Chapter 38

~~Natasha~~

“Holy shit,” Jessy said, eyes wide, leaning forward with hands gripping together. The two of them were sitting at Natasha’s counter in her apartment, her new apartment, sharing a corner and a bottle of blood. Antoinette had lent her some of her thralls to serve as moving crew, and they’d done quick work, so all her stuff was set up and ready for breaking in.

Natasha didn’t bother pouring a glass. She drank from the bottle directly, something she’d never do normally, and slid it a few inches across the counter to her friend.

“Yeah ... t-t-terrifying.”

“I mean, I knew about nasty shit like werewolves, but a giant spider monster? First it’s the Begotten, now it’s spider monster things taking over human bodies and ... fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” Jessy got up from her stool and shook out her legs as she rubbed herself down. “Feel like I got them on me!”

Giggling, Natasha waited for her friend to recuperate from her well-deserved fear of spiders, crawling up legs and getting into her clothes.

“It was s-s-scary ... no d-doubt about that.” But, oddly fun. Well, maybe not fun. No, not fun, fun was not the word. And poor Art, poor Matt. Stephanie died on that hunt, and while Natasha didn’t—hadn’t like her, she got the impression her two new friends did. Or at least, thought of Stephanie as family; like a pack of wolves.

“Cool hearing the kid come through like that though. Glad he’s Invictus.” Jessy sat down beside her again and took a drink of the blood with all the grace of a drunkard downing beer. “Wanna come back yet?”

“ ... no.” She sighed and shook her head. Not after what Maria did, not after what happened. Not after seeing all these things, and needing some sort of answer. “Come on, d-don’t ask me that.”

“I know I know, just kidding. So, over a whole night trapped with two of those sexy dogs. How’d that go?”

“It was nice! We p-played cards and talked and stuff. And Art told me about p-pack life a bit, and Matt and him joked about ... why are you looking at me like that?”

“You liiiiike them.” Jessy grinned, and slid the bottle back toward her.

“I—well, um, I d-do like them, they’re—”

“No no, not this ‘they’re my friends’ crap. I mean you like like them. I mean want to wake them up with a good morning blowjob like them.”

“Jessy! Not everything has to d-d-d ... d-devolve into sex!” This woman, ugh. Natasha entertained her friend’s sexual obsessions to a point, but she had a limit.

“I’m not saying it’s only about sex.” The Gangrel leaned in, frowned at her, and gave her a shove on the shoulder. “I talked to Matthew and Arturo earlier tonight I’ll have you know, and I got that impression. They like you, and not in your typical I-really-want-to-fuck-her way ... well, I got some of that too, but I meant moreso the other kind.”

“You ... you did?”

“Mmhmm. You should go visit them.”

“Visit? Did they—”

“Yeah, gave me the place they’re staying at. Still no phones though.” Jessy reached out for her and scooped her closer, arm hooking her shoulders in a hug. “Much as I think those wolves aren’t much better than dogs, god damn they are cute.”

“You j-just like anyone with ... b-b-big shoulders and whose tall.”

“I know what I like. And I know I wouldn’t like hanging out with those two much. Too much like me.”

Natasha raised a brow at her friend. That was an oddly self-aware statement for her. Weird. Maybe Jessy was getting wiser in her old age. Natasha sure wasn’t.

“ ... w-what should I do?”

“Do? Girl it’s not complicated, go hang out with them! Go say hello. Here, I got their address; it’s on the edge of South Side near North Side, Carthian district.” She grabbed a pen and a notepad — sticky notes were Natasha’s vice — and wrote down some numbers. “And get those dumbasses a phone. It’s the fucking teens of the century, and they don’t have smartphones?”

Go hang with them. She made it sound so easy, like you could just drop by someone’s place without first arranging a meeting, setting up a schedule, or at least texting them to see if they were free. Randomly dropping by? This wasn’t the 1800s!

But ... maybe she could? They didn’t have phones, so it wasn’t like they were exactly modern age.

“I see those eyes shifting around, thinking up strategies.” Jessy bonked her on the head, and Natasha whined as was custom, clutching her skull. “Stop thinking, and just go. Have fun. Be yourself.”

“Be myself ... b-be myself.”

“Well, maybe a little more like your current self? You know, fun Natasha, horny and slutty Natasha! Natasha who I’ve seen enjoy some pretty sexy stuff. Natasha who I’ve seen ride dick, with two more in her hands.”

