The Siren Series 3: Brandon (A Siren Novel) (16 page)

6

Zoe moved away from Darrell, his suggestion the perfect one to jerk her out of her post-coital stupor. He held her up or she would have dropped.

Zoe felt like she just got fucked by a tree trunk.

It was painful, and oh-so wonderful. Her pussy felt like an abused and swollen flower. But deep down, she was ready to be banged by the rest of the men, she knew it.

But first,
the fun
. She'd make that bad girl Dara pay for setting her up. Making sure she was the one in charge this time. A small smile pulled at the corners of Zoe's lips as she moved forward. Her eyes stole to a hanging Dara, having been fucked by Kurt already.

The firefighters were a stamina-driven posse
, Zoe noticed with a chuckle. But then,
so were they.

Darrell held up the nozzle, gooped with her juices and the proof of her supreme fucking and she took it from him.

Dara eyed the huge phallus and tried to back away as cum leaked down her thighs. But she was tied and couldn't get away. Zoe's smile grew as Dara's eyes just got bigger and bigger as she came nearer.

“Boys,” Zoe said and the four men gathered around. “Spin my bestie.”

The men did as they were told.

*

Dara was whirled around to face the wall. She felt small hands spread her ass cheeks and wiggled around, the cum on her thighs slicking them together. But she was effectively pinned, her forehead pressed against the stone, her heart racing.

“Hold those cheeks wide guys,” Zoe said.

Dara's arms were now crossed above her head and she let her head drop and opened her eyes toward the floor and there was Darrell's face, so close to the entrance of her pussy that she could feel the heat of his breath on the sensitive flesh, his eye very brown against his white irises, his mouth hidden under the mound of her sex.

Darrell wound those big hands around Dara's thighs and while he held her eyes, ran his tongue in one long stroke up the center of her. Dara threw her head back from the sensation of it just as Zoe pushed the ball-tipped phallus inside her tight ass bud, driving Dara's forearms into the stone and deeper into Darrel's face. Dara resisted collapsing against the stone, which forced the toy deeper and Dara grunted as it sunk in another inch and Darrell began to suck her clit and swirl his tongue over the swollen nub.

“No,” Dara whispered, it was almost more than she could bear, pleasure and pain becoming blurred lines.

“Yes,” Zoe said and added lube to the already juiced up nozzle. She wanted to ass-fuck Dara but wanted to hear her beg for it.

Zoe met Darrell's eyes and gave him a sharp nod and he inserted a finger inside Dara and began a slow pump of her pussy, as he used the flat of his tongue to lap at each side of her narrow lips, sucking one into his mouth in a pull that traveled from the top to the bottom then up again. Dara began to pant, he was using two fingers now and lathing her pussy lips as her ass began to spread and accept the huge dong.

Zoe added more lube and pressed deeper. Dara automatically closed her ass.

“No!” Zoe said, giving Dara's pale ass a hard slap. “Loosen your asshole, Dara- or I'll plug this whole fucker up there!”

Dara relaxed so she could let Zoe plug her ass with the huge dong.

“Beg you naughty slut, tell Zoe how much you want me to fuck your ass.”

Dara whimpered as the huge phallus made its way home in her ass. She'd never taken anything bigger... deeper.

“Beg!” Zoe yelled in a hissing whisper that still managed to be loud.

“Fuck my ass,” Dara said in a low voice, pushing her hips against the thing spearing her as Darrell took his fingers out then inserted his hot tongue in her throbbing pussy.

Zoe leaned in, working the phallus, working it deeper. “What did you say? I want to hear you beg for it, Dara.”

Dara gave a hard swallow, her toes barely grazing the concrete floor. “Fuck my ass with the nozzle!” she yelled and Zoe grinned, adding more lube then plunging it home.

Dara let out a hoarse shout at the full invasion and Zoe spanked her ass on the other cheek as Dara gave a satisfied shudder.

Kevin said, “Speaking of plugging...”

Zoe felt Kevin move behind her, his pants fell to his ankles in a whisper. When his cock brushed the entrance of her ass she moved her legs apart as she pulled the dong out then regained that inch of Dara's tight ass. Zoe noticed Dara was eager, her hips moving with a little back and forth motion, trying to grab more of the phallus inside her hot hole.

Darrell watched Kevin begin to ass-fuck Zoe, his hands digging into her ass globes and spreading her apart. Darrell got even hotter, his cock a  throbbing need to blast off and he began moving quicker on tonguing Dara, adding a third finger inside her dripping cunt.

“Wow... nice round ass,” Kevin said admiring Zoe's tight ample mounds as he began to fuck her nice and hard, her body bouncing as Darrell watched her big tits smack her body from below.

“Almost there, Dara,” Zoe breathed out as her ass was driven hard, she managed to get that last inch up Dara's ass as Darrell flicked his tongue that last, critical time and Dara came hard. The phallus escaped the hatch of her ass from that hard won last inch, the pulsing of her orgasm driving it out. Zoe palmed it in again as Kevin began the pounding that would bring him to orgasm.

