Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Camille’s tongue delved inside me, then she sucked hard on my clit, the dual stimulation sending me hurtling toward my third climax. I mirrored her actions, desperate to bring her over the edge with me. I felt Sven’s hand on my head again, and I realized he must be doing the same to Camille, pushing our faces into each other’s hot, wet depths.
As I soared over the edge into my third orgasm, I thought I felt my Herra stroke my head gently, just for a moment, as if to remind me that he—the real Sven—still lay inside the cruel dominant he had to pretend to be.
“That’s it, girls,” Erik said. “That’s just what a man like Monsieur Beaumont likes to see his fuck toys do.”
CHAPTER 27
Mary
“Alright,” Sven told him. “You can stop filming.”
A beep sounded from the camera.
“Now can we fuck their cunts and their asses?” Erik asked. “I got hard again watching that.”
I trembled as I heard Sven’s response, my body still quivering from the intensity of my last orgasm.
“I’m hard again too,” my Herra growled, his voice thick with lust. “We should definitely use these little whores thoroughly while we wait for Beaumont’s response. I want to enjoy both of them before we have to hand them over to that trillionaire bastard.”
My heart raced at his words. I tried desperately to remind myself that Sven was acting this way to help solidify our cover story. This wasn’t really him—it was all part of the mission. But to my dismay and shame, I found myself losing the ability to distinguish between the act and reality.
Sven’s large hands gripped my hips, roughly flipping me onto my front, on all fours. The coarse horse blanket scratched against my tender skin, a sharp counterpoint to the lingering pleasure still thrumming through my body. I craned my face over my shoulder and gazed up at him, my vision blurry with unshed tears. I saw no trace of the gentle man who had held me so tenderly just hours before. His blue eyes were cold and predatory as they raked over my naked form.
“Arch your back, slut,” he commanded, his voice harsh. “Show me that needy little cunt of yours.”
I obeyed without hesitation, my back bending and my hips rising as if of their own accord. My cheeks burned with humiliation as I exposed myself so wantonly, but I couldn’t deny the pulse of arousal that shot through me at Sven’s commanding tone.
Beside me, I heard Camille whimper as Erik manhandled her into a similar position. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed through the stable, followed by Camille’s cry of pain and Erik’s dark chuckle. “That’s it, whore. Arch your back and present that ass to me.”
Sven’s massive frame loomed over me. I could see the thick outline of his erection straining against his jeans, and my mouth went dry with a mixture of fear and anticipation. He unfastened his belt slowly, the soft clink of metal unnaturally loud in the charged atmosphere of the stable.
“Please,” I whispered, not sure if I was begging him to stop or to hurry. My body trembled with need, even as my mind recoiled at the thought of being used so roughly.
Sven’s hand cracked across my face, the sharp sting of the slap bringing fresh tears to my eyes. “Did I say you could speak, cunt?” he snarled. “The only sounds I want to hear from you are screams and moans.”
I nodded mutely, my cheek throbbing from the blow. Sven unzipped his fly, freeing his massive cock. Despite how well I had already gotten to know it—even having had him in my mouth only a few minutes earlier—the sight of it now made me gasp.
“Hey,” Erik said from behind me. “Let’s put them over a hay bale, with their faces and asses next to each other. That’ll make it easy to compare.”
I swallowed hard. Camille let out a whimper that made me turn my face over my other shoulder, where I could just make eye contact with her. My tummy flipped as I saw the look in my fellow völva’s eyes: the picture, I felt sure, of the same conflict that swirled inside me.
Then I saw that Erik had picked up a hay bale, and covered it with another old horse blanket. I felt Sven pick me up off the ground and I cried out as he carried me toward the bale, where Erik had already started to position Camille.
I trembled as Sven laid me next to her. Some of the rough straw came through the blanket, poking into my tender skin. My face pressed against Camille’s hip, her warm flesh contrasting with the cool air of the stable. I could smell the lingering scent of her arousal mingled with sweat and fear. My own scent, I realized with a jolt of shame, must be just as strong in Camille’s nostrils.