Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,56

they’d started this so soon after her climax, she was trapped in that hyperstimulated state, unable to go back or forward, imprisoned by their skill.

Her pleas became short screams as Niall began to thrust his tongue rhythmically in her, making her want to move her hips in an act of copulation against him. Evan hadn’t forbidden it, but he was making her stay still on his cock, so she assumed that meant the rest of her body. But oh, it was so hard.

She’d always anticipated what her vampire wanted before he wanted it, staying a step ahead and ready to shift gears at the exact moment he desired. Staying a step ahead of Evan was impossible, because he and Niall were fully on top, their demands like rushing water, powerful rapids taking away her ability to move or think . . .

“Please . . .” Her fingers dug into the floor.

“Now, Alanna. Start sucking me. If you come before I do, you’ll be in for quite a punishment.”

She got to work with a fervor that had his fingers tightening in her hair in reproof. “Easy,” he chuckled, a dark sensuous sound. “I’m the only one who uses fangs around here. Niall, take your pleasure.”

Yes. Oh . . . God.

Niall left the floor, fingers gliding up her legs. In the next moment, the head of his cock was pushing into her cunt. He stopped when it breached the gate, and she lifted her hips involuntarily, begging to be fucked, for him to come in deeper, harder.

“She’s hot for it now, Evan. Completely lost, pretty flower.”

“Fuck her, Niall. Be rough about it. That’s what she needs.”

The Scot sank into her wetness and the clenched postclimactic tissues. He stretched her painfully, but she welcomed every inch. He let out an unintelligible oath, a reverent expletive. Those large hands gripped her buttocks, nearly covering them as he began to work himself inside of her in long, powerful strokes. She tried to do the same with Evan’s cock, taking him deep, working her tongue furiously against him. Too fast. She needed to slow down, but she was ravenous, sucking and nipping at him, pulling hard as Niall fucked her. He was ruthless, making her feel the slap of his testicles against her clit with every thrust. She wanted to close her legs, reduce the sensation, but he knocked her legs farther apart, and she was lost.

She came again. Through the insanity of it, she kept trying to work Evan’s cock in her mouth. He wouldn’t let her use her hands. Holding her neck and hair, he pushed her down on him when she couldn’t coordinate her own movements, could only scream out her climax against his cock.

That wave kept coming. Was it possible the hypersexuality that came with being a third mark—a servant’s only chance of keeping up with a vampire’s insatiable sex drive—had not been impacted by the blocker? The thought energized her, renewed her resolve. She’d failed to wait for him to come first, but she would finish him. When he convulsed under her tongue, his thighs pressing against her shoulders hard, a precursor to ejaculation, she felt the surge of triumph. But then he drew her off him abruptly.

“Down on the floor, Alanna.” Naill withdrew as Evan spoke. “Faceup. Head between my feet, arms at your sides, legs closed.”

She was confused. What could he . . .

“Now,” he said sharply, and she dropped. She was looking up at his glistening erection, the heavy sack of his testicles, the spread of his thighs as he rose. As Niall moved forward, straddling her shoulders, Evan fed that beautiful cock into his servant’s mouth right above her. She imagined the pressure building, saw his testicles drawing up . . .

She’d wanted to feel him jetting against the back of her throat. But he’d denied her, because she’d failed the test, hadn’t she? She stared up at Niall, the ripple of muscle across his abdomen and through the long lengths of his thighs as he used his strength to increase his suction on his Master. She wanted to be part of it. She wanted . . .

By the InhServ oath, it didn’t matter what she wanted, what she felt. What mattered was what the Master wanted, and she’d failed. The shame and humiliation of this was her punishment.

She refused to let those horrible tears fall, though to do it she had to go cold and dead inside once again, cutting herself off from all feeling. If