“Jessy!”

“But also Natasha who went down into the tunnels with her two new friends. A little spontaneous, you know? Come on, go have fun!”

Nervous nervous nervous. So damn nervous. Why so nervous? All she was doing was visiting a couple of friends and saying thank you. That’s all. Nothing else to it.

So what if she’d drank both of them? Felt their warmth in her body? Their really ... really ... warm, thick blood. Felt their heat on her fingertips, on her fangs, smelled their musk. Animals, wolves ... men.

She shook her head, planted her palms against her eye sockets, and shook her head more until her hair was going everywhere. Grow up you big baby, and knock.

She knocked, and waited, and trembled. It was a different fear than being chased by monsters, but a fear all the same, the sort of fear that made her stutter worse, that made her mind race a million miles a second planning exit strategies.

But they deserved a thank you, and she did want to see them again. They were nice. At least Matt was nice. Art was ... not nice, in a fun way. Pushy, but also sneaky. Jessy was pushy too, but with zero sneak factor. With Art she could tell he was smart enough to trick her, but Matt counterbalanced his deviousness, made them enjoyable to be around. Being stuck in that tunnel for a whole night and then some had actually been sort of fun, when she forgot about the danger they were in.

The apartment door opened, and Matt’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Madam Vola!”

“Y-You ... you know to call me Natasha.”

“Right right. Sorry, come on in.” He threw open the door and motioned for her to enter. “Art and I were just watching some TV.”

It was a nice little apartment, something cheap and cozy. The whole pack had rented apartments in the same building, a favor from Garry to Avery, and cause the pack didn’t want to ever be too far from each other. She understood that, sort of.

Arturo looked over the couch back, and grinned at her.

“Little vampire come for more blood?”

“N-No! No, that’s ... I came ... c-came...” Arg, he was going to make this difficult, and smile at her the whole time. “Came t-t-t-t-to ... to say thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Yes. For ... for helping me, and ssssaving me, and ... and letting me ... drink when I had t-to.”

“Come on little vampire, you—”

“Stop t-teasing me!” She threw down her hands and stomped her foot. “I am ... I am older than you. I have d-done things you could never understand. I have ... I am not a child. Ssso you ... stop b-being an asshole.”

So much for thank yous. But Matt smiled, nodded, and motioned to Art. Neither of them had even winced with her sudden outburst. If anything, they seemed happy.

“We’re just teasing you cause we like you Natasha. Both of us. Come on in, get comfortable,” Matt said, before he sat down on the couch next to Art to resume watching the show. “After that fucking Azlu incident? Figured you’d know when we’re just playing.”

Art smiled at her, a new smile, the same sort of genuine smile Matt always used, and motioned with his head for her to do as his friend suggested.

Well, temper tantrum succeeded. She closed the door behind her, took off her shoes, and walked into the living room. Only the one couch, pointed at a nice TV showing a comedy drama. A witty one with dry humor, one she liked.

Should she sit down? The couch fit three people, but Art was a big guy, and Matt was an enormous guy; little room left in the middle of the couch. But Matt shifted over as best he could, and motioned for her again. So, she shrugged, took a deep breath, and sat down between the two werewolves.

Coming over to watch TV wasn’t exactly the plan, but she liked the show, and she kind of enjoyed the simplicity of the interaction. And better yet, Art and Matt were both watching it, without looking at her. Comfortable to watch the show with her, like Jessy would be. Like friends.

Matt and Art were both wearing jeans, though Matt had on a tight white t-shirt and blue jeans, and Art seemed to prefer a gray shirt and faded jeans. Both were a far cry from the suit she was wearing, so she took off her black jacket and set it on the end table. Now in black suit pants and a white shirt, she got comfortable, and laughed at the TV.

Ten minutes later, show over and a new one beginning, she looked to both of them, and tapped a finger on one of her hidden fangs.

“D-Do you only eat cooked meat?”

“You mean us two or the pack?” Art said. “Some of us need it raw, some of us need it fresh.” Art turned in his spot a bit to face her. “Some of us prefer to hunt in Hisil.”

Hisil? Right, the Shadow realm, where spirits like Safe existed. She shivered as she remembered it, and compared the beautiful, amazing memory against the creature the Uratha called Azlu.

“Eat spirits?”

They nodded as they watched the TV. They didn’t seem to mind that she was talking over the show either, and frequently broke eye contact with it to look at her. They were more interested in her than the show then.

