At first, just the sound, that velvet, hypnotizing voice Ice had, added to the ferocity of Soleil’s need. Her body was on fire and she was frantic for him to put it out. Her head tossed back and forth, her body undulated, hips thrusting toward the cock he was stroking just out of her reach. He looked so sexy, his eyes half-closed, gaze locked on her with laser focus. She was so close and knew if he just touched her anywhere, she would explode.
He didn’t. He kept murmuring something to her, and the roaring in her ears didn’t let the words penetrate at first. She didn’t care. She just wanted. Yes, she would do anything he asked of her. Anything at all. She wanted the men to look at her, to see what a sexual being she was. She liked knowing she was making them hot. She liked knowing Ice was watching out for her, putting her on display for his own pleasure.
“Crawl to him, baby. Slide down and crawl to him on your hands and knees. Beg him to fuck you. Tell him how much you need that dick. How big it is. How perfect. You want all of them. Ask for it. Be polite. You know you need it.”
The hand on his cock fisted tighter. Soleil could see him swelling. He was as close as she was, but . . . Her breath left her lungs and abruptly her vision cleared. He wasn’t with her. He was somewhere else, far away, locked into something that didn’t include her. She tried to hear him, to remember the things he’d said.
Not crawl to him. Not beg him. What was he repeating so gently in that velvety mesmerizing voice? Her stomach lurched. She slowly pulled her leg from the back of the seat and sat up. Immediately the glass plug moved, sending a wave of heat through her. She grasped the flared end and removed it. Watching Ice, she stuffed the thing in the ziplock bag. His head was still thrown back, his hand working his cock.
It was all she could do not to lean forward and take him in her mouth, but she wasn’t going to let the erotic sight throw her back into whatever scene he had created and then got lost in. She knew about childhood trauma. She’d gone to enough psychologists to pack a room. She reached for her jeans and drew them on slowly, trying to think what to do.
“That’s right, honey. I know you’re scared. It’s all right. I’m here with you.”
He suddenly looked directly at Soleil, staring into her eyes with his beautiful blue ones. There was so much pain there she couldn’t stand it. His hand curled around the back of her head and slowly began to force her face toward his cock.
“It’s all right. You want him to fuck your little pussy. You need it. You’re on fire. Let him in. Let the other one have your ass.” He stroked the top of her head as if soothing her. “You can suck my cock if you need to. I’ll always let you. It will distract you.” He rubbed the head of his cock around her lips, back and forth. “We talked about this. The others are watching you. Seeing you. You’re so beautiful to them. They need you.”
He exerted so much strength, Soleil had no choice but to open her mouth and let him push her onto his cock. He began to wipe her face with his thumb, over and over. “Don’t cry. It only hurts for a few minutes and then you’ll feel so good. I’ll make it good for you.”
She couldn’t take her eyes from his face. It was twisted with pain. With sorrow. Even with self-loathing. She found herself wanting to soothe him. She didn’t take control, because he was already moving in her mouth, surging deep and then much more gently, alternating the strokes with various rhythms.
“See, so much better. Suck, honey. Don’t cry. You have to stop crying. Feel that now? So much better. He’s so happy, you should see his face. Look at the others watching.”
When he said that, to look at the others, his cock swelled, pushing at the soft tissue of her mouth, growing heavier and hotter on her tongue. She realized he did need that sometimes. Someone had conditioned him to need it. He didn’t recognize himself as a victim; he saw himself as the criminal. She wanted it over. She wanted to bring him out from the place he was in. She put effort in getting him off, unable to think of any other way to end the flashback.
It wasn’t that hard. He was so close. Then his hands were fisting on either side of her head and he nearly jerked her off of him. His blue eyes moved over her face and, if it was possible, he went gray under his tan. She sat back on her heels and reached for her tank, pulling it over her head, ignoring the bra. She never took her eyes from his face.