Ruthless(31)

Cole was like a lion. He’d roar when he came, a deep growl emitted from the depths of his chest. I could imagine his biceps straining as he pushed his member deep into some slut’s fanny, her twat warm, wet and welcoming.

Landon was more like a beast. He punctuated his orgasms with a loud “Fuck!” while shooting his sperm into some tramp’s cunt, a hard jerk of his hips and slapping sound the perfect accompaniment.

Finally, I was done. Really, truly done. No more listening through the walls, a witness to the action but never in on it, my pussy hot and moist as I fingered myself, juices dripping off my hand. I wanted to be a character in the play, and was determined to find my part.

After another lonely day wandering by myself, topped off by dinner alone in my hotel room, I showered and changed into the pink dress. I fluffed out my hair, making sure the chestnut waves coiled smoothly over my shoulders before carefully applying some lipstick and blush. My glasses were gone, replaced by contact lenses, and I blinked at myself in the mirror, suddenly unsure.

My reflection was completely changed. Instead of a gawky teen, I looked like a nubile fawn, my legs lengthened in nude heels, doe-eyed yet seductive in the blush-colored dress. I felt nervous and a little scared but was determined to go out. I’d heard my brothers talking about Club Zest last night, and bravely, I swung my purse over my shoulder before catching a cab downtown.

It was embarrassing frankly. I’d never worn any type of revealing outfit before and the male attention was unsettling, although it made my skin tingle and a new feminine instinct uncurl. I mean, to feel male eyeballs glued to my breasts and ass was completely new, yet empowering. I added an extra sway to my hips, and sure enough, the bouncer let me bypass the line and skip in for free.

But inside, I was suddenly out of my element. It was really dark, and strobe lights flashed on and off, swirling over a sea of tangled, writhing bodies. I couldn’t really see what was going on, but it seemed that quite a few people were only half-dressed, lithe bodies on display as they gyrated and twisted to the pulsing beat. The music was blaring so loudly that I was developing a headache, and I scanned the crowd futilely, trying to make out my brothers amid the mass of dark, moving shapes.

Suddenly, a really hot guy came up to me. He was tall, at least six feet, and dressed in leather jeans with spikey back hair.

“Hey girl,” he said, leaning towards me and speaking directly in my ear. “I haven’t seen you before. What gives?”

I flirted back. “I’m Morgan!” I shouted above the loud beat, pushing my breasts out.

“Oh great, Laura’s my favorite name,” he said, eyeing my décolletage. Evidently, names didn’t really matter, but I was determined to roll with it. He was movie-star handsome, a lot like my steps, and his torso was covered with tats, also like my brothers. I didn’t even bother to wonder why he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His body was chiseled and defined, his abs taut as he guided me through the crowd.

Before I knew it, we were making out in a dark corner of the club. It started out sweet, a soft graze of his lips against mine, but pretty soon his tongue was pushing into my mouth, insistent and wet, like a huge snake invading my private space. Plus, his hands, which had delicately skimmed my curves at first, were soon gripping and squeezing really hard, hurting as he cruelly twisted my nipples.

“Mmmphf!” I cried, as I tried to push him away. But his arms were like a straitjacket, his face mashed to mine as his hips ground harshly against my pelvis. He pinched and twisted even harder and thrust a heavy leg between my thighs, pulling me roughly up his body as I screamed into his mouth, my small fists trying to beat him away.#p#分页标题#e#

“Shut up slut,” he ground out, before reaching between us. Instead of stroking my pussy, as I’d imagined a lover would do, he nastily pinched the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, leaving bruise marks on my creamy skin.

This time I positively screamed, my shrieks lost in the pounding beat, and tears sprang to my eyes from my utter helplessness. I’d never imagined that my big night out would end like this. I was coerced, my virginity about to be lost to a gorilla, when suddenly he was ripped off of me, the cold air of the club blasting my skin.

Cole and Landon stood there, my hero stepbrothers, rage in their eyes as they glared at my attacker. In person, I realized he was only a poor simulation of my brothers, like a B-rated version of the Mona Lisa. With the originals present, he was nothing compared to their masculinity, the aura of alpha radiating from their forms.

“Get the fuck away,” growled Cole, a nasty gleam in his eye.