by Marilynn Fae
She wants to argue that all hucows are bare. She just doesn't grow hair between her legs.
"She's always shaved," Luke says, his tone so casual it is as though he is merely commenting on the weather. "Gorgeous, isn't she?" he says.
She is a little annoyed that he doesn't know she doesn't shave, that he's unaware that hair simply doesn't grow there, but she is too busy feeling mortified by all the eyes on her, staring and looking at her pussy lips.
"She's so fucking wet already," Keats says, surprising her by being the first to reach between her legs and spread her pussy lips open. He slides his forefingers inside, spreading her open to peer into her hole.
She turns her head to the side even as a spike of arousal jolts up her spine. She bites her lower lip to keep from crying out. Cain's voice is like velvet in her ear when he speaks behind her. "You're absolutely lovely."
She tries to tilt her face away, but he is holding onto her waist too tightly and pinning her arms too securely. She cries out when Luke rips her blouse open, revealing her frilly pink bra underneath. He wastes no time in taking that off as well, snapping the front clasps open and tugging it out of the way. She is too distracted to fight back with Keats's fingers on her pussy lips, rubbing between them and teasing her hole before moving his attention up to rub her clit.
Pleasure jolts up her spine and she tries to squirm her hips away from him, but the two men holding her legs open hold firm and she can't do anything but submit herself to the way the almost-stranger is opening her hole up.
Fingers rub and tease her nipples, drawing milk to the tips. She whimpers as milk begins to form on the tips of her nipples and pebble there, dripping down slowly at first, and then in great spurts when they begin to pinch lower.
The heavy scent of arousal mixed with creamy milk and musk fills her nose and lungs. Cain's and Keats's fingers are on her pussy, spreading her wide from the inside as though trying to split her open, presenting the glistening pink hole within. She cries out as her hips bucked into the touch, the pleasure too much for her to take. Her walls tighten around their fingers, tense enough that they are able to feel it and glance up at her together.
"Why don't we tie her down?" Cain suggests and she is torn between crying out for mercy and begging them to just get on with fucking her already. Anything is better than the torture of having every inch of her body groped and played with without the satisfaction of being filled. Already, she is losing sense of herself, the initial humiliation and reluctance replaced completely by want and arousal.
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Author
Marilynn Fae is a full-time writer who is in love with supernatural romance, especially those with innocent young virgins who have no idea what they are getting themselves into.
