Strife & Valor: Book II of The Rorke Burningsoul Saga Regina Watts (e book reader online .TXT) 📖

slowly over my length, teasing back and forth but not yet taking me into her. Occasionally her hand would lower to press my head just to her quivering entrance, and she would pump me against herself before reaching down to tickle my testicles.

Together we marveled at the sight of Odile’s dark fingers working steadily in and out of pale pink Branwen, each of us more inspired by the second. When those fingers were removed and Indra bent down to her apply her mouth to the task, Valeria at last lowered herself upon my aching cock.

While my fingers sank into her thighs we moaned as one, the pleasure that rushed through the both of us no doubt equal in its sublimity. As much as it relieved me to find her soft body so tight and wet around me, it paradoxically served, as always, to deepen the ache. One hand lifting from her thigh to again press Branwen’s dainty toes to my mouth, I watched how this sweetened the high elf’s pleasure and couldn’t help but count her lucky. With Indra’s tender kisses between her legs, Odile suckling at her nipples and caressing her breasts, and my mouth at work upon her foot while the woman who rode me moaned in approval, Branwen was no doubt in a state of ecstasy.

Indeed, she thrashed wildly—but, for as enraptured as she was, she never looked away from the sight of Valeria writhing upon my prick, her dark body working up and down and her magnificent breasts bouncing with every self-impalement along my length. So far as I could tell, Branwen’s eyes themselves were an outlet of pleasure equal to, or perhaps exceeding, all the others. The longer she took in the sight of me fucking another woman, the greater her pleasure grew until it overflowed from her with a cataclysmic cry of bliss.

Odile playfully hushed her, saying, “Remember Lively next door now, friend…”

“Oh,” gasped Branwen, the sight of whose orgasm had inspired Valeria’s sudden clamping and shuddering around me, “oh—yes, of course, I’m sorry—”

“Never apologize for pleasure,” moaned Valeria, her own climax washing over her in a series of waves that left her nearly stuttering. “Ah! Oh, Burningsoul, you are hard tonight…”

“I had to go to a brothel to find Grimalkin today…you wouldn’t believe the ladies that were there.”

“And yet you saved all that rich, hot seed of yours for us…all the pleasures of this cock. What a good man you are, Rorke.” Laughing, Valeria pushed her streams of white hair back over her shoulder and dismounted me with a shudder, a strand of her liquid pleasure connecting us until it broke. “Go on…put it to use on pretty Branwen.”

As if snapped from a trance by her orgasm, Branwen began to sit up while saying, “Oh! No—that’s all right, I really should go get some food for the trip—”

Odile pushed Branwen back down, face contorted in a wicked grin. While Branwen gasped and gazed upon her with a crimson face, she tried to gently extricate herself from the dark elf’s grasp. She was quickly unsuccessful, as, given her strength, Odile had no trouble wrangling the high elf’s hand and pinning it by the forearm beneath one thick leg. Even slender Indra had no trouble subduing Branwen’s other arm, however, or holding wide her legs to display her sex for my hungry eye.

“Don’t be shy, Branwen,” encouraged Odile. “You’ve watched him fuck all of us…but only Valeria’s gotten to see you get fucked by him.”

“You told them about that!” Blushing furiously, Branwen bit her lip and whined, squirmed, keened with pleasure just to have her free leg touched by Valeria’s hand. The Materna, chuckling, finding only desire in Branwen’s eyes amid her faux protests, drew wide this other leg and teased the flesh of Branwen’s pretty thigh.

“There are those, Branwen, for whom inhibitions are so powerful that their most heartfelt desire is to have their barriers broken down as if against their will. I know how it must excite you to think of me sharing stories about your body…just as it excites you to be offered for Rorke’s use. Go on, Burningsoul.”

I must admit: with the three durrow holding her down and keeping her spread-eagle in offering to me, Branwen looked more erotic, more gorgeous, and more aroused than I’d ever seen her. A few locks of blonde hair fell across her blushing cheek, her lower lip hidden behind her topmost row of teeth as she gazed into my face. While I sat up, Valeria’s free hand gently spread Branwen’s labia to display her.

“Come, Paladin…fill this pretty little high elf with cum for us.”

Such a suggestion would have been impossible to resist even if I’d wanted to do such a thing, rest assured! Finding Branwen’s face shone with anticipation and hope, I knelt before the offered altar of Anroa’s passion. Weltyr’s gift to the world—that rose whose loveliness possessed the capacity to make me overlook, from the heights of passion, any flaw or wickedness in any woman, so long as her body was beautiful, and her embrace, eager.

And Branwen certainly possessed both those qualities. With the durrow kissed and caressed us, still with Branwen’s limbs held apart, I buried myself inside of her and felt her body flood from the first penetration. She moaned, obviously humiliated to be so excited by this exhibitionism, and lowered her eyes from me. Odile, who was an expert in the use of cruelty to sweeten pleasure, caught the high elf by the hair and forced her head back to ensure that her eyes had nowhere to rest but upon us.

We fought well as a team; it was only fitting that we should love well as a team. While Branwen squirmed beneath us, the durrow and I pleasured her from stem to stern. I plowed deeper into her tight embrace by the thrust; and while her eyelids fluttered to feel my flesh slap against hers with each complete penetration, the durrow kissed her, me, one another, all the time cajoling