Sex Retreat(49)

“Hellfire,” he rasped, his fingers kneading her skin.

Brock’s eyes were like fiery green lights, as emerald in color as she’d ever recalled. Lust settled there and a bit lower, too. The bulge between his thighs was quite visible from across the room.

Mitch leaned over her back. Nipping at her lobe, he whispered, “I’m preparing you for better times, lover.”

He tucked his arm under her and stroked her folds, pinching her intimate lips together until she whimpered. The sensation was indescribable as he held her folds together then forced a small point of entry, prying her pussy lips apart with one thrust of his finger.

“Mmm,” Trixie hummed, stretching her arms forward and bowing her head.

“That’s my sweet sub,” Mitch said, dipping another firm digit into her center and stirring her hot juices with two fingers and then three.

Trixie was surprisingly responsive, even relaxed and calm. She was enjoying herself.

Mitch traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. He lowered his hand and rubbed the sleek moisture from her pussy to the small pucker tucked between her globes.

Tightening her bottom, she anticipated the penetration, fearing the first entry would send her into an orgasm before her time.

“More?” he asked, tickling the tight entrance with his thumb.

“Oh yes.”

He pressed his thumb against her rectum, wiggling the digit higher. Her body sucked at the pad, drawing him closer, seducing the act, begging for it.

“Such a naughty girl,” Mitch said, reaching for the prepared ginger inches away from her elbow. Selecting one of the offshoots, he shook the glistening ice water from the finger and showed the bulb to her, teasing her with the anticipation of eroticism set to begin.

Trixie studied the thick bulb then focused on Rory’s heated expression for any sign of growing angst. He, too, looked anxious and ready. Brock, however, showed signs of struggle, acting as if he were seconds away from taking control or perhaps ready to stop the acts unfolding.

Her gaze dipped lower. She glared at Brock’s denim-clad cock and wet her lips. She sucked in and out, puckering and releasing, giving him something more delicious to consider.

A crooked smile claimed his lips. “You’re in trouble, sub.”

Rory’s head jerked to attention. “Where’d that come from?”

“I told you what to expect if Trixie wanted Mitch back. You need to make up your mind if you’re in or you’re out.” Brock marched across the room and took his position opposite Mitch on the other side of the counter. Standing at her head, Brock unhooked his belt and lowered his jeans.

“There you go, baby,” he whispered, dragging his cock across the seam of her lips. “Show me what ’cha got for me.”

Trixie fluttered her eyelashes and dropped her head over his engorged head, tapping her tongue against the crest before sucking him between her cheeks. At the same time, Mitch spread her globes and dragged a moistened finger down the seam of her ass, twisting the digit around and around searching for her secluded entrance.

Rolling her tongue, she slurped at Brock’s tip, drawing his hard penis between her lips and mashing down on the crest by using the roof of her mouth.

A heavy moan resounded, and his vocal release overpowered hers as Mitch thrust the piece of ginger deep inside her channel, twisting and turning the root until the bulb was securely in place. A sigh almost escaped her lips, but Brock forced the weight of his cock forward, preventing her from a full-fledged moan.

His jaw flexed. He thumped against her throat, throwing his hips forward before deliberately thrusting them back.

“This is what you always wanted, Trixie.” Brock brushed his knuckles across her jaw and pumped his cock between her lips, grinding against her throat as she swallowed again and again.

Trixie worked her reflexes, training her throat for repetitive oral activity. She craved his taste, longed for his spicy finish.

“So pretty,” Mitch crooned, stroking her bottom with some sort of object.

She flattened her tongue against the underside of Brock’s cock, rubbing the texture with firm strokes until his eyes were as moist as her mouth.

“Baby, that’s sweet. So sweet,” he rasped, changing his stance.

While giving Brock head, Trixie was aware of Mitch behind her, playing with the end of the bulb, shoving it up her rectum, wiggling it away from her bottom, then locking the ginger in place once again.

She hummed as the fiery effects coated her channel. The burning sensitized her walls as if to slowly coax her into the idea of the sex waiting for her, the orgasms she’d eventually experience.

Mitch slapped her hip with the object and she bucked in response. Her head bounced over Brock’s cock while she tried to avert her gaze and catch a glimpse of what Mitch held in his hand.