Chapter 12: hao and anxinie part 2
Hao’s hand clamped over her lower belly, fingers splayed, pressing down hard to mold her flesh against the deep, internal prodding. The pressure made her whine, a high, broken sound, as she felt him somehow even more intimately, a phantom shape moving inside her. She turned her head, her vision blurry, until she found Anxin’s dark eyes. “Daddy…I wanna play with you. Please.” Anxin smirked, his thumb brushing her swollen bottom lip. “Look at you,” he said, his voice low with contemptuous wonder. “Getting fucked stupid by him and still begging for me. You’re a greedy little thing , aren’t you?” She didn’t answer, just fumbled for his waistband with her cuffed hands, the clumsy struggle making him laugh. He helped her, freeing himself, and her breath hitched at the heavy, thick weight of him in her palm. “No wonder I couldn’t take you,” she breathed, her strokes already eager. Hao drove into her harder, his rhythm becoming jagged. “She’s right,” he grunted, his breath hot on her neck. “You split her open. I can feel how loose she is for me now.” The degradation coiled hot in her stomach. Anxin guided her hand, showing her a tighter, slower grip. “Make it good, you needy baby, or I’ll just watch him break you.” Behind her, Hao’s pace turned punishing, each thrust jolting her whole body forward. “I can feel him,” Hao snarled, his fingers digging into her hip bone. “I can feel you thinking about his dick while I’m buried in your cunt.” The contradiction of it—filled by one, owned by both—unraveled the last of her control.
The contradiction of it—filled by one, owned by both—unraveled the last of her control. She stroked Anxin at a slow but harsh pace, her fist squeezing him with a desperate, rhythmic intensity that felt like a separate heartbeat. She needed him to cum or she would die, her entire being narrowing to the slick, hot slide of her hand on his skin. His head was thrown back against the headboard as he watched her, his jaw tight, before his hand suddenly tangled in her hair. He shoved her mouth onto him, the thick crown pushing past her lips with a force that stole her breath. “Suck, you little slut,” Anxin growled, his hips lifting to meet her, forcing himself deeper into her throat. She gagged, tears springing to her eyes as her nose pressed into the coarse hair at his base. “Open wider,” he demanded, his voice ragged, as he used her hair to guide a brutal, shallow rhythm.
The salt-bitter taste of him flooded her mouth, a dark, musky tang that was pure Anxin. She couldn’t help but whine around his dick, the vibration earning a sharp tug of her hair, the sound communicating just how good he tasted. He smirked down at her, watching her swollen lips work,the tip of his dick grazing the roof of her mouth with each shallow thrust. Both guys were so close, their breathing fractured; Hao’s pistoning hips stuttered, and Anxin’s thighs tensed under her hands. “Anxin, my face,” she gasped, pulling off him with a wet pop, her voice shredded and desperate. “Cum all over my face. Claim me.” He groaned, the sound ripped from his chest, at how good she felt and how obscenely hot she just sounded. Just then Hao hit that one spot, a deep, grinding thrust that shattered the last of her composure. “Fuck, Daddy, right there, oh fuck!” she screamed, the orgasm tearing through her, blinding and violent, her cunt clenching wildly around him. “Hao. My tits. Come on my tits.” Both guys looked at each other over her shuddering body, a mirrored smirk of pure predatory satisfaction at how needy she sounded, demanding their cum on her skin. Anxin’s hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back as her hand picked up speed. “Open your mouth, you filthy angel,” he commanded, his voice thick and trembling. His release painted hot streaks across her tongue, her cheeks, her eyelids, the scent of it musky and sharp in her nostrils. Hao’s rhythm broke apart completely, his grunts animalistic, as he pulled out of her soaking cunt. He shoved her onto her back, the handcuffs jerking her arms above her head, and aimed himself at her heaving chest. His cum landed in hot, pulsing ribbons across her breasts, mixing with the sweat on her skin, marking her just as he’d promised he would long ago in that amber-lit car.
The wet heat of it was a brand, a claim that seeped into her skin. She panted, her body a trembling map of their ownership, the metal cuffs cold against her wrists. Both guys hovered over top of her and looked down at how pretty this sight was.
Hao let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Fuck, Anxinie. Look at our work.” Her skin was sheened with sweat and streaked with white, her lips swollen, her eyes glazed and submissive. They both had to take a picture of this.
Anxin was already reaching for his phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting his satisfied face. “You’re a masterpiece, baby,” he muttered, aligning the shot. The camera shutter clicked, a stark, digital sound in the room heavy with animal scent.
“Again,” Hao commanded, pulling his own phone out. Caitlyn arched her back, a silent plea for more, her fingers beginning to move over her slick stomach. She gathered the cooling fluid, mixing theirs together, and smeared it across her collarbone.
The shutter clicked twice more. “Ruin yourself,” Anxin urged, his voice husky. Caitlyn obeyed completely, rubbing their releases all over her body. She painted her throat, her breasts, marking her own skin with the evidence of her use.
Needing it everywhere, she dipped her fingers lower, through the sticky mess on her belly, and down between her thighs. She rubbed their mingled come into her swollen, oversensitive folds, a broken sob escaping her. The cameras captured it all—the absolute surrender, the filthy devotion.
“That’s our girl,” Hao breathed, lowering his phone. His thumb traced a clean line through the mess on her sternum. “You finally look full.”
The air hung thick with the scent of sex and salt, a tangible record of their possession etched onto her skin. Hao’s thumb, still tracing her sternum, came away glistening. Caitlyn’s eyes, dark and unfocused, tracked the movement.
A tremulous sigh escaped her, part exhaustion, part awe at the wreckage they’d made of her. Her gaze slid from Hao’s face down to her own body, a canvas of their blatant use. A deep, craving pull originated from that hollow place that four weeks of absence had carved inside her.
It was a need more profound than physical satiation. Slowly, with a deliberate slowness that captured both men’s complete attention, she raised her trembling, sticky fingers to her face. Hao went very still, his breathing audibly catching.
Anxin leaned forward, a dark, fascinated intensity burning in his eyes. She held their combined gaze, a silent challenge laced with absolute submission, before parting her lips. Finally, Caitlyn gathered some of the release on her fingers and sucked on them, needing to taste them.
Her tongue swirled around her own fingers, cleaning them with a ragged, needy moan that vibrated in her throat. The taste was complex, musky and bitter, a potent amalgamation of them that she drew deep into herself. “jesus,” Hao whispered, the word full of a stunned reverence.
Anxin simply watched, captivated, as her eyes fluttered shut in something like reverence. She sucked her fingers clean with a desperate, hungry rhythm, swallowing every trace. “You fucking love it, don’t you?” Anxin breathed, not a question but a statement of raw fact.
“your ours now.” hao said.