Oh god they might eat Safe. She raised a hand to bring it up, but stopped herself. It was a big city, and she had no right to ask them what to hunt or not hunt in their world. Besides, Safe would stay safe, hopefully.

“ ... did ... d-did you ... umm ... Stephanie, I mean...”

Art and Matt both sighed, but Matt turned to look to her as he offered her something between a wince and smile.

“She died on a hunt, against the vilest, most dangerous prey. We’re sad she died, but—”

“But it was a good way to die.” Art peeked at Natasha for a moment, a crack of sadness there before he looked back to the TV. “Mason’s taking it pretty hard though.”

“Yeah.” Matt looked back as well, but she could tell he wasn’t really looking at the images anymore. “Those two hated each other.”

“They d-did?” she said. “Then ... w-why would he—”

“Hated each other like kids hate each other.” Art motioned to the TV, and the sitcom that had started playing. “Like a script from a show. I was sure they’d get together eventually.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t ever talked to Mason; hadn’t ever talked to any of them except for her two friends Art and Matt, really. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought her up. Yeah, that was dumb. “So, I should, uh ... I should g-get going.”

“Already?” Matt said.

“You should stay.” Art reached out and put a hand on her arm. “Nice having you around.”

“ ... what? W-Why? I just ... watched TV with you.” Touching her, he was touching her. And she wasn’t brushing his hand away.

“Trust us.” Art put his hand back in his lap, and smiled more of that frustrating smile. “Nice having you around, like talking to you. And the rest of the pack right now, after that double Azlu fuck up? Volatile as explosives.”

“That’s a common myth. M-M-Most explosives aren’t ... v-volatile...”

“Well, it’s nice having you over anyway. Maybe we could try one of those Kisses again? Maybe a little normal kissing to go with it?” Art said, a sly smile sneaking onto his face.

Whoa whoa, what? She frowned at the bastard, whose smile had turned into an evil grin. A most evil grin, worthy of stabbing. “Is ... is that why you think I’m over here?” Guess he wasn’t feeling too bad about Stephanie. Or maybe this was just how Art coped? Making bad jokes. A lot of people used humor like that.

“We’d be lying if we said we didn’t think you were attracted to us,” Matt said.

Us. Us? She looked over at Matt, and found the big guy smiling at her, excitement in his eyes. Art she could understand making bad jokes to hide mourning, but Matt? It wasn’t his style.

“I d-didn’t come over for ... for more blood ... or anything like that! I came over t-t-t ... t-to say thank you!” She stood up, faced the two wolves, stomped her foot once, and folded her arms across her chest while she gave both men the harshest glare she could muster. It only seemed to make them smile more though, which made her frown more, which lead to a downward spiral she did not like.

“We were hoping you would.” Art reached out for her, and his fingers found where her shirt was tucked into her pants. She slapped his fingers away, and Arturo’s grin only grew. “But, we were really hoping you’d come over to just hang with us, not just say thank you, or that you’re sorry about Stephanie.”

“I w-was hanging!”

“And I hope you’ll stick around, hang out more. A lot more. With less clothes.”

The bastard! The slimy, conniving, manipulative, rude son of a bitch. He ... he ... wanted her naked. And he was so brazen about it. Rude and direct and ... and looking at her like she was a piece of meat. Or at least, she wanted to think of him like that, like he was some lecherous bastard she could justify stabbing. But the man had saved her life, let her drink his blood before, protected her from the Azlu, all the things that should make her want to swoon like a damsel in distress being rescued.

She most definitely did not feel like she was being rescued. Felt like she was a lamb before the wolves.

“D-Don’t think ... just because you ... helped me that I ... that I would...”

“What? No no, it’s not like that,” Matt said, hands up in surrender. “We like you. You’re smart, you’re clever, and you’re so damn cute.”

“You t-too? Do I ... d-d-do I look like a ... like a...” Like a whore, or slut, or some other stupid word that really meant nothing to any Kindred. “I’m not cute!”

“Could have fooled us.” Art got up, and started walking toward her. “We think you’re damn cute, and sexy. We’ve been wanting to do things to you for a while.”

She backed up, eyes going wide and staring up at the tall beast, and the hunger in his dark eyes. They ... they had?

“You ... you’re ... ummm.” Her back pressed to the wall beside the TV, and her hands did as well. Trapped, completely trapped. She looked past Art to Matt, but the big dumb puppy only smiled back at her, the same hunger in his gaze. He gave her a tiny wave too, like this was all fun times.

