Page 37 of The Never Queen

“Fuck, Darling, you are dripping wet,” my brother says from beneath her.

She rocks her hips back, meeting us both all the way to the base.

“I like…” She tenses and then sucks in a breath. “Oh god. I’m close.”

“You hear that, Kas,” Bash says. “She can barely contain herself.”

I wind her hair around my hand and yank her head back, planting a rough kiss on the curve of her neck. “She likes being filled up by the two of us. Don’t you, Darling?”

“Yes,” she says around a pant. “Don’t stop. Please.”

But the back door opens and shuts with a thud, and the air pressure in the house changes and the second Peter Pan and Vane are in the room, hunger is filling the air like a sandstorm, threatening to bury us all.

Pan sits in the chair across from the couch and slouches, his head propped in the palm of his hand.

Vane crosses the room. “Winnie Darling,” he says and grabs her by the throat, bending her up to him. “Such a pretty whore getting fucked on the couch, but I see one thing missing.”

I feel her tighten around me, sensing what’s to come.

“What?” she asks.

“One open hole.”

18

WINNIE

When I was little, maybe ten or eleven years old, I somehow made a friend at school who invited me to a local theme park. I’d never been to a park before. We didn’t have the money for that. I was unsure of the roller coasters or the spinning rides. It looked like fun, but there were a lot of people screaming once they got on them, the wind whipping their hair, their bodies yanked from one place to the other.

I was hooked after the first roller coaster.

The anticipation as the coaster click-clicked its way up to the top, then the immediate fall, the weightlessness, the feeling of being out of control as butterflies spin in your stomach and you’re propelled forward.

That’s what being fucked by the boys all at once feels like.

Every day is the anticipation of having them, and then once I do, I’m holding on for dear life, terrified of my hands and body being empty of them.

And like a roller coaster, I never want it to end. Yet I know the ending is rocketing forward and I can’t stop it.

Vane tips my head back and fills my mouth and across the room, I feel Pan’s attention on me, drinking in the scene, me being fucked and filled and used.

Bash arches his back, sinking deeper inside of me, and finding the right angle to build the friction at my already throbbing clit.

Every shift of his hips sends me closer and closer to the edge.

I both want to sail to the end and am already sad for it to be over.

I want more. More and more. More and more and more.

Vane shoves hair out of my face and looks me right in the eyes, his thumb pressing at the corner of my mouth where his cock is filling me up. He tightens his grip on my chin as he spills down my throat.

Kas comes next, then Bash, his hands all over my body, trying to coax me to my own release.

But Peter Pan stops him.

“No, Bash,” he commands. “Get over here, Darling.”

The boys disentangle themselves from me, leaving me throbbing, soaked, and dripping with their cum.