Villains & Beasts

8. Outrank

Chapter 8: Outrank.

“P- please...” the human withers and whines in London's arms, looking at the dark warlock who interrupted his fun. Looking at Arrow kneeling before Malcolm, taking his immense member like a crazed animal did nothing to calm his hunger. The hand around his throat is holding him down but his head is floating to another space.

“Aww, would you look at that, brother! He can barely take you!” Victor is still petting the struggling vampire, taking pride in the way his older brother is throwing his head back and grunting like a touch starved maniac.

“Heavenly,” Malcolm grunts, eyes rolling back after drinking in Arrow's dishelved state. He's obviously drunk on Milo's lust from minutes ago, which explains the way his throat accommodates the much larger member graciously; the tear bruised red cheeks, the hazy eyes, the drool and precum running down his chin and around the puffy lips... All but accessories to the willing vampire's possessed mind.

The throat fucking isn't gentle or passionate, it's rough, practical, pleasurable. Sloppy sounds replace Milo's previous whines and all the eyes are on Arrow's glistening face as he takes a good beating down his mouth, he doesn't take it passively, however, he manages to somehow impress the warlock by leaning in whenever he takes his cock out to shove it back again, his great deal of pain and lack of oxygen not preventing him from aching for more.

London on the other hand is the more collected of the bunched, his palm find its way to Milo's member, milking it gently; an act that the needy human deems as torture. His eyes don't leave his cock sucking husband as he kisses Milo's throat and grinds his rock hard cock against his exposed ass, relieving the memory of being inside of his personal heaven.

“Why don't you join them Victor?” London suggests at the husband who decided to take a seat in the corner of the room, calmly observing the scene and drinking the sensual game they're all playing. London knew what he was doing, the little fucker has the biggest voyeurism kink and actually gets off on delayed gratification but by the looks of it, he's about to finish in his trousers.

“I'm good,” his strained voices echoes through the ball slapping sounds and the gagging that invaded the room.

“You sure? I thought you were all about sharing!” Malcolm doesn't even know how he managed to form a coherent sentence from the way the little slut at his feet was making him feel. He already knew that he wouldn't stop at a throat fuck but if he gets to share him with his brother, it'd make it even more special.

“I'm good.” Victor grunts through his teeth, eyes fixated on Arrow's tearful face.

Malcolm and London exchange a look and somehow, someway, the dark fae knows what to do. Standing up to his legs with a human mess in his arms, he strides to his husband and smirks knowingly; ignoring Milo's protests to the loss of the pleasuring grip.

“Why don't you hold him for me in that case?” dropping Milo in his husband's lap like he weighed nothing, he winks at both of them and starts undoing his own dress pants.

“Stop manhandling me,” sexually frustrated Milo bites back, melting against Victor's arms before he remembers how mad he is at him and tries to wiggle out of his hold.

“Where to, pet?” Victor is stern in his tone as he shares an understanding look with his husband. London wants him to hold him in his lap while he fucks him, an offer he can't pass on.

“Losing your touch, sir?” London's question is dripping with sarcasm as he pulls his pants down his long, muscular legs, making both his husband's and Milo's mouths water at the lean build and the impressive bulge betraying his arousal. A slight wetness where the head is tucked exposed the leaking precum on him.