaded. This is the sweetest invasion ever. This is a melding of bodies, a sharing of pleasure, and I suddenly get why everyone’s so addicted to these big, strong men. If they can make a girl feel like this, Jesus.
“That’s right,” he murmurs as I raise my hips to meet his. “Come with me. Let me make you feel good.” His mouth licks mine, and oh Jesus, I thought watching Beast was erotic? That’s nothing to Muscle tonguing me while he drives into my pussy. My whimpers take on volume as his strokes increase in their intensity and speed, and before long, he’s thrusting so hard and fast into me that I can do nothing but hold on. I feel a strange warmth rising in my belly, different than my orgasm from before. Deeper. More intense. My arms tighten around Muscle’s neck and I bury my face against his shoulder. I need more, but I don’t know how to ask for it, don’t even really know what it is I need, just that I’m so close but not quite there—
And then he grabs one of my legs and hauls it forward, pushing my knee to my shoulder and pinning me even harder beneath him. His next thrust seems to go deeper than ever before, and there’s a look of concentration on his beautiful face.
The tension builds, and then it feels as if my entire body clenches around his. I cry out, surprised at the intensity of feeling, and I start coming again. I’ve never had a second orgasm, considering all of mine ever have come from masturbating, and my entire body feels as if it has come nearly unglued with the onslaught of pleasure.
“Ah, fuck,” Muscle says above me, and then chuckles. “She’s coming so hard. I can feel her clamping down on my dick.”
“How’s it feel?” Beast asks in that growly, low voice of his.
“Feels fucking amazing,” Muscle says, voice tight. He groans low, and then pushes into me hard, and I feel his body tremble with the force of his own orgasm. “God damn,” he grates out, pushing into me hard again. Then, he collapses on me, sweaty and panting, and chuckles again. “Fuuuck, I needed that after tonight.”
I’m still breathing hard myself, feeling a bit wrung out over everything. My legs feel like jelly—achy jelly, but still jelly.
“Mmm,” Muscle says, and gives me a smack on one thigh. “Good job, Shy-girl. Now I need a shower.” He gets up off me, and I feel a little raw as his cock slides free from my pussy. Then, he’s standing up and removing the condom as he pads away, completely buck naked.
And I’m forgotten.
Good job? What the hell?
Chapter Four
I sit up, trembling. Somewhere in the back of the house, a shower starts, and I can hear Muscle whistling.
“You okay?” The low, deep voice makes me realize someone else is still in the room, of course. Beast. I blink and look over at him.
“F-f-f-f-fine,” I say, though I’m not feeling super fine at the moment. I’m feeling...well, used. Which is silly, because I’ve gotten exactly what I wanted, haven’t I? And yet, I guess I was hoping for more affection than just a ‘good job’.
Beast gestures with one hand, indicating that I should come over to him. Automatically, I get up and approach, and I feel hollowed-out between my legs, and wet, and throbbing. And I’m feeling awful awkward. As I move toward Beast, though, I realize...his cock is still out and hard, and he’s sheathed it with a condom at some point.
“All right with you if I claim you now?” he asks.
It feels so weird for him to ask permission. “S-s-s-s-sure.”
“Stutter’s back,” he comments, and pulls me against him. His hand cups one of my breasts, and his thumb grazes my nipple. I feel the touch rocket from my breast to my pussy, and lean into his caress. “Your feelings are hurt, aren’t they?”
I shake my head.
“Little liar,” Beast says. “Come straddle me. I want to be inside you.”
His big face is hard and unyielding, but I’m not scared of him. Even though his expression is gruff, his hands are gentle as he pulls me toward him and then lifts me by my hips, and I settle on my knees with them pressed against the outside of each of his thighs. Then, carefully, he lowers me onto his sheathed cock. He feels even bigger than Muscle, and he’s not going in all that easily.
“You’re swollen,” he murmurs, and his hand strokes my hair. “Take your time, Shy. I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod, and give my hips tiny little rocking motions back and forth, trying to work him in. I’m enveloping him slowly, and the entire time, Beast’s hands are gripping my hips but he’s not pushing me. Instead, he’s just holding me, and his mouth nuzzles my skin, my collarbones, my breast. When his mouth latches onto one of my nipples, I gasp and my hips rock hard, and I seat a lot more of him inside me.
We both groan.
“See,” Beast says, and then licks my nipple again. “Muscle doesn’t do so good with touchy feely stuff. He liked you, but he has a hard time showing it. Give him a few days before you write him off, Shy. I promise he’s not a bad guy. Just...closed up.”
I nod. It’s not like I have tons of choices, anyhow. This is my path, and it wasn’t like the sex was bad. The opposite, really.