“I like that you squirm.” Art leaned down as he approached her, and he licked his lips in a very I’m-going-to-eat-you sort of way.

“I ... I um...”

“I like that you still act shy around us, despite the shit we’ve been through. I like that you’re smart, and clever when you start to feel comfortable. And I think you’re really sexy.” He got in closer, close enough she could feel his body heat as he leaned down to grin at her, penetrating gaze only an inch from her eyes. “And I’m really hoping you squirm the same way when I’m inside you.”

Find a knife, a sword, a pen, anything. Stab him!

“You two ... can’t b-b-be serious. There’s ... t-two of you!”

“So?” Matt said, shrugging. “Art and I have been friends forever, and we share everything. And sometimes we find a girl who enjoys two men. Though Art can come on a bit strong. Dumbass.”

Art just shrugged when he looked behind him at his friend before bringing his mischievous eyes back to her.

For a second, she wanted to accuse them of being playboys, sleeping around with any woman they found. She knew it wasn’t true though, she was just looking for excuses to get out of the situation. Just like with Jessy and her ghouls.

But these weren’t ghouls. And Jessy wasn’t here either. Completely different situation.

Completely.

“You uh ... you t-two ... do this often?”

“No,” Art said, “gotta like the girl first. And she has to like us. Avery and the pack have been roaming for a while, but I’m hoping we can stay here. Dolareido’s a great place. And we can get to know the little vamp with some bite to her. We really like her.”

Hehe, bite. No, don’t laugh at his puns!

“You like me?”

“Haven’t I been saying that all night?” Art reached down, and took her hand. She didn’t pull it away, and instead bit her lip a little as she felt the heat of his body warm her corpse fingers. After pulling her back to the couch, he sat down and grinned his evil grin. Bastard was so damn tall, he was eye level with her despite him sitting, her standing. Let alone Matt, who was a good five or six inches taller than Art, and probably eighty pounds of pure muscle heavier.

And they both wanted her. Both were looking at her like prey to be ravaged, but the more they kept talking, the less she minded.

“This ... this isn’t ... and ... I ... I um...”

Matt reached out, and took her other hand. Hers disappeared into his palm, like a little girl’s. She was older than either of them, but ... but they were so much bigger than her. Trapped, trapped trapped, standing in front of the couch with the two wolves sitting down on it before her, her hands in theirs.

“If you say you want to go, we’ll let you go. This isn’t like that time we captured you.” Art’s eyes were only on her face half the time now, half the time running up and down her body. “You’re not our prisoner. You have to say stop though. That’s your safe word.”

“B-B-But ... you’re...”

Her hands were trapped, one for each of them, while they each had a hand free. And they used them, Art setting his free hand on her outer thigh, while Matt put his hand on her hip.

“And we can stop anytime you want us to,” Matt said, winking at her. His drifting hand slid to the front of her pants, and found the button of her fly. “But, I’m really hoping you don’t want us to. Cause damn, I really want to eat you.”

All she had to do was say stop. Good, easy! Easily done. All she had to do was tell them to stop, and the two handsome, gorgeous creatures trying to seduce her would stop. Yeap. Just say stop.

She looked down at Matt’s hand on her fly. With one hand he managed to slip the button out of the hole, while Arturo had his fingers in the waistband. She made another tug on her hands, harder, but still she couldn’t get away. Harder again, still nothing. The werewolves refused to let go of her fingers, and they kept smiling at her as they started to slide off her pants. Matt’s grin had all the sinister intent of a puppy, but Art’s grin was as villainous as ever.

“I ... you ... p-please don’t? You’re...”

“Just say stop and we’ll stop,” Matt said.

Saying it wasn’t easy apparently; it was hard! And the harder she tried, the more she struggled to get the word out.

The villain of the duo chuckled, licked his lips a little — so damn sexy it hurt — and slid her pants down to her knees. “Or,” he said, “you can ... think it’s called blush?”

“W-Who ... told you ... about that?” Pants, around knees! They could see her underwear!

“Friend of yours.”

“ ... Jessy!” Oh, that bitch. “She said ... you t-t-talked with her.”

“We did. Earlier tonight.” Art continued to pull her pants down, and she tried to pull away all the more. Like trying to move buildings. They weren’t that heavy, not for a vampire, but she couldn’t move them at all. Her strength was gone. “She said you might need a little push.”

