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She squeals. Carter holds her by one ass cheek, his palm huge on her round, delectable ass. He keeps her in place for me, lets me take his spot. Groans loudly when I slap Amara’s tight hole with my cock, then spit on it.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her brown eyes find mine over her shoulder.
We know she didn’t. Both Carter and I heard her loud and clear earlier. We didn’t need this little stunt to respect or adore her more than we had, either. But I can’t deny the scene that we walked into was one of the hottest things I’d ever witnessed.
As does the idea of making her hurt.
“Should’ve thought about that before.” I line the tip of my cock to her tight hole, rubbing the wetness into the rim while pushing her head back to the bed.
Hiding from her what Carter and I have planned.
“You really should’ve.” Carter spits on Cyclone’s handle while I tease her asshole, then aligns the end of the black handle over the spot where I tease her. “Too bad we can’t erase the past. You’re going to lie here and take your punishment. If you’re a good girl, we’ll even make you come.”
I pull back, and he quickly places the handle on Amara’s spit-soaked asshole. She barely manages to realize we’ve swapped places when he pushes it inside her.
“Fuck.” She clenches her ass, legs trembling. “Fuck, Carter, not with Cyclone.”
“Yes, with Cyclone.” He sinks another inch inside, then out. In and out.
Amara’s body falls to the bed, her stomach almost hitting the mattress. Carter stops and I’m quick to wrap an arm around her middle, thrusting her back up.
Now that her face isn’t mashed into the bed, she tucks her hair away from her sweat-stricken face, glowering at us. “I hate you.”
“Nah, you don’t hate us.” Carter, unbothered by Amara’s words, continues slipping his killing tool in and out of her.
Some of the tension releases from her, and slowly, she opens up for us. Then the moans come. Such beautiful moans.
I shouldn’t be this turned on from watching my stepson fuck our girlfriend’s ass with a foreign object.
I am. Every sick part of me is.
“Look at her taking it.” I throw at him. “If you keep that up, I’m going to get real fucking jealous.”
I pretend to ignore her. Truth is, I don’t miss anything about Amara. Especially not the blush exploding on her cheeks.
“Then again.” I gather saliva in my mouth, spitting on her asshole when Cyclone’s out. “Maybe I do want you to come from this. Carter?”
“You know I do.” His biceps flex and I can tell it takes every ounce of him not to act on his urges and fuck her harder. “She’ll be screaming for my knife.”
His cock thickens too. I reach for him, flicking my thumb on his piercing, gathering his precum on my thumb, and suck on it.
“I already told you I would never.” Her angry denial reaches straight to my balls. “Twisted fucks.”
“Amara, Amara, Amara.” I use my free hand to slap her ass. “You should be grateful for the plastic fucking your ass right now. We could’ve been less merciful. I could’ve gone in dry, split you in half.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
“Maybe we should.” I fist Carter’s cock again, and he thrusts into my touch. “Make you scream.”
“Oh, pet.” Carter removes the knife carefully and loses it before removing his shoes, socks, pants, and briefs. “I’m gonna have so much fun fucking you into submission.”
A low whimper is all we get.
I slap her ass. “You’re here?”
“Ow. Yes.”
Carter crawls up the bed, sitting against the headboard. I shove Amara higher up, closer to him.