Zoe made the mistake of turning her face to the right and was met by a cock, her hand still held against the phallus buried in Dara's ass. Butch didn't ask if she wanted it in her mouth or not, permission was for sissies. One second he was beating off at the lush sight of the double ass-fucking the next he was cramming his dick down Zoe's throat and shooting all his hot come as she deep throated him.

Zoe swallowed as she kept the flat of her palm against the homemade dildo in Dara's ass. Dara's panting turned to hoarse shouts. Eyes wide, dick in both her ass and mouth, Zoe managed to drag the monster out of Dara's ass and with a mighty shove, she slammed it back in place just as Kevin unloaded inside her ass in a jetting stream of hot cum. It filled her, tipping her right into another powerful orgasm. Her view was Dara's filled and pulsating ass while her boyfriend licked her friend's pussy and two dicks filled her holes. It was hot as fuck.

Butch staggered back, letting his limp prick drop from Zoe's mouth as Kevin caught her around the waist, sweeping her into his arms, his wet prick squeezed between their bodies.

Dara's body drooped, Darrell wiping her pussy juices off with the undone cuff of his sleeve.

Kurt spun Dara around and gently began to extract Kevin's wonderful pleasure tool out of an ass that still gripped it like it wasn't done. Kurt knew he could fix that if she needed more cock. His was already hardening as he pulled the cork out of her ass. Dara moaned and writhed as it slid slowly out.

Darrell stood and untied Dara, catching her as she began to fall.

Zoe stared at Dara from the circle of Kevin's arms as Darrell held her up, naked from the waist up, her beautiful skirt a crunched black tube at her waist.

Dara lay limply against Darrell, recovering. She locked gazed with Zoe and a slow self-satisfied grin spread across her face, her parts well-used but not done.

Not finished by a long shot.

“So what do you think about your boyfriend now?” Dara asked in a soft purr as Darrell grinned over her shoulder.

Zoe looked at Darrell, then took in the faces of his firefighter buddies, each one playing a part in pleasuring them.

“I think I'll keep him,” Zoe said.

Dara caught the wink, but the men didn't.

Turn around is fair play,
Dara thought.

THE END

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A dark romantic suspense

Volume One

Copyright © 2013 Marata Eros

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved.
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“Love sears the heart immortal

The embers burnt down to the token which remains ....”

~ Prologue ~

“You're dying,” Dr. Matthews says.

Two words.

Final.

Complete.

Desolate.

I feel my fingers clench the armrests of the chair underneath me, but the rest of my body remains numb.

If his words aren't enough to convince me, I see my silence is a prevailing annoyance in his day.

Dr. Matthews walks stiffly, making his way to the softly glowing X-ray reader.

I flinch when he slaps the photo of the soft tissue of my brain against the magnetic tabs of the lit surface.

The light glows around the tumor, immortalizing the end of my life like an emblazoned tool of disregard.

Just the facts, ma’am.

I sway as I stand, gripping the solid oak of his desk. It's very large, an anchor in the middle of his prestigious office full of the affectations of his career.

I walk toward Matthews. His hard face is edged by what might be sympathy. After all, it's not every day he tells a twenty-two-year-old woman she's got moments to live.

Actually, I do have time—months.

It's just not enough.

I look at the mess that's my brain, at the damning half a golf ball buried in a spot that will make me a vegetable if they operate. My eyes slide to the name at the bottom. For a split second, I hope to see another name there. But my own greets me.

Mitchell, Faren.

I back up and Matthews reaches to steady me.

But it's too late.

I spin and run out of his office as his voice calls after me. The corners of my coat sail behind me as I slap the metal hospital door open and take the cement steps two at a time.

I see my car parked across the street and race to it. My escape, my despair, is a thundering initiative I can't deny.

I miss the hit as if it happens to someone else. Only the noise permeates my senses as light flashes in my peripheral vision, mirrors against sunlight. I tumble in a slow spin of limbs. My body heaves and rolls, hitting the asphalt with a breath-stealing slap.

I lie against the rough black road. My lungs beg for air, burning for oxygen, and finally I take a sucking inhale that tears through my lungs.

The wet road feels cool against my face as I watch someone come into my line of sight. My body burns and my head aches. My arm is a slim exclamation point from my body, my fingers twitching. I can't make them stop. I can't make anything stop.

Powerless.

The doctor is too late with his condemning words. I've already died. I know this because the man who approaches is an angel. A helmet comes off hair so deep auburn it's a low-burning lick of flame. He swims toward me like a mirage, walking in a surreal slow motion. I blink, and my vision blurs. I try to raise my arm to wipe my eyes and whimper when it disobeys my command.

My angel crouches down, his eyes a deep brown, belying the dark bronze of his hair. “Shhh... I got you.” His voice is a deep melody.

I sigh. Safe.

I try to focus on him but the helmet he parks next to his boots becomes three as my vision triples.

There's a scuffle and I try to move to see what all the commotion's about. The angel wraps his warm large hand around my smaller one and  smiles. “It's going to be okay.”

That's when I know I'm not in heaven.

That's what people say when nothing is okay.