They planned this. They planned it and Jessy helped them. Her so called friend was going to get a mouthful when she found her.

Reality yanked her back when she found pants around her ankles, and the two werewolves working together to lift a foot out of one pant leg, and then the other. Now all she had on was socks and her shirt, and her boring pair of white underwear. But her underwear didn’t seem to bother either wolf, who stared at her and her legs, and roamed over the smooth skin with their huge hands.

They really wanted her. Two werewolves, massive beasts, dripping of life and heat and hunger, they wanted her. This was nothing like with Jessy’s ghouls, who wanted her like ... like an aroused man wanted what he was attracted to. Which, she admitted to only herself, she’d loved. But Art and Matt were ... they weren’t humans, or vampires, they were wolves, and as their fingers roamed her small legs, leaving her wriggling, squirming, and trapped, their eyes devoured her like ... like prey.

“You ... wait ... p-please, I...”

“Not hearing the safe word,” Art said. His hand around her wrist pulled her toward him, until her legs were touching his and Matt’s. Matt’s free hand danced up to her shirt, and started undoing the buttons from the bottom, while Art’s other hand reached behind her. His fingers cupped her ass, squeezed it through her underwear, caressed along the small of her back and tail bone, before sliding under the waistband.

Stop. All she had to do was say stop.

She pulled away again, futilely. The wolves weren’t letting her go, and they weren’t stopping. Their hands roamed her body, touched and massaged her thighs and ass, tickled along her ever exposing skin as Matt undid more of her buttons, and played with the edges of her clothes. Art’s fingers slid her underwear down a little, and she almost squeaked. But he stopped once they were only a couple inches down, and he grinned his smug bastard grin at her before his fingers reached higher, and slid her shirt off her shoulders with Matt’s help. Whenever they needed to, they switched hands off on hers without ever letting her go. All her pulling and tugging and wriggling did nothing to stop them as the two beasts undressed her.

She stood there, wearing nothing but her white underwear and simple little t-shirt bra, pouting her best ‘please stop’ pout. It only spurned them on.

“God damn you are beautiful,” Matt said, eyes stuck to her flat, toned stomach, her tiny breasts still hidden, her pale Kindred skin.

“It isn’t 1920 Matt. She’s sexy, and hot, those are the words you’re looking for.”

“I can’t say she’s beautiful?”

“Not if you’re trying to keep the mood.”

Matt just rolled his eyes, and pulled her in a little closer. She couldn’t get much closer than legs touching theirs, so she leaned forward a little, held upright by the grip they kept on her hands.

“Blush for me, please?”

Oh ... oh god damn it. His eyes, big green puppy eyes. There was hunger there, ravenous, sexual hunger, but on top of it all he wore blatant sincerity that was too damn adorable. And handsome. She wanted to run her fingers through his long, dark blond, almost brown hair, touch the scruff of his face, kiss his lips.

And Art, Art she wanted to punch. After. For now, she stared at him, at the voracious need written on his face, his dark brown eyes, smooth face and hard jaw, his messy shoulder-length black hair, his ... his everything.

If she said stop, they’d stop. She could leave, and go home. Maybe call Jessy, berate her, and then maybe have some fun with her ghouls. Or she could blush for the two beasts holding her hands, undressing her, touching her, and they’d ravage her. From the look in their eyes, she couldn’t help but imagine them pinning her down, prying her open, forcing things into her, devouring her.

She bit her lip a little with one of her fangs. Didn’t mean to, it just happened as she deliberated like a kid in a candy store, but it made both the wolves groan with blatant arousal, and then growl. A real, deep, quiet growl in the throat and chest that she felt through where they trapped her hands.

She blushed.

“ ... that is sexy,” Matt said, eyes looking her up and down.

Even when blushing, she still had pale skin, but it wasn’t her skin tone the two beasts were staring at. It was her breasts, and her nipples stabbing out against her soft bra. It was her flat stomach, and how the blush brought some life to her subtle abs and hips. It was her underwear, and how, only moments into the blush, a droplet of moisture was starting to form. Oh god.

She blushed a normal, human blush then, and her body went red. Head to toe, she felt the burn of red, and her cheeks wanted to explode.

“I think she likes it.” Art leaned in toward her, still sitting so he had to crane his neck a bit to point his lips up at her, but they found her collar, her neck, her chin, and he put gentle, warm kisses along her naked skin, each accompanied with an electric tingle.

