Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Not wanting to come yet, Khalil pulls out and grips the base of his dick before slapping the heavy length against my abused pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the sight as he uses the glistening, angry-looking head to tease my clit. Khalil slips down through my swollen slit and back again. My lashes flutter when he does this a few more times until his next downstroke strays too far and his thick head accidentally meets Thorin’s tunneling length and becomes lodged there.
I moan at the sight, and Khalil smirks at me. He frees his dick and shoves inside me again before my desires can twist into new forbidden wants.
It should be impossible for both of them to fit inside me, and I secretly love that they give me no choice but to take it. A huge part of what draws me to them is their unrelenting brutality. It makes my twisted heart feel like I’m not alone in the darkness that sweeps me up when I’m most vulnerable. My mountain men never hesitate to step into it with me.
They use me, push me, and sometimes hurt me, but they’re always right there, falling apart with me.
“Fuck, Aurelia.” Thorin sounds close and when he takes over the rhythm, Khalil and I have no choice but to follow. It would be easier to stop a team of racing horses.
He makes it impossible to hold in what they do to me.
Cries escape my lips in small bursts that I desperately try to swallow, but Khalil and Thorin aren’t having it. They’re watching me closely and noting every ounce of resistance from me before adjusting the angle, depth, and speed of their thrusts until those little cries turn into screams.
They want me to scream.
They want Ezekiel to hear me. They want him to know just how brutally they use me and how much I crave it. I don’t hate the idea even though I know I’ll regret it once I have to face Zeke again.
Right now, my lips are falling open and my screams barrel through, mixing with their grunts and groans and the sound of our sweat-slicked skin slapping.
When my orgasm hits, it’s almost surprising since I didn’t expect them to let me come. My pussy clamps down on Khalil without warning and almost immediately, I feel his dick began to jerk inside me. I hear Thorin’s mumbled curses and know he must feel it too through the thin wall that separates them.
Keeping his promise, Khalil pulls out with a hiss and gives his thick length a few furious strokes before he groans and his dick begins to spit up. The first spurt of cum lands on my jaw, the second and third on my chest and stomach, and the last on my thigh. Thorin is right behind him, slamming into me one final time before he comes with a grunt that vibrates his chest.
It’s so good. I want to cry, but I know I can’t.
Losing Seth was a temporary seal on whatever’s broken in me, but now the part of me that allows me to cry is fracturing again, and the devastation that it may never heal again bowls over me.
The bead of sweat I feel slowly running down my sternum catches Khalil’s eye and he pauses. One of his hands leaves the back of my thigh, and he thumbs the wetness. He studies the drop for a moment before he does something I don’t expect.
With a tender look to his face, Khalil brings his wet thumb to my face, and he drags it down one cheek before doing the same to the other. He collects more drops of sweat and repeats the action until the gathered wetness begins rolling down my cheek. I realize with the force of a punch to the gut what he’s doing.
Tears.
Khalil is giving me tears.
Involuntarily, I lift my wobbling chin, and Khalil grants my silent request, craning his neck to kiss me tenderly. The kiss lasts long enough for my fake tears to join the tangle of our tongues, and I taste the salty sweetness. Behind me, Thorin rises to kiss my nape, shoulder, and back. Anywhere he can reach to soothe these cracks.
Khalil ends the kiss a moment later.
“Better, Goldilocks?”
“Yes,” I answer shyly. I feel a little ashamed, but I keep it to myself, knowing my mountain men wouldn’t welcome me feeling that emotion for any reason. It’s even more obvious to me now that they are extremely protective of my feelings. “Thank you.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me for that.”
Just as I feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude welling until it feels like I really might cry, Khalil slaps my breasts hard enough to leave a red handprint and those sharp edges of my mountain men return.
Once again, I realize belatedly that they aren’t done with me.