bayedsolid Chapter 302: CowGirl
Chapter 302: CowGirl
Then she sank down.
Victor’s groan was guttural, primal. His hands twitched behind his head, tendons standing out along his forearms as he fought the urge to grab her. Felicity rolled her hips, taking him deeper, feeling him stretch her in a way that was entirely different from being filled by two cocks. This was hers. Her rhythm, her pace, her control.
She rode him hard. Her breasts bounced with each downward thrust. She could feel the other men watching, could feel the weight of five pairs of eyes tracking every movement, every flutter of her lashes, every bead of sweat that rolled down her spine.
Victor’s breathing grew ragged. His hips bucked upward, and she pressed a palm flat against his abdomen, holding him down. "Don’t," she warned. "You watch, you don’t move."
His red eyes blazed up at her, and she saw something shift in them, not anger, but something deeper. Something that looked almost like awe.
She felt him swell inside her, felt the telltale tension in his thighs. He was close, God, he was so close.
Felicity lifted herself off his cock in one fluid motion, his shaft sliding free with a wet sound that echoed in the ruined space. Before he could react, she dropped to her knees between his legs, wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, and sucked.
Victor’s roar shook dust from the ceiling. His cum flooded her mouth, hot, thick, slightly bitter, and she swallowed every drop, her throat working around him as he pulsed against her tongue. When she pulled back, a thin strand of white connected her lips to his tip, "Fel, what the... that was-"
She licked it clean, put her finger to his lips and told him to shush. Then she turned to the next man.
Lucan was already hard, had been hard since she’d first crawled out of her pillow fort, which he had helped her build. His golden eyes were wild, his tall panther man frame vibrating with barely contained need. Without being told, he locked his hands behind his head, his biceps flexing.
Felicity climbed onto him, positioning herself in reverse, facing away from him, her back pressed against his chest. She reached between her legs, guided his cock to her entrance, and sank down, slowly, agonisingly slowly.
The angle was different, deeper, somehow, hitting spots that made stars burst behind her eyelids. Lucan’s arms trembled behind his head, and she felt his chest heave against her spine. His breath was hot against her neck, his growl vibrating through her bones.
She rode him in reverse, her hands braced on his knees, her ass bouncing against his thighs. The visual must have been devastating for the other men. She could hear Ivan’s low groan, could see Voss’s knuckles going white where they gripped his cock.
Lucan’s pace quickened beneath her, his hips making tiny involuntary thrusts. She felt his cock swell, felt the first warning pulse.
She lifted off him, spun around on his lap, and took him into her mouth. His cum hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed greedily, her fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft, milking every last drop.
Two down, she locked eyes with Lucan and motioned her head for him to go wait like a good boy. he bit down a growl and went to wait.
Ivan was next. The massive, white lion man sat with rigid stillness, his dark eyes tracking her every movement. When she approached, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe, even until she placed her hands on his broad shoulders and climbed into his lap.
His cock was enormous. Thicker than the others, with a slight upward curve that pressed directly against her G-spot when she sank down. Ivan’s breath left him in a rush, his massive hands hovering at her sides, not touching, not yet, but trembling with the effort of restraint.
"Hands behind your back," she whispered against his jaw.
He complied. The muscles in his neck corded with tension.
Felicity rode him slowly at first, savoring the stretch, the way his cock seemed to fill her completely. Then faster, her hips snapping down, her nails digging into his shoulders. Ivan’s jaw was clenched so tight she thought his teeth might crack, but his eyes never left hers. There was something raw and vulnerable in that gaze, something that made her chest ache even as her body burned. She locked her arms around his neck and kept her eyes locked on his.
When she felt him tense, felt the first hot pulse of his release building, she lifted herself off his cock and dropped to her knees. His cum was copious, flooding her mouth, dripping from the corners of her lips, hell, it over flowed. She was worried it would come out of her nose. Ivan was gently stroking her head, his head tilted back, taking it in. Felicity drank it all, her tongue swirling around his tip, and when she finally pulled back, Ivan was staring down at her with an expression she’d never seen on his stoic face before.
Something that looked like devotion.
Three down.
She turned to Voss.
The lean strategist was the calmest of the six, his piercing gaze analytical even now, even with his cock straining against his stomach. But his breathing was shallow, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead.
"Hands," she said.
He laced them behind his head without hesitation. "As you wish, my Queen."
The formality in his voice, the way he said Queen like it was the only word that mattered, sent a shiver down her spine. She straddled him, and the moment she sank onto his cock, his composure cracked. Just slightly. A sharp inhale through his nose, a flutter of his eyelids.
She rode him with deliberate, grinding rolls of her hips, like riding a horse. She rolled her hips forward when she was all the way down on her cock, then, when pulling out, she rolled her hips backwards. He was groaning and moaning, taking him to the hilt each time. Voss’s analytical mind seemed to short-circuit, his gaze went unfocused, and his lips parted. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her, could feel the telltale tightening of his thighs.