“You’re still really tight,” Beast tells me, kissing between my breasts. “Had Muscle go first to stretch you a bit, but, damn. Big guy like me shouldn’t be with a tiny girl like you.”
“Nonsense,” I breathe. Because I like Beast. I like the way his hands hold me as if I’m porcelain, and he’s afraid of hurting something as fine as I am. I like the way his eyes devour me. And most of all, I like the way he kisses me and caresses me.
Then, I’m seated entirely on him, and Beast tilts his head back and closes his eyes, groaning with pleasure. And I enjoy seeing that. I move my hips just a little, rocking again, because i
t feels good. He’s dressed still—completely dressed, actually, except for the pants he’s shoved down to free his cock—and I find myself running my hands down his big chest, wondering what he looks like naked. I imagine he’s built like a tank, and covered with tattoos. I can see them peeking out from under his sleeves and the collar of his t-shirt.
“Ride me,” he tells me, his hands cupping my ass cheeks and dragging me up and down on top of him in an indication of what he wants.
So I brace my hands on his shoulders and lift my hips, dragging my swollen, aching pussy back up and down him again. He’s so big I feel as if he’s coring me, like an apple, and I shake my head to rid myself of that strange mental image. He’s big and I ache, but it’s not a bad ache. I am, however, oversensitive, and when I drag up and down him, I whimper because it makes all my ragged nerves light up, eager for another orgasm.
“Lean forward, Shy,” he tells me. “Rub your breasts on me when you move.”
I lose myself in his dark eyes, and with his hands guiding me, I begin to ride him, leaning forward to let my nipples scrape along the front of his leathers. For some reason, that’s incredibly erotic and I catch myself moaning again.
“So lovely,” he murmurs, and then he captures my mouth with his. And Beast doesn’t kiss in the same intense, devouring way that Muscle does. His is light, and soft, and gentle, and so utterly tender that it makes my toes curl. And I lean into his kiss even as I keep riding him, my movements increasing in speed.
We keep kissing, and then his mouth captures my lower lip and he sucks on it, hard. I moan something that sounds like his name. Then, he grabs my ass harder and begins to drive me down on his cock, clearly at the limits of his endurance. And he begins to fuck me so hard and so fast that I cling to him to hold on, and another orgasm starts building deep inside me. “Oh,” I moan, and my fingers fist in his longer, dark hair. It’s soft. So soft and silky. “Oh,” I moan again as he seems to hit just the right spot that makes my entire body light up. “Right there—”
And then he bucks, pushing hard into me, and he’s hitting something inside me, and my entire body seems to snap, and I’m coming again. Again, again, again, and it’s glorious and hard and I’m so dazed with passion that I can barely do anything but cling to him as he pumps into me with an orgasm of his own.
Then, he gently kisses my mouth again, his movements slowing.
I’m suddenly exhausted, and I fall against his big, broad chest with a yawn. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that many times before,” I whisper. “I feel like a dishrag.”
He chuckles, and his hand strokes my hair. “Come on. I’ll take you up to bed.”
We disentangle limbs and I slide off of him. I’m aching badly between my legs, images of that hollowed-out apple in my mind again, but I also feel boneless and good. He removes his condom and tosses it in the trash, then hitches his pants around his hips and buttons them again. I watch him with tired eyes as he returns to my side, leans down and kisses the top of my head, and then hauls me into his arms. “You can sleep with me tonight.”
That sounds wonderful. I snuggle down against his chest. “All right.”
Because he’s big and I’m so small, it feels as if it’s no chore for Beast to haul me into his arms and drag me upstairs to his room. He’s got the master bedroom of the house, I think, because there’s a bathroom off of his large room. Best of all, he’s got a massive king-sized bed that I could get lost in, and he drops me into the center of it.
I’m just about drifting off to sleep when he grabs me by one leg, pries my thighs open, and begins to gently wipe me down with a warm, wet towel. “W-wha?”
“Just cleaning you up a bit,” he says in that gruff voice. “Go back to sleep.”
I should be embarrassed, but I just yawn and sink further into the covers. For guys with a sloppy house, Beast has an utterly divine bed. It’s got the fluffiest pillows and a mattress you sink into, and it’s so much better than my futon at the trailer. I feel a heavy weight get into the bed next to me, and then a big, warm arm slides over my shoulders and Beast tucks me in against his now bare chest. He’s radiating heat, and mm, it feels wonderful.
I fall asleep feeling safe and protected for the first time in what feels like forever.
• • •
A horrible scream wakes me up in the middle of the night.
I jerk upright, terrified. My mind is fragmented; the bed I’m in isn’t mine, my thighs are sore and aching (along with deeper parts of me) and there’s a man next to me in bed.
“Go back to sleep, Shy,” Beast says, and I remember where I am. He presses a kiss to my head, then nudges me back under the blankets.
“I thought I heard something,” I whisper.
“You did. Just Muscle having bad dreams.” He tucks me closer to him. “Nothing to do but ignore it.”
From the other room comes another heart-rending cry, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. “You sure he’s okay?”
Beast sighs. “Naw. He’s not okay. Don’t think he’s been okay for a long time. But there’s nothing you can do about the dreams at least.” His arm clamps around me tighter. “Just sleep, all right? I’ve known Muscle for eight years and this is normal for him. Promise.”
I nod and return to bed, but I can’t stop thinking about those awful cries. Muscle’s dreams must be horrific. I feel a twinge of pity for the cocky, beautiful man. No wonder he’s so closed off, like Beast says. Whatever happened in his past, it’s still haunting him today.
Muscle cries out in his sleep two or three more times, and Beast eventually wraps a blanket around his waist, leaves the room, and talks to Muscle. I hear bitter, angry words pass between them, and then Beast returns. He gets back into bed, sighs heavily, and pulls me against his chest again.
“Just bad dreams,” he tells me again.
Eventually, we go back to sleep.
• • •
The next morning, I wake up before Beast does. He’s still locked around me, so I carefully slide out from under the cage of his arms and run to the bathroom to tidy up.
I’m aching and sore between my legs, and my hair’s a hot mess, so I take a quick shower. The bathroom’s kind of a mess, but I find a decent towel and clean off, finger comb my hair, and then head downstairs looking for my dress and panties. My dress and boots I find a few minutes later. My panties have vanished somewhere in this messy living room. I debate spending the time to find them, or feeding my growling stomach. I opt to see what’s in the kitchen, so I slide on my boots, tug on my dress, and see what these boys have in the house.
I’m pleased to see there’s a fully-stocked pantry, so I decide to make breakfast. Well, once I’ve cleared off the stove. The dishwasher’s empty, so I load it up and clean up the kitchen a bit before pulling out a few skillets to make food. As it cooks, I make coffee and continue cleaning, and by the time the eggs, ham, and bacon are ready, the kitchen is mostly clean. It just needs a good mopping.
And me? I’m in a fabulous mood. I’m safe, I had awesome sex with two different men, and I slept in a fabulous bed. Even if these men are slobs and Muscle seems a bit remote, I still like them both a lot. Maybe they won’t mind keeping me around.
“Now I know that Beast ain’t cookin’ this morning,” Muscle drawls as he enters the kitchen. “Because the house ain’t on fire. Hey there, Shy-girl.” He approaches me, grabs me from behind, and squeezes my breast as he kisses my neck. “Ain’t you a fine sight for morning wood. You sore?”
I nod, blushing.
“Guess the morning wood can wait a bit, then.” He glances around, but squeezes my breast anyhow, as if unable to resist. “Place looks good. You cleaning up?”
“Just to make breakfast. Sorry if I’m imposing.” I smile at him and slide out of his grip. “Let me get the eggs before they burn.”
“Not imposing at all,” he says easily, and flops down at the junk-covered kitchen table. “Don’t know if you noticed, but me and Beast aren’t exactl
y housekeepers.” He shoves an armful of old mail and newspapers off of the table onto the floor, making room for breakfast.
I cringe at that, but I’m used to my brother Stuart. He’s a shitty housekeeper too, and I’ve kept house at the trailer for both of us, or else the place would look like this one. I’d rather pick up after these two men than him. “I’ll get you some coffee.” I bustle around the kitchen, fixing him a heaping plate of food, a cup of coffee, and then set it down in front of him.
He throws a brilliant smile in my direction at the food and pulls me in for another smacking kiss. “If you’re sucking up, it’s working.”
I blush, because I wasn’t really trying to suck up, was I? I’m just used to earning my keep. If anything, I am using these men. Least I can do is make them breakfast.
“Hey,” says a gruff, sleepy voice. “Thought we were sharing her.” A heavy arm loops around my shoulders and Beast leans over me to snag a piece of bacon from Muscle’s plate. “Don’t be trying to coerce her into thinking you’re the real prize here, Muscle.”
“She knows which one’s the catch and which one you throw back,” Muscle teases, clearly in a good mood. He digs into the food with relish, last night’s bad dreams forgotten.
Beast just gives one of those ironic snorts, drags me in for a long, tender good-morning kiss, and then pats me on the butt. “Can I have a plate of food, too?”
“Of course,” I whisper, smiling up at him. I make a few more eggs, since Muscle took the six I’d already made, and whip up additional food for Beast in a matter of minutes. The men are appreciative of my cooking, so much that I don’t really even mind that all that’s left for me are a few pieces of toast and a bit of hash browns. I don’t eat much anyhow.
Muscle notices I’m not eating and pulls a few strips of bacon off his plate. “Eat this.”
