Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Tailor takes me into the bathroom, which is large and sparsely appointed. There’s a large bathtub and big tiled floors and a sink that has three toothbrushes lined up in their very own glasses along the side of it.
They take my clothes off me, everything including my socks.
I see that the one who hasn’t said anything has my effects from down on the bar. While I was being railed by Conroy, he was making sure nobody stole my Zip. He seems cool.
Standing naked before men who I intellectually know are my mates, but the part of my brain that has been fighting a solo battle forever won’t acknowledge that way, I struggle for words that will renew my independence. Some of them manage to fall out of my mouth, though they do a very poor job of explaining how I really feel.
“I’m not interested in being anyone’s mate. And if there’s a problem with port tax, I’ll go ahead and pay it. You know it’s not really that big a deal, to…”
Conroy’s mouth comes down gently, but firmly on the back of my neck and the words fall into their composite consonants and syllables and then collapse completely.
It is a surprisingly intimate experience, being made naked and then cleaned by three tongues, all of which are agile and excited by their work. I have no choice but to lie back and accept their ministrations.
“You don’t even know me,” I moan. “I’m not…”
The one with the short, dark hair kisses me. Deeply, passionately. With enough intensity to drive all thoughts of not being known out of my head. I can feel my instincts shifting toward them. With every breath I take, their scents enter me, all three of them becoming part of my internal chemistry.
He does not say a word, but he looks down at me with what I can only describe as a dark tenderness. I feel something in him speaking to something in me, the part of me that never really gets to express itself.
I reach for him. He catches my hand and lowers it, giving a little shake of his head, as if I do not get to…
“Oh, my god,” I moan as a hot tongue laps along the length of my slit.
“Don’t pleasure her again,” the leader, Conroy, says roughly. “She doesn’t deserve to have her pussy feel good. Not until she’s been punished for her disobedience.”
“Fuck you,” I curse as the blond lifts his head away from me, patting my pussy reassuringly as he moves away.
“You will be fucked soon enough, but on our schedule, not yours,” the asshole in charge says. “That little hole hasn’t earned any reassurance, let alone enjoyment.”
“What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem,” he snarls, looming over me, his hand now cupping my sex firmly, holding me like my pussy belongs to him. “is that you’re a spoiled little brat who doesn’t understand how much fucking trouble she is in. You tried to get away with breaking our rules, and now we are going to break you instead.”
He’s so mean, even as his fingers move in a subtle rubbing motion between my legs, somewhat undermining his gruff point. He’s soothing and settling me with his touch while lecturing me sternly.
“Don’t swear at me again,” he says. “Or I’ll spank this pussy before I fuck it again. You think there’s a limit to how many times we can breed you? There’s three of us, baby; we can fuck you day and night if we want to, keep you full of our cum until you birth us our pups.”
I suck in a breath as he parts my lower lips by spreading his fingers. He is so comfortable handling my body as if he owns it, like he’s done this dozens of times before, as if I have always belonged to him.
“Stop it,” I mutter.
“Is that what you want?” He pulls his fingers away, then slaps my slit. “You want me to stop?” Another swat lands again. “You want to have your pussy punished?”
“No!”
“Too bad. You’ve earned it now.”
He spanks me between my legs again. I try to close them, but the others each take a leg and hold me open for the pussy spanking.
“You need to understand what it means to be owned by me. I mean, by us. We are not gentle men. We are not men at all. We are wolves, and this pussy belongs to us now, do you understand?”
He punctuates the question by slapping my lips again, making my sensitive folds sting.
“No,” I say, defiant, and because I have no intention of making him feel like this is working on me, even though it is totally working on me. I might be able to talk them out of this mate stuff. If I can’t talk them out of it, I’ll act them out of it. I am not ready to be anyone’s mate.