“I ... I um ... this ... this isn’t f-f-fair.”

“It really isn’t,” Art said, kiss slipping down to her collar, and then her sternum. “Been wanting to get inside you since the first time we met. Fucking killing me.”

Before she could respond, Matt’s free hand took the waistband of her underwear, and slid them down to her knees. She meeped and renewed her struggles to cover herself, but they didn’t let her. There was a tiny strand of wetness connecting her sex to her underwear until it finally reached her knees. Once the white fabric was around her ankles, they again lifted her feet and forced her to step out of her clothes, like she’d become their doll.

“God damn,” Matt said, eyes glued to her thighs, jaw dropped slightly. “That is the sweetest little thing I have ever seen.”

“I am not a p-p-p-piece of meat!” More struggles, more futility. The two of them were staring at her sex, at her smooth mons, her puffy little vulva and hidden lips. Wet, and her clitoris was swollen enough to stick out slightly. Staring, and staring, until she was bursting with embarrassment and blushing to death. But they wouldn’t let go of her hands, wouldn’t let her cover herself, wouldn’t let her escape.

“And yet, I really want to eat you.” Art’s free hand hooked the front of her bra, and pulled it up over her head. Part of her wanted to be obstinate, and not lift her arms. But it was too late to be so petty now, and once the two wolves let go of her hands, she lifted her arms so Art could lift the thing clear off of her.

Naked. Absolutely naked. She was so small compared to them, and naked, and naked, and naked some more. She covered her breasts and privates with her arms, finally having them free, but she remembered what it was like with the ghouls, and how silly it’d been. So, with a deep, useless breath, she lowered her arms, and tried to stand there with some pride. Or defiance, not sure which.

Matt leaned in, and growled. She squeaked and blinked at the gentle giant, but the man’s eyes were half closed and not looking at her, they were looking at her breasts. Art did the same, pulling her in closer as he leaned in from his seat. Matt was leaning down lower, and she could feel his hot breath on her nipple. Art was higher, his grinning lips only inches from hers, his eyes on hers. He took her hand again, and set it on his shoulder.

“Eat m-me?” she said, and she squeezed his shoulder a little. Didn’t mean to, didn’t try to, it just happened. He was so warm, and hard, and broad.

He came closer, closer until his lips were touching hers. Not kissing, not yet, but god damn she wanted to. His eyes, his damn, beautiful dark eyes, the heat of him so close to her, and much as she told herself not to, she breathed in his scent.

“I—” She squeaked again, loudly, and looked down at Matt. The giant had put his lips around her nipple, and was kissing it with the most tender, warm, wet lips. More sparks along her skin, tingly, electric. Her whole body started to shiver, and she squirmed as she tried to take a step back. Matt had one hand holding her thigh, the other holding her butt, and he refused to let her back away as he lowered his kiss to the underside of her small breast, and planted warm little kisses.

For a second she was going to say something, maybe ‘stop’, but when she opened her mouth, Art’s lips found hers. Time froze. Life and warmth on her face, on her lips, so close to her he ... he was kissing her. You couldn’t get much closer than kissing. He was kissing her, and nudging his nose into her a bit like a playful dog; his kiss was most definitely not dog-like though. His kiss was tender, and he plucked at her bottom lip after a few moments of her standing there like a statue.

“You’re smooth,” he said.

She gasped and looked down. Art’s fingers had found her mons, and were caressing where her pubic hair should have been. The soft mound of skin molded to his exploring fingers, his digits tracing invisible symbols.

“I ... I ... shaved it a long t-time ago, and ... chose to not regrow it.”

“You can do that?”

“Mhmm. It—nn!” The bastard’s fingers slid further down, and found her budding clitoris. She squealed, mewled, whimpered, and every sound she didn’t want to come out of her came out when she looked down, and found the large man’s hands caressing her folds. He didn’t stroke her clit directly, only nudged against it, teased it as he massaged her labia, wet his fingers with her juices.

Art’s head drifted lower, and Matt’s head drifted higher. Natasha wriggled some more, but at this point she was having trouble focusing, on trying to remember who she was or what her original plan had been. All she could think about was a set of fingers massaging the tiny lips between her thighs, sending warm sparks through her body. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and her breath came out in tiny pants, pants Matt smiled into as his lips plucked at hers. She blinked at him, sucked into the hungry gaze, and let out a tiny whining sound as Art’s mouth found her other nipple.