Page 2 of Midnight Curfew

I start to unfasten my belt.

Her eyes go wide again, and she shakes her head. “No, no, no…” she whimpers, trying to look around us toward her husband. “We have money. We can pay.”

Tyson walks around the left side of the bed, Rip to the right.

“Timothy?” she begs her husband.

The fidgeting, the staggered breathing, the muscles flexing in her thighs…God, she’s good.

Beautiful, too. I clench my jaw, my dick swelling so hard I need out of these clothes.

I turn my eyes over my shoulder, her husband sitting with his hands tied behind him and a rope securing his torso to the chair.

“You can buy yourself another week.” I give him one last chance. “A finger or a fuck?”

He opens his mouth, then darts his eyes to his wife and back to me.

“All three of you?” he asks.

She sucks in a breath, and I exhale a laugh. Of course he’d rather trade her than one of his fingers.

He trembles. “You won’t hurt her?”

My eye twitches even as I hide a smile behind the bandana, equal parts disgusted and elated.

Fucking piece of shit…

But would any St. Carmen fat-cat plutocrat choose differently? Their women are commodities to them, but unlike prime real estate, they are also replaceable.

She deserves a real man.

“Timothy?” she whimpers, the panic draining the color from her doll-like face.

I turn to the side, letting him see her. “I need your help, baby,” he pleads in a soothing voice, as if he’s talking to a child. His cock in his black pants juts through the fabric. “I need you to let these boys fuck you.”

A stricken look hits her eyes, her tits jiggling with her panic.

“Let” us…

What the fuck is he going to do if she says no? Stop us?

They’re not letting us do anything.

Belt hanging open, I unfasten my pants as Tyson and Rip pull open their belts. “Take off your panties,” I say in a low voice, eyeing her.

She gasps, scrambling backward, but I grab an ankle and haul her to the end of the bed.

Lashing out, she kicks, swinging her arms as I reach down and take hold of her.

Mrs. Coldwell scurries back again, and I drop a knee to her mattress, yanking her in by the backs of her legs and hauling her up to straddle my lap.

I wrap my arms around her. “Shh…” I breathe close to her lips.

Tits press into my chest as the bitch squirms, only making my dick harder the more she grinds. I tighten my hold, but there’s not much to hold on to. Her skin is as smooth as water, so much so that she feels like she’s going to slip out of my hands.

But her scent drifts up to my nose, flowers and shit, and I love how these women smell, because it’s always better once you mix it with sweat.

Untying the bandana, I let it fall off my face and gaze down into her sweet expression. The pinch between her eyebrows softens and lifts, going from frightened to…something else.