Page 23 of To Die For

The orgasm that I’d been riding the edge of crashes into me with obliterating force.

I scream, a raw, continuous sound as my body convulses against the restraints, my cunt milking the vibrating toy, my back arched off the cold stone. The pleasure is so intense it borders on agony, waves and waves of it ripping through me.

White Mask keeps the vibrator pressed deep, drawing out every last shuddering spasm until I collapse, spent and shaking, onto the table.

He pulls the toy out with a wet sound, turning it off. The sudden silence is deafening. I can only lie there, panting, tears of overwhelm leaking from the corners of my eyes.

Burlap Sack drops the flogger on the floor with a soft thud. I hear the rasp of his zipper. “My turn. That pretty little mouth has been empty for too long.”

He doesn’t ask. He shuffles forward, his thick cock sliding over my lips. I open my mouth instinctively, and he pushes inside, filling it, his familiar taste flooding my senses. I suck him weakly, my body still trembling from the aftershocks.

White Mask moves between my splayed legs, his own cock hard again. He guides himself to my well-fucked, oversensitive entrance. “I’m filling this cunt up again, Lila. You’re gonna take every fucking drop.”

He thrusts in, and I moan around Burlap’s cock, the feeling of being filled at both ends a familiar, welcome fullness. They set a rhythm, fucking my face and my pussy in tandem, their grunts and the wet sounds of our bodies filling the small room.

Black Mask watches for a moment before moving to the side of the table. He produces a small, glass bottle of clear oil. He pours a slick stream onto his fingers, then begins to stroke himself.

“This tight little hole is going to learn to love my cock, Lila,” he murmurs. “I’m going to prepare it properly. I’m going to open you up so slowly, so carefully, that by the time I’m buried inside you, you’ll be begging for it.”

I am completely, utterly surrounded. Used. Owned. Burlap Sack is fucking my throat, White Mask is pounding my weeping cunt, and Black Mask is watching… waiting to take me and make sure I know I belong to him.

The pleasure is a tidal wave, pulling me under, and I let it, my muffled moans the only sound I can make.

CHAPTER 15

LILA

The cold stone bites into my back, a stark contrast to the heat of the three men using me. Burlap’s thick cock fills my mouth, his hips pumping a steady rhythm against my face. White Mask is buried deep in my pussy, his thrusts punishing.

A sharp, metallic screech cuts through the wet sounds of our fucking.

It’s the door at the top of the stairwell.

Everyone freezes. White Mask’s hips still. Burlap’s cock goes slack in my mouth. Black Mask stops working his cock.

Footsteps. Heavy, unfamiliar boots on the stairs, and a fourth figure emerges into the dim light of the chamber.

This mask is different.

Cheap plastic, a grotesque, leering devil’s face. He’s big, almost as big as Burlap Sack, and he reeks of cheap beer and arrogance. He takes in the scene: me, naked and spread-eagled and being fucked on a stone table, the three masked men surrounding me.

He lets out a low, grating whistle. “Well, well. What do we have here? The main event started without me?”

White Mask pulls out of me with a wet sound, turning slowly. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he says, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

The Devil Mask laughs, taking a swaggering step forward. “Maze is open to the public, fucker. Looks like you found the best prize. I want in. Time to share.”

“No,” Black Mask says. The word is quiet, absolute. He doesn’t even look at the intruder. His featureless gaze is fixed on White Mask, a silent communication passing between them.

“The fuck you mean, ‘no’?” The Devil Mask puffs out his chest. “I’m not asking. Either I join the party, or I start screaming for the cops. How’s that sound?”

It happens faster than I can process.

White Mask moves first. A blur of motion. He doesn’t throw a punch. He lunges, grabbing the man’s wrist and wrenching his arm behind his back in one brutal, fluid motion. The man yelps in surprise and pain.

Burlap Sack is there instantly. He doesn’t hesitate. His big hand clamps over the Devil Mask’s mouth, muffling his startled shout. With his other hand, he grabs a handful of the man’s hair and yanks, snapping his head back with a sickening crack of vertebrae.

The sound is short, sharp, and final.