"She likes when we tell her how good she is," he observes, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "How perfect. How brave."
Each word sends another pulse of arousal through me, making me squirm. "Please," I whisper, beyond caring how needy I sound. "Please, I need?—"
"We know exactly what you need, beautiful," Zayn assures me, positioning himself between my legs. "And we're going to give it to you until you can't handle it anymore. Just be patient a little longer."
Dmitri moves up the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He guides me toward him, large hands gentle on myshoulders as he positions me between his spread legs, my back to his chest.
"Comfortable?" he checks, his accent thicker now with arousal.
I nod, leaning back against his solid warmth. From this position, I can see Zayn kneeling between my spread thighs, his expression intent as he takes in the sight of me.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, hands stroking up my legs. "So perfect for us."
Dmitri's arms wrap around me from behind, one hand splayed across my stomach, the other cupping my breast. "Relax," he instructs, lips brushing my ear. "Let us take care of you."
And then Zayn is pushing inside me in one smooth thrust, filling me completely. Everything but his knot. The sensation makes me cry out, my body stretching to accommodate him.
"That's it," he praises, holding still to let me adjust. "Taking me so well."
Dmitri's hand moves from my stomach to between my legs, fingers finding my clit with unerring accuracy. "Good girl," he murmurs as I buck against the dual stimulation. "So responsive."
When Zayn starts to move, it's with considerable restraint. Each thrust is measured, hitting spots inside me that have me seeing stars. Dmitri's fingers match his rhythm, circling my clit with just the right pressure.
"Perfect," Zayn groans, his pace increasing slightly. "So tight and warm for me."
Their praise washes over me, heightening every sensation. I'm aware of being thoroughly controlled in this moment, played like an instrument by two virtuosos, but I can't bring myself to care. Not when it feels this incredible and the aim is my pleasure.
And theydidask nicely.
Dmitri shifts slightly behind me, and suddenly his cock is pressing against my lower back, hot and hard. "See what you do to me?" he murmurs, his free hand guiding my hand back to wrap around his length. "How much I want you?"
He's huge, my fingers barely meeting around him. The thought of eventually taking him—taking all of them—inside me, knots and all, sends another pulse of arousal through me.
"I need you," I pant. "In my mouth. Want to taste."
His gaze darkens at the desperation in my voice. Zayn pauses, and I whimper when he pulls out, but he grabs me by the waist, maneuvering me easily.
"Just trust me, beautiful," he murmurs, flipping me onto my hands and knees with ease. He's so much stronger, bigger. And when I find myself face to face with Dmitri's massive cock, I can't complain anymore about the loss.
Dmitri gently guides me toward his crown and I watch his gaze intensify as my lips wrap around the swollen crown. He mutters something in Russian that sounds profane and sultry at once, making my pussy throb.
Zayn is quick to fill me again, this time from behind. My hips buck violently in response, craving being filled again. Everything but the knot.
I moan around Dmitri's crown, barely able to get more than that into my mouth, but not for a lack of trying. The way his hand tightens in my hair and his eyes roll back is proof it's still enough.
"Your mouth is so hot and wet for me," Dmitri pants, his body vibrating with restraint as he resists bucking into me. "So perfect."
"She is," Zayn agrees, thrusting harder. I feel his knot bumping up against my pussy each time he thrusts, and I clench in response, hungry for it. I want it so fucking bad, the only thingkeeping me from begging is being unwilling to release Dmitri's shaft from my mouth.
They work me in tandem, one thrusting in while the other thrusts out, until I feel absolutely stuffed with them at both ends. But not enough. Not until they fill me. I want their come, Dmitri's down my throat and Zayn's stuffing my pussy until it dribbles down between my thighs.
I want them to fuck me, take me, fill me until there's no part of me left that they haven't touched or claimed.
"Come for us," Dmitri commands, his voice rumbling through me as his hand strokes my hair, then cradles the back of my head, gently guiding his cock just a bit deeper into my mouth. Enough that my jaw strains, but it's so fucking good, I don't care. I still want more. More of him. More of both of them. "Be a good girl and come."
The permission, the command, the praise—it all combines to push me over the edge. I come with a cry, my body clenching rhythmically around Zayn as waves of my orgasm crash through me. My pussy is so wet, I might as well be an omega in heat, each clench down on them my own way of begging for a knot I can't take yet. But knowing that logically doesn't make me want it any less.
"Fuck," Zayn hisses, his rhythm faltering as he follows me over, hips pressed flush against mine as he empties himself inside me. Dmitri is next, and I swallow down every hot pulse his release sends down over the back of my tongue, still milking him dry until he finally pulls out with a ragged growl of satisfaction.
