Bestow of Three Henchmen - x Male Reader

Chapter 9: Second Night (4)

In the fright, you tried to break loose, but you should have known better not to. Therefore, detained you were in the spot once more, by their arms and hands encaging you narrow, and still with both of your ends remain impaled by their ceased cock. Unruly hair and sticky skin from assorted layers of liquid all over the body. That was how you are displayed when Gavin Reed's figure entered your field of vision from the corner of your eyes, with a large wooden tray in his hands full of food and (presumably) bottles of potions.

"Hgghhhh!!!" Horror simmered in your enlarged eyes. Muscles tensed up entirely, and could only do that.

The triplets, on the other hand, didn't give the least damn at the presence of the horse master. Their eyes solely set upon you while they once again recommenced their maneuver inside your holes, forcing you to feel both pleasure and ignominy simultaneously, pushing your muffled moan out while you shut your lids tight and bounced cruelly over Sylvester's hips.

"Put the tray over the table there, Gavin," ordered Nicholas casually; his hands and his crimson eyes were transfixed at your face, watching his length appearing and disappearing fast continuously past your lips.

"Yes, Master."

Amid the delightful inconvenience compelled upon you, still, you picked up the peculiar response. It was unquestionably Gavin's voice, but, at the same time, not exactly. It was remarkably off—devoid of any inflection when he spoke.

Peeking under the thin gap of your lids, you tried to find his figure, but he was beyond your current limited sight (obviously due to Nicholas' solid hold upon your head).

You heard his footfalls crossing the room, before then the sound of the tray was put on a hard surface.

"Now, come over here, Gavin," apathetically Nicholas beckoned with his chin an empty space next to the bed, where any soul would surely be able to witness closely the whole scenery of you being devoured by the three of your very knights.

"Yes, Master."

You puffed spasmodically. But Andersons' deep and rough onslaught in your mouth and in your arse left you no opportunity to even shape further intelligible thoughts. There was no alternative but to let their undertaking cradle you away in the wave of shamefully sensuous delight.

Teary, sweaty, sticky, red as a beet...

"Take a good look at us," Nicholas commanded coolly—undoubtedly, still without diverting his attention off you—when the horse master finally stood where he had been besought.

Beneath you, much to your disenchantment, Connor and Sylvester gradually decelerated, stealing you much of the friction you need to drift in the stream of pleasure. And due to that, your consciousness of the external world sharpened.

Your watery eyes fluttered to a figure as of an empty shell. Was he really the man you had slept with yesterday? He reminded you of the undead, but the healthy version of it that could talk clearly.

Behind the thin layer of hot tears, you watched Gavin roving with the vacant stare of his, and did not even blink when his eyes traversed your whole frame.

"I did, Master," he stated as he stopped last at Nicholas' face.

But the pale man still was occupied enjoying your abused slicked mouth. "Good," nonetheless he eventually replied. "Memorize this picture well, Gavin."

"I will, Master."

Nicholas sighed into the air when you unintentionally shifted your tongue under his veiny shaft. "And," he continued as he set his eyes back on you, "I just feel the need to affirm it clearly. In the past, whenever I shoved my cock deep in your mouth, Gavin, it was the crown prince's mouth I had fantasized about